My mouth goes dry. I swallow thickly, trying to gain back rational thought, but it escapes me. When Holland realizes what I've got in my hand, her cheeks flame the same color of her nightie and she snatches it from my hand and shoves it back into the half-opened suitcase.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Now I can't stop picturing her wearing nothing but that little red negligee, and me ripping it off of her into a pile of tattered lace on the floor. I want it, fuck, Ineedit.
"Weed?" Evan asks, breaking my trance. He pronounces his r's like w's, so he's taken to calling me, weed. Honestly, I don't even give a shit. At least he's opening up to me.
I clear my throat, swallowing down the thoughts in my head. "Sorry, buddy. You hungry?"
Evan nods. For a three-year-old kid that's been through the shit he has, he's a great kid. He's quiet. Observant, for a toddler, and can even play by himself.
Holland quickly picks up her clothes that have fallen out, and I hand her the card to her room. She’s obviously embarrassed and is avoiding my eyes, but fuck, I can’t stop picturing her in it.
We make it to our rooms as she shifts nervously from one foot to the other. “So, tomorrow?
I nod. “Yeah, uh, meet here in the morning? Eight?”
She nods. “Okay. Goodnight, Evan.” She leans down and gives him a hug then faces me. “Goodnight, Reed.”
“Goodnight.”
I bring Evan into our room, and for the rest of the night, my thoughts are consumed with Holland Parker.
“What’s on the agenda for today? You decide,” I ask Holland as we walk out of the hotel toward the closest subway station. Evan’s hand is clasped tightly in mine, and everything we pass, he wants to stop and admire. Can’t say that I blame him. At his age, everything’s big and exciting and I like seeing the world through his eyes.
Holland’s eyes are just as wide and full of wonder as she takes in the city. I can’t believe she’s never been outside of Chicago before. At least now that she’s traveling with us, she can see new places and experience new things.
“That’s a lot of pressure, Reed,” she mutters, chewing on her lip.
I chuckle. “Not really. Pick what you wanna do, and me and Ev are down for the ride. Anything.”
“Anything?” she asks.
“Within reason.”
She hits me playfully on the shoulder. “I mean, we could go to Fenway. I could be a baseball fan.”
My eyes narrow and I shake my head. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”
The audacity of this girl.
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Holland pulls out her phone as we walk and starts typing away furiously. “Oh, what about this?” She shows me her screen.
“Boston Tea Party ship and museum? That sounds awesome. I think Evan would love it.”
She nods. “I’ve never even been on a boat, and this is like a giant replica of a historic one. We have to go. It looks like we catch the Blueline over there.”
“You have ridden the subway before, right?” I tease. She lives in Chicago, so I know she has, but I like getting a rise out of her.
She rolls her eyes and looks back down at the subway map on her phone. “Yes, I’ve ridden the subway. I just haven’t ever seen outside of Chicago. I’ve always wanted to, though.”
We walk the rest of the way in comfortable silence, aside from Evan’s excited chatter. Who knew a three-year-old could have so much to say? A short subway ride and walk later, and we’ve made it to the boat.
Holy shit, they weren’t kidding, this thing is a legit replica. Well, if I had to guess what the Boston Tea Party ship looked like.
Evan gasps when he sees it. “A pirate ship, Weed?” He’s so excited he’s bouncing on his toes, clutching Pickles.
Not gonna lie, there aren’t many things better than seeing the genuine excitement on his face and I never realized how much I needed his happiness until now.