Page 12 of Mistletoe Mistake
That catches him off guard and he spits out a mouthful of beer.
“How the fuck did that happen? Where did you even see her?” He wipes his chin.
“There’s some plumbing problems with my building, and I’m staying at Brandon’s for a few days.” I wait a beat before dropping the bombshell. “With Holly.”
I watch him closely for his reaction, but aside from a slight flaring of his nostrils, he gives me nothing.
We stare at each other silently and I can’t get a read on him.
Finally, I can’t take it anymore. “Nothing?” I bite out. “I thought you’d have a hell of a lot to say about that.”
Cohen stares a few moments longer and then exhales a deep sigh.
“I don’t really understand how this happened.”
“What’s to understand? My super called on Friday and told me about a plumbing emergency. I was given an hour to run home and grab some things, so then I called Brandon to see if I could stay with him for a few days. I forgot that he and Amy were visiting her parents, but he said I was welcome to stay.” I shake my head, replaying the conversation in my head. “Just before I hung up, he told me Holly was house-sitting for them, but he was sure she wouldn’t mind. It would have looked strange if I suddenly didn’t need a place as soon as he told me she was there.” My voice sounds defensive even to my own ears.
He nods slowly, deep in thought. Needing to keep my hands occupied, I grab a piece of wood and a knife off my work table and start whittling away.
“I think you could have easily said you would stay at my place or even a hotel without it looking suspicious.” Cohen meets my eye and holds it determinedly. “You chose to stay there with her because you wanted to. Man up and admit it.”
My hands stop moving and I fight back against my gut reaction to deny his accusation. But he’s right. When Brandon told me Holly was house-sitting, I suddenly couldn’t wait to get there.
“I’ll take your silence as a concession.” Cohen’s voice is entirely too smug. “You have feelings for her, Nick. If you can’t even make it twenty-four hours without making a move on her, then that’s pretty damn obvious.”
“I don’t havefeelingsfor her, I’m attracted to her. There’s a big difference.”
“That’s all it is? Really? Because for the last three years, she’s been the bar you’ve set for yourself. You pulled yourself up out of the gutter after you saw her that night. You got your life back on track because you wanted to be worthy of a woman like her.” He narrows his eyes. “Don’t you think it’s about time you admit to yourself that it’sheryou want to be worthy of?”
That night flashes through my mind, and it is almost painful to remember how it changed my life and set me on a new course.
How I’ve denied myself what I really wanted while doing everything in my power to be deserving of it.
Cohen’s right, I do want her. All of her.
The only question now, is what the fuck am I going to do about it?
5
Nick
Three years ago…
The Uber pulls up in front of a large house and the familiarity strikes me deep in my gut. It’s lit up like nothing I have ever seen before, and noise from inside filters through into the car. My head throbs, a sign I’m more sober than I like to be these days and it’s only the thought of beer, or better yet, whiskey, that forces me to thank the driver and get my ass out of the car.
It sure as hell isn’t the idea of seeing Brandon, who most likely will want to kill me for showing up to Holly’s twenty-first half drunk.
Having second thoughts, I turn back to the car just in time to see it disappear down the street.
Probably for the best. He would do more damage if I didn’t show up at all.
The air is biting and by the time I reach—stumble to—the front door, my bones feel frozen and the chill that has settled in my chest is unnerving.
The door handle turns easily, and I walk into a crowd of people, some standing around, some wandering aimlessly through the rooms I practically grew up in.
Memories start to come at me and my mouth is Sahara-desert dry. Searching for something that will relieve the ache, I spot a makeshift bar setup in what is normally the formal dining room. I make a beeline for it and help myself to a beer.
“You made it.” My best friend’s voice rises above the din of the room and I take a quick draw on my drink before turning to face the music.
