Page 132 of Infatuated as They Come
She looked so damn excited as she tapped her hands against her thighs. I pushed a hand into the bag and felt around, frowning as I felt a bunch of hard bits of plastic. They felt like cards. I pulled one out, seeing a shiny, gold ‘Art on 5th’embossed across the front. It was a gift card. A gift card to one of the most expensive art supply stores in the city, one I had been in once and left in a second flat when I saw how much everything cost. Flipping the card over, my eyes narrowed when I saw five hundred dollars scrawled across the top. But there were more cards in the bag. An endless amount. Every single one I checked had the same amount written on it.
“Jesus Christ, how many did you get?” I asked.
“The most they let me put on a single card was five hundred dollars,” she said, “so I had to get a whole bunch. Very inconvenient, I know.”
“How many is there?”
“I can’t remember.”
“Miss Money Bags over here, huh?” I asked. “Holly, you didn’t have to do this. This is a lot. This is too much. Thank you, but I can’t take all this.”
“You can, and you will, and you’ll enjoy all of it because you’re allowed to.”
“You spent so much on me and this is just the second gift. And all I gave you was some scrap paper.”
“No,” Holly said, picking up the paper and holding it to her chest again. “You gave me something no one has ever given me before. You gave me something that’s special and priceless, something I’ll keep forever, something that came from you. You always give me things I’ll remember forever. That stuff’s so much more important to me than some dumb, expensive thing you can only buy in a designer store.”
“All I wanna do is make you happy,” I said. “I guess this is the only way I know how. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough, but… But it is. I know that now.”
“The things you give me? I could only ever get them from you, and they mean so much to me because I know how much thought you put into them,” she said as her eyes softened. “I like the little things. To me they’re not even little. You know, my whole life I’ve had people just throw money at me. Birthdays, Christmas. It’s always the same thing. People just buy me stuff from Chanel or Cartier and think it’ll make me happy. And they’re all lovely gifts and I appreciate every one of them, but it doesn’t really mean anything when it comes from someone who just throws their credit card at a luxury store because it sounded good. I’ve never had anyone do what you do. Like making me those beautiful glass flowers from scratch, or making drawings of me, or saving up to buy me something really beautiful.” She held a hand to her chest, fingers clawing at nothing but air. I’d have to fix the necklace when we got home. “It’s the first time I’ve ever had someone put so much thought and effort into me. I’m the luckiest girl in the world.”
“You’re sweet,” I said. “I’m glad you like all that stuff. I really like giving it to you. Makes me so happy when you’re happy. I wanna do that forever.”
My hands found her waist and I held her against me, lips pressed to the top of her head as I squeezed at her. That invisible bridge that had been growing felt like it was shrinking bit by bit. I’d build and make anything she wanted from scratch if it meant her eyes would light up the way they were right now. Blisters, cuts, burns, tired and aching hands. That was all worth it for her.
Chapter 33
Holly
It had been a strange Christmas. No parents, no home, no extravagant, over the top celebration—but it had still been the best one ever, because Sawyer had managed to make it meaningful and lovely despite that horrific mess with my dad.
On the drive back home, I kept that beautiful glass flower in my lap, my fingers gently running along it as I imagined it there in my vase, right there on the bedside table. Just like with all the flowers Sawyer brought me back home, I’d get to look at this one every night before I fell asleep while I stayed there in his arms. Except this one would last forever.
Now with the holidays behind us we were back in New York, and me and Sawyer had to get stuck into both of our responsibilities, and I hoped with everything in me that we wouldn’t go back to how things were before.
“Are you as sweaty as I am?” Claudia asked from behind me, dragging me right out of my thoughts.
We were a good forty minutes into practice and had finished up our warmups, jumps, and tumbling, but we still had to get into stunting and routine work. “Yes. Let’s not talk about it,” I said, taking a sip of water from my bottle.
She laughed, fanning at herself with both hands. “So, how was your Christmas? You went back to Dallas, right?”
“Yup. It was…” Messy, lovely, disastrous and special all at once. “It was good to have a break from school for a little while.”
“But not from cheer, right?”
“No, not cheer. I missed cheering. I always do.”
“Me too. I was literally dreaming about it. Would you believe me if I said my mom found me doing high kicks in my sleep?”
“You? Yes. Absolutely.”
“She said I have an addiction.”
“Only a slight one. How was your break?”
“Good. I really missed Boston and my parents. It was so good to see them again. They both cried when I left which was kinda heartbreaking. Did yours do the same?”
“Uh…”
