Page 91 of Love Me Boldly

“Exactly. Sophie kept it because it was funny. That’s all it was. Nothing more than kids joking, and I might have asked her to be my girlfriend that day or something. I don’t remember. Piper was just starting shit that day on campus. To be honest, that’s it. Piper was hurting. She had a crap family, lost her best friend, lostmymom who was a second mom to her, and she didn’t want to lose me. I think after Sophie died, she thought she andIcould have something, you know? I’d made it clear that wouldn’t happen, but…” He shoved his hands through his hair and groaned. “It sounds ridiculous and childish.”

“It’s not.” I uncurled my legs from the chair, losing the need to be in such a self-defensive mode. “Don’t you think I get that? That after my mom left and my dad turned into one of the top two town drunks and I hadno onebut Caroline, that I wouldn’t have givenanythingto have someone close to me? I would have fought to keep that, too, with everything I had.”

He took a sip of his wine and sighed. “I know, Holly. That was why I wanted the chance to explain everything that night. Iknewyou’d understand.”

And I hadn’t given him the chance. Hadn’t tried. I still wasn’t sure it would have done much good, but I at least could have taken the time to listen. I’d left him thinking that he and Sophie were engaged, even when I told him it didn’t matter. I’d left him thinking that maybe had I listened, it would have. I cared about him a lot. I’d started imagining things with him I couldn’t have ever thought I’d dream of, and I’d been so callous toward him.

The doorbell buzzed, a high-pitched ping sliced through the air making both of us jerk our heads toward the front door.

“Saved by the bell,” Graham teased, but there was a coldness to his voice as he got up and answered the door.

So, apparently, he was still ticked about that night.

TWENTY-NINE

GRAHAM

There was so much else to get through, but a weight lifted at finally being heard. Granted, I’m not sure it would have changed anything back then, but there were things I’d needed to say and had spent weeks trying to be heard.

It felt good to finally have Holly sit and listen to me, to understand what had happened. I would never see Sophie again. I’d probably never see Piper again. What I hadn’t gotten the chance to tell Holly was that after that day, about a week later, when Piper came over to try to console me, she’d not only done it so poorly, she’d thrown herself at me.

It had taken a split second of her lips on mine for me to shove her away and toss her out.

The last time I spoke to her was at our graduation parties, and that was only because her parents and my dad threw ours together. I’d avoided her then and had told her after that party to never speak to me again.

I’d held good on that promise.

I made my way to the door, the tip of my tongue burning to say more. To tell her everything I knew. To tell her about Eli and to tell her about my conversations with my dad. But it could wait.

At least through dinner. Holly already looked like she’d been smacked in the face, but I couldn’t bring myself to apologize for the way I spoke either.

Telling her felt good, but reliving it also brought up old pain and anger.

I answered the door, grabbed the pizza, and thanked the delivery driver. When I turned, Holly was in the kitchen, taking plates out of the upper cupboard.

“Thank you,” I said, and slid the two medium pizzas along with an order of garlic knots onto the counter.

“Thank you,” she said. Her smile was soft, her eyes sad. I had a feeling that thank you meant a lot more than the pizza.

With a nod, I let her know I understood.

“Can we drop the heavy stuff for dinner?” she asked.

A dinner where I could simply enjoy my time with Holly after six years? A dinner where we didn’t keep reliving everything that went wrong, and I could tease her, laugh as she sassed me back, and I got to see her smile?

There was no other answer except, “Absolutely.”

She shook her head with her lips pressed together like she was fighting that smile I liked so much and flipped open a box. She instantly closed her eyes and inhaled. With a reverent tone, she whispered, “Scalecki’s is the best pizza ever. Prepare to be amazed, Mr. Marchese.”

I was every time I was around her, and knowing she’d stepped up to take care of Jonah only had me feeling that way more, but I had six weeks to let her know that.

Six weeks to calm down, take things slower, and try to see if we can make anything good that could be rebuilt from the ashes we left behind before.

“All right,” I finally said. “Let’s eat. Want to watch a show?”

“No.” She slid a piece of pepperoni mushroom pizza onto her plate. The heavy scent of tomato and garlic and spices filled the condo. “I want to know what teaching’s like. And coaching.”

“You’re on.” I grabbed my own pizza, heavy on the meat, and Scalecki’s looked like they definitely had a heavy hand with the cheese. It was thick, gooey, not overly greasy, and the crust wasn’t too thick.

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