Page 55 of Infinite as They Come
“I don’t like the idea of those kids pushing him around.”
“Me either. You’re a good brother. He’s never fought back until today. Maybe he thought he couldn’t do it. This is all Spencer’s gonna talk about for weeks, and hopefully those kids won’t see him as some sort of target now.”
“Yeah, I hope so. And if you just let me know how much his new glasses are gonna cost…”
Tongue clicking, he waved a hand my way. “Don’t worry about that. I can handle it. Like I said, he was due for some new ones in a month or so, anyway. Looks like we just took a shortcut.”
“Some shortcut,” I huffed.
“I’m sad Spencer got hurt, but I’m happy he knows he has it in him to stand up for himself. And that you taught him. He’s lucky he’s got such a good big brother.”
Hand rubbing at the back of my neck, I laughed lowly. “He makes it easy. He’s a good kid. I like being his brother.”
“He really likes being yours. He’s real proud of himself, Sawyer. I’ve never seen him like that before.”
“Well, I just wanted him to know that he didn’t just have to take it, you know? He’s stronger than he realizes.”
“That he is,” Kurt said, warmth bright in his eyes. “I’ll get out of your hair, Sawyer, but don’t forget about dinner! We’d love to have you over. Holly too!”
I gave him a nod, watching as he disappeared into the house. That had gone a lot better than I had imagined. I really had been expecting my mom and Kurt to both rightfully lose their shit and tell me to never come back to their place again. But my mom seemed fine. Kurt seemed fine. And Spencer seemed over the goddamn moon, and I really liked seeing him all happy and confident.
I hopped into the truck and pulled my phone out, just about to call Mandy to see if she was still at her office, but the words looking back at me on the screen had my heart feeling all bruised and battered.
That house in Coupland has sold. I’m sorry. I’ll absolutely find you something else. I promise!
It was gone. Gone before I even got to have it. Gone before I even got to really imagine what it’d feel like to be in that home with Holly. It would have been nice to just fantasize for a couple more hours. Even just one more. Just an hour where I got to close my eyes, disappear into that dream where it was me and her, where I got to wake up with her every day in a place that was ours.
It had been perfect. Location, size, layout, lemon tree. My head rolled back against the headrest, my eyes closing as more visions of me and Holly in that house hit me with bright colors. Me painting. Her writing. Us together.
And just like that, it faded away like it was never meant to be.
Chapter 14
Holly
The water in the motel pool swished around as I kicked my bare feet back and forth. Clara was sitting down next to me, her feet dipped into the water as well while her son was busy showing us just how quickly he could swim from one end to the other.
“He’s pretty fast,” I said, eyes following Tommy across the water.
“And he won’t let you forget it,” Clara said.
“Did you guys see that?” he called out when he made his way to the end, his blond hair soaked and slicked back. Even from where I was sitting, I could see a big grin spread across his face. “Mom, did you see? Did you see how fast I was?”
“I saw, baby,” Clara said. “And the whole building heard you bragging about it too!”
He snorted and swam back our way, his little arms and legs kicking before he came to a stop in front of us. I had spent my whole day with Clara: eating lunch on her little patio and watching some TV with Tommy when he got home from school before the day got too hot and we decided to head out to the pool. Sawyer had left in the morning to go run some errands, and I couldn’t help but crane my neck to look over my shoulder, just in case I could spot him. He was nowhere to be seen, though. He had been doing that a lot lately. Disappearing all day, giving me vague answers, keeping to himself. The thought had me gripping the edge of the pool tighter, the tiles smooth and cold against my warm fingers.
“Holly, do ya want to interview me?” Tommy flashed me a smile. “You can ask me whatever.”
“You want me to ask you questions?” I asked, tilting my head at him.
“I saw you interview Travis yesterday,” he said.
“Mr. Travis,” corrected Clara, her voice bordering on stern.
Tommy nodded. “Right. Mr. Travis, from upstairs.”
Ah, Mr. Travis. He had been interesting to talk to. A decade ago, he had struck gold and won the lottery: a good ten million dollars, only for him to make some “not so good decisions” with his winnings. He had clung on to some heirlooms of his rich past, though. His motel room was stocked with Armani suits and Rolex watches. They were items he couldn’t quite bring himself to part with. Despite it all, he still seemed pretty happy.
