Page 64 of Touch

Love’s libido boost means he’ll be like this for a good five seconds. If she wants to stop him before then, without causing physical harm, there’s only one way. With a growl, she whips out an arrow—one that will dilute his lust even faster—and aims.

Too late. Holly shoves him back, throwing his bulk off the bed. Hollering in pain, he hits the floor with a seismic thud, his knees still wrapped in medical braces from the park battle.

“What the fuck,” he snarls, stumbling to his feet. “What’s wrong?”

“Wrong?” she yells. “Are you kidding me? You’ve never been like that!”

“Like what? We were kissing.”

“You werenotin the mood for kissing.”

“Jesus, Holly. You’re acting like we haven’t fucked plenty of times before.”

“And you’re acting like I’m a guarantee!”

“I’ve never thought that about you!”

Love’s head darts between them.It’s my fault. I compelled him.

Exasperated, Holly stabs her fingers through her mussed hair. “You should go.”

Griffin’s face falls. “In other words, I’m a monster, and we’re not talking this through.”

When she makes no reply, he nods and slips through the door. Beyond the window, Holly and Love watch his car pull out of the driveway, bright lights vanishing into the night. With a sob, the female slumps onto the bed, tears leaking down her face.

Love steps toward Holly, thinking to comfort her. Then she halts, remembering why that’s impossible.

With the correct arrow, she could have obliterated Griffin and Holly’s feelings for each other long ago, making things easier instead of maneuvering around those feelings. That’s often the solution when handling love triangles. This whole time, Love had forgotten to consider that.

Yet that would have been just as cruel.

Guilt stabs through her. For what she’s done, she is a beast.

Once Holly gets her crying under control, she wipes away the mascara cobwebbing down her face, and the muffled music lures her back to the guests. People give her discrete looks. They must have heard the shouting upstairs and witnessed Griffin leave. A pair of women coo over Holly while other females roll their eyes and mutter to one another from their respective corners.

Holly feigns a headache and retreats to the back of the house while Love shadows her. No one warns the hostess that Andrew’s outside. Love and Holly pause at the screen door and watch him on the porch bench. He’s hunched over in thought, anotebook abandoned beside him and his hair blending in with the frosted landscape.

A sad but comforted grin lifts Holly’s mouth, which Love can relate to. It’s how she feels whenever she sees this man. She wants to go to him, but it’s not her place. After Holly shuffles through the door, Love cranes her head to get a decent view through the partition.

“Hey,” Holly says.

Andrew glances at her in surprise, as though suddenly remembering where he is. “I can leave if you want the bench—”

“No, it’s okay,” she says when he moves to get up. “Griffin’s not here anyway. I mean, not that that’s why you’d… you know.”

She settles beside him, the bench croaking beneath her. Love’s hand chokes the doorknob when Holly’s leg brushes Andrew’s, both humans pretending to study the sky.

Actually, Holly pretends. Andrew openly scrutinizes The Stars, which poke holes into the darkness, as if he doesn’t trust them to stay up there.

“You came,” she muses.

“I was curious,” he answers, still fixating on the celestials.

After a pause, Holly draws in a shaky breath. “Griffin’s a good guy once you get to know him.”

More silence. Lost silence.

“About five years ago, I had appendicitis,” Holly blurts out. “I was in college, and we became best friends. Griffin stayed in the hospital all night, bought my family coffee and takeout, played with my little brothers so my parents could get a break. He went to my place, packed extra clothes and my favorite books, and got me a dozen of these vanilla marshmallows.” A weak chuckle escapes her. “He has no idea I hate marshmallows. I once pretended to like them, just as a joke. But Griffin took itseriously, and now he buys them for me all the time. It makes him happy to think I’m happy.

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