I don’t. I sincerely want him gone.
This is not the time for his pessimistic bullshit.
“Are you for real?” he asks before turning the knob for the garage service door.
I raise my brows. “Bye.”
Then my older brother is gone, the guy who taught me how to throw a pitch. The guy who ratted me out in high school when I tried to throw a house party. The guy who wouldn’t hand me a tissue after Stacy Blinkiwitcz dumped me, the jerk.
A few moments later I hear the revving engine of his beastly pickup truck. After a few moments more, the sound fades away.
“Trace?”
Hollis is in the doorway, framed by the dark wood, looking vulnerable and adorable.
“Hey!” I paste on a cheerful expression to replace the gloomy one. “There you are.” Fresh as a fucking daisy and twice as gorgeous.
I could eat her up.
Hollis glances around. “Was that a car I heard leaving?”
“It was.” I fuss with the bowls on the counter, having reheated them all, and take out two plates from the cabinet, setting them on the counter.
“Where did your brother go?”
“I asked him to leave.” Told him to, actually—but telling her that might lead to questions, and the last thing I want to do is relive the things my older brother just said.
No one needs that kind of negativity.
Good vibes only, motherfucker. Be gone.
She’s quiet, entering the kitchen in the too-big bathrobe, standing like a child dressed in her mother’s clothes, fiddling with the arm holes.
“Trace, can I be honest?”
I love it when she says my name. “I thought we already were.”
That makes her smile. “I overheard you.”
Crap. “Which part?”
“Most of it.” She moves closer. “I don’t know what to say.”
I smile, taking her face in my hands now that she’s standing in front of me. “That’s a first.”
Her entire face registers shock. “You asshole!” She swats at me, but we both end up laughing.
“Oh please.” I kiss the tip of her nose and move back to distribute the food. “When have you ever been at a loss for words?”
Her hands go to her hips. “Plenty of times.”
“Oh yeah?” I scoop up some chicken lo mein and spoon it onto one plate, then some onto the other. “Name one time.”
She scoffs. “I can’t come up with an example right off the top of my head—don’t be ridiculous.”
“Because it’s never happened.”
Hollis scrunches up her nose. “Can you not change the subject?”
I sigh. “Fine. What did you want to say about my jerk brother? I’m sorry for what he said, alright? That’s why I asked him to leave.”
Her pretty head gives a pretty little shake. “I wasn’t going to say anything about Tripp—I wanted to talk about what you said.”
I rack my brain but can’t remember the things that were flying out of my mouth, I was so pissed.
She tilts her head. “The part where you said you care about me—so it doesn’t matter that you aren’t dating me.”
“Hmm, yes. Yes I did say that…”
Hollis presses her body into mine, and I have to hold the spoon out of the way so it doesn’t get yummy yummy sauce in her hair.
“And the part where you said if you want me in your life, you have to show me you’re there all the time and not just during the off-season.”
The way she’s rubbing up against me is a good sign. A very good sign. “Did you like that?”
“Mmhmm. It turned me on.” Her fingers toy with the neckline of my t-shirt. “No one has ever chosen me before.”
Well shit. That breaks my fucking heart and I don’t know what to say to that—mostly because she’s being playful. Even so, the words are a confession steeped in deeply rooted hurt and without knowing I was doing it…I healed her a bit today.
Me.
Simply by going to her when she needed someone.
“Hollis, can I ask you something?” I push a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Hmm?”
“Why didn’t Madison show up today? Why did she call me instead?”
“That’s a very good question,” she says. “And I did call her on my way home. We talked about it, and…to be completely honest…she was giving you the chance to step up.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’ve said you like me countless times. You showed up at my place after my dad said those shitty things and after my confrontation with Marlon, and I think she was testing you.”
My chest puffs out like Superman. “I will never understand women.”
But I sure as shit passed the test if the hands around my neck are any indication, if the lips on my mouth are a sign, if the—
The timer on my phone goes off and I gasp. “Shit—I have dinner rolls in the oven!” I must go to them!
“Dinner rolls?” Hollis asks, confused. “When did you have time to make bread? And since when do you bake?”