Page 1 of Hold Your Breath

Chapter One

Willow

Have you ever been so completely humiliated yet had nowhere to turn? Well, that is my current predicament. My boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend once I can get to my damn phone, agreed to try out something new in the bedroom. If only I had waited until he got here, because now I am stuck blindfolded and tied to a chair. Naked.

I planned it all out. First, I called him and asked him to come over. Sure, he vaguely mentioned he needed to talk to me before he said he was on his way. Then, after hours and hours of watching videos and practicing, I tied myself to this fucking chair.

Everything was going well until he came into the room, looked down at me, and shook his head. He then told me he’d met someone else, someone not so clingy.

My mouth might have taken over at that point. In the heat of the moment, I may have said some not so nice things and even commented on his lack of skill in the bedroom. In hindsight, I shouldn’t have said anything while in such a vulnerable state, plus in my rage, I pulled at the ropes, causing the knots to tighten.

All the asshole did was laugh and drag my blindfold down.

Surely it would be classed as attempted murder. What if I die? I know I won’t—my roommate Bray and his boyfriend Finn will be back in a few days. It will suck for them, though, because their first view of me when they hear my shouts for help will be of my fucking pussy. At least it’s cleanly shaved.

I was hoping to leave tomorrow for our annual Easter family getaway. It’s at a cute mansion, if you can call a mansion cute, as it looks like something out of Bridgerton. My stepbrother Micah’s great uncle on his mom’s side left it to him when he passed away a few years ago, and every year we head up there to celebrate Easter. This year I swallowed my pride and asked Micah—through text message because I’m a chickenshit—if I could arrive a few days earlier than the rest of our family. My boss gives me some extratime off every holiday because she likes to spend it with her men.

I’m hoping my mother doesn’t stop by my house. She likes to pop in unannounced, but she wouldn’t understand this situation. She hates knowing I have sex before marriage; she is very conservative.In fact, Carol Brooks would have a heart attack if she could see me right now.

My stomach rumbles and the need to pee hits me hard. Fuck. There is no way I will be able to hold my bladder for the next few days.

My phone is on the bed beside me, but without the use of my arms, I can’t reach it. Besides, I only have one friend who I can call, and he is hours away on holiday and won’t be back until after Easter. That leaves my mother, my stepfather or... no... I couldn’t call my stepbrother Micah. He would never let me live this down. Every girl back in high school was jealous of the fact that I lived with him, and so many wanted to be my friend just so they could get close to him. After a while I stopped trying to make friends, especially female ones. The irony is that Micah has never been my biggest fan. We barely tolerate each other for family events and weekly dinners.

Dammit, Willow. It’s him or your mother.

I weigh up my options, spending too much time running through a few acquaintances, but there’s nonewho I would want to see me this way: naked as the day I was born, tied to a chair, with my legs spread. I can’t even remember why I thought this was a good idea.

Neither Mom nor Micah will let me live it down, but Mom will want to change me. Micah will make subtle jokes in front of my mom just to watch me squirm. Though chances are Micah will let my call go to voicemail and I will have no choice but to call my mother in the end. Sitting here for a few days is sounding better and better.

A cramp in my arm has me rethinking things, and I know I have to take my chances.

“Hey, Dash,” I call out to my phone’s digital assistant. I love how you can rename them and pick a voice.

“Hi, beautiful. What can I do for you?”

I snort at the greeting. It’s pretty ridiculous that I have to get my phone to tell me I’m beautiful, but it’s not like I have men lining up. While I’m not conventionally pretty, I’m also not what would be considered ugly either. I’m just plain old boring Willow. I look like an innocent little girl, and I hate it. Every girl wants to feel hot, and yet no matter how hard I try, I still look like a school librarian. I wish my mousy-brown hair wasn’t so lifeless—the joys of inheriting my grandmother’s fine hair—but achieving volume is impossible and braids look ridiculous on me. My eyes are a commonbrown and don’t sparkle with joy. They are average, along with the rest of my body. My breasts are too small for my shape, so my best asset is my ass, but it’s covered in stretch marks, as are my hips.

I really thought Maverick could be the one, but I should have seen the signs, the hints he dropped he was over me. It was only recently that I had the courage to bare my entire body to him. Before, we always had sex with the lights out, or half clothed. And no way did I ever let him go down on me—I wouldn’t dare open myself up, as my insecurities would have gotten the better of me.

“Call Step Monster,” I instruct Dash.

“Calling Step Monster.”

The phone rings and, as predicted, it keeps ringing. I don’t know why I expected anything else from him.

“Hi, Brookie’s phone.”

Shit, I wasn’t expecting Micah to answer, let alone a stranger.

“Um . . . hi . . . is Micah around?”

The voice clears his throat. “He’s indisposed right now. Maybe I could take a message.”

Of course he is indisposed, he’s hot and has girls throwing themselves at him.

“Could you ask him to call Willow back? I’m kind of in a situation right now and could really use his help.”

“Are you okay?” the man asks, and tears prick at my eyes.

---