Page 56 of The Inn Dilemma

Holt chuckles deep, and I can feel the vibrations beneath his chest. “You shouldn’t be this cute at twenty-three.” He starts walking once more.

“Twenty-four next week,” I correct, adding to my defiance.

He leans his head forward so he’s whispering in my ear without breaking his stride. “Oh, I know, SuperNova, I have big plans.” A small shiver dances down my spine. The half smirk on his lips tells me Holt knows exactly what he just did to me. He motions with his head toward the door. “Get the doorknob for me, would you?”

My glare deepens but I do as he says. “I don’t want to celebrate my birthday.”

He looks contemplative for a second before he’s closing the door with his foot, carrying me to his bike, and carefully lowering me onto the seat.

“I don’t appreciate that you are not respecting my wishes. Going for a ride. Forcing me to celebrate my birthday.”

Holt leans forward, resting one hand on the handlebars and the other on my knee. My pulse quickens as his nose almost brushes mine. “Fine.Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want to go for a ride with me right now, and I’ll carry you right back to that couch and hand you back your book.”

I purse my lips and look away.

“Nova.” His voice deepens, and something that’s lain dormant in me springs to life.

“Yes?” I say, sweetly peeking over at him.

His eyebrow rises, and I can’t help it when my eyes trail the scar that runs through it and down his cheek, stopping at his chin. It doesn’t matter how many times I look at it, that scar will remind me of his selflessness every single time.

“Do you or don’t you want to go for a ride with me right now?” His voice is still that deep, husky sound, and I have to fight back a shiver.

“I want to,” I mumble.

Holt pulls his hand off my knee to cup his ear and lean down even further. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

“I want to go for a ride with you.” My words come out clipped.

A wicked smile curls his lips. “That’s my girl.”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, his eyeswiden as if the words slipped out without his consent. He takes a step back and runs his hands through his hair, clearly uncomfortable.

“Do you still have my helmet?” I ask, trying to mask the confusion in my voice.

“Yeah,” he answers before grabbing it out of the tail pack and then his own from the other side of the handlebars. Holt told me he had an intercom installed after our last ride. This is the first time I’ll be using it.

“Thanks.” I can’t help but feel shy. Any discomfort vanishes when I slide the helmet on and he can no longer see the blush I know is on my cheeks.

He reaches beneath my chin and flips the switch on before doing the same on his helmet.

“Can you hear me?” he asks, his voice coming through the speakers in my helmet.

“Perfectly,” I answer.

He gives me a curt nod before getting on the bike. A long, awkward silence stretches between us as we leave Rocosa behind and glide across the roads leading us to Denver.

“I’m sorry I called you my girl,” Holt says, breaking the silence.

“Don’t be,” I answer, a sudden braveness coming over me. “Fourteen-year-old me would have fainted if you called her your girl.”

His deep chuckle fills my helmet. “Did fourteen-year-old Nova have a crush on me?”

“Not exactly. Everyone else did, though.”

Something about this day, this moment, feels monumental. As if all our short walls are down, revealing each of our vulnerabilities, leaving us unashamed of the truths passing between us.

“I can’t say I felt the same way about you back then.”

---