Page 100 of Fault Line

We sit on the edge of my bed, our thighs brushing against one another. He leans in slowly, his gaze flickering around my face, and I catch my breath as our lips meet in a soft, tender kiss.

When we pull away, our foreheads touch, and an unstoppable smile spreads across my face. Holden twirls a strand of my hair between his fingers, his hand gently smoothing across the top of my head.

“You know,” I say, “if you were expecting me to be one of those girls who tell you not to spend your money on them, then it’s not gonna happen.”

“Wasn’t expecting anything like that,” he says with a sly grin. “I know you better by now.”

“Good. Because I like gifts, and you can afford it.”

“That I can, Karras.”

He stands and walks over to the window, reaching for the curtains to draw them open. Panicking, I rush over and place my body in front of him like a human shield, my hands covering his as they grip the fabric.

He glances down at me, confusion etched into his brow. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” I rush out, my hastiness breeding suspicion.

“Are you secretly a little vampire, just hiding away from the light?”

“No, it’s not that.” I stiffen, trying to brush off his teasing. “I just think it’s better in the dark.”

“Now, that’s a bald-faced lie if I ever heard one.”

“Fine.” I sigh, reluctantly stepping aside. “You can open them if you must.”

As he pulls the curtains back, my poor, little orchid comes fully into view, its petals wilting and dying away. I feel a blush creep up my neck, embarrassed by its sad state.

“I, uh, accidentally overwatered it,” I admit, misery seeping through my tone.

“It’s alright, baby.” He runs his fingers across the wilted petals, snapping off a dead stem. “It’s just a plant.”

“No, but it’s a symbolic plant,” I insist.

“Symbolic of what?”

“Er, it’s the first and only time someone’s ever given me a flower, and I really wanted to keep it alive as long as possible.”

He chuckles with a little shake of his head, his dimples making an appearance as he pulls me closer. “You’re thinking too much into it, Kaia. I’ll get you another orchid. I’ll get you fifty orchids, or tulips, or daisies, or whatever fucking flowers you want.”

“Shut up,” I say, laughter bubbling up in my chest as I swat at his arm. “I know I’m being dramatic, but I felt like it was important.”

“I’m being serious,” he insists. “We’ve just made it clear that you like gifts, and I like giving them. So you better expect me to give you so many fucking flowers that you’re gonna be drowning in them.”

He grins down at me, his dark eyes full of affection, and I wrap my arms around his waist, walking us backward until I’m able to push him onto my bed.

“You always know how to sweet-talk me,” I tease, settling myself on top of him.

“It’s my new favorite thing.”

He winks at me, his hands gently resting on my waist, thumbs tracing small circles against my skin. Slowly, his hands glide over the curve of my hips, fingertips teasing their way across my body until they reach my ass. With a playful smile, he gives me a firm squeeze, making me squirm against him.

His touch is both delicate and playful, tender and teasing, a perfect reflection of our newfound dynamic.

“So, have you decided what you want to do for this competition of ours?” I ask, my curiosity piqued, eager to know his plans.

“Yeah, I have.” He nudges my cheek with the bridge of his nose. “But I’m gonna take you back to Bluewater Cape this weekend, and I’ll tell you then.”

“Wow, I think the anticipation might kill me.”

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