“Prove what?”
“That I can be committed.”
“That’s not necessary. Besides, that’s not how this works. You commit to someone when you care about them.”
“Then let me show you I can get to know you. That I can keep my dick in my pants.”
“Do you hear yourself right now? Is this really worth the effort of me falling into bed with you?”
“You said it yourself. You don’t know me. You’re judging me from what you’ve seen in the media. You of all people should know that the media exaggerates.”
I nod because he’s right. I do know that. My parents have dealt with it over the years, and my sister and her husband have as well. Hell, both of them still do at times. The media is always looking for something to twist in their favor to sell magazines and get more subscribers.
“Come on, sweet pea. Let me prove it to you.”
“I don’t want to play this game, Holden.”
“No games.” He holds his hands up in the air. “Just me and you. Getting to know one another. If that leads to more, then it leads to more.”
“I-I don’t know.” I’m torn. Part of me wants to hold strong, and the other part wants to see if the player is finally going beyond the play.
“Give me your number.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and unlocks the screen before handing it to me. “We can keep in touch. You can take some time to think about it. I don’t want you to avoid your favorite place because you’re afraid of running into me, and I don’t want to not communicate with you for weeks on end. We can start with calls and texts. You control the pace. Just promise that when we walk out of here, you’re not going to ghost me.”
I bite down on my bottom lip. I know that if I agree to this, I’m setting myself up for heartbreak. Any time spent with this man sitting across from me will only have me falling for him. I know that. I know I won’t be able to keep my heart out of the equation. However, as long as I don’t sleep with him, maybe I can keep the damage to my heart to a simple crack and not have it blown to a million tiny pieces when this ends or backfires on me.
Taking his phone from his hands, I open his contacts and type in my number before handing it back to him. “I reserve the right to say if this is too much. If I tell you that this” I wave between us “whatever it turns out to be is over, it’s over.”
“I don’t know if I can agree to that.”
“Then the deal of taking it slow and getting to know each other is off the table. You can delete my number.”
“What if you fall in love with me?” he asks. He’s not being cocky this time. His tone and his facial expression tell me he’s serious. “I can’t just let you walk away if that’s the case.”
“What if you fall in love with me?” I toss his words back at him.
“Never been in love.” He shrugs. “Probably won’t be an issue, but I already know that if you do fall for me, like that, it would be hard for me to let you walk away.”
“Slow, Bailey.”
I watch as his fingers fly across the screen of his phone before he puts it into his pocket. My phone vibrates on the table. “You better check that.” He smiles softly.
Unknown: We’ll take it slow, sweet pea. You hold all the control here.
I stare at my phone, not sure I can believe the words he’s sent me, but wanting to. I really want to believe him. I quickly add his number to my contacts and type out a reply.
Me: Slow.
“I should get going,” I say, slipping my phone into my purse and packing up the rest of my things.
“You want to come shopping with me?”
I smile at him. “You should look up the definition of slow.”
“Fine.” He returns my smile. “I’ll walk you to your car.” He grabs my bag and throws it over his shoulder as we both slide out of the booth.
With his hand on the small of my back, we make our way out of the café. His fans are waiting for us and swarm him before the door to the café is even closed. He holds up his hands to stop them. “Hold up. It’s freezing cold out here. Let me get my girl in her car, and then I’ll sign whatever you want me to.”
Shouts of “thanks” and “is she your girlfriend?” follow us as he walks me with his hand on the small of my back to my car. I quickly unlock the door and climb inside. He hands me my bag and bends down so that we’re face-to-face.
“Drive safe.”
“Always.”
“Text me when you get home.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to argue that I’m a big girl, but he appears to be sincere, so I nod. He reaches in and taps my nose with his index finger before stepping back and closing the door.
CHAPTER 10
Holden
Finally, I’m able to break away from the crowd and make my way to my truck. I must have signed a hundred autographs and taken just as many pictures. I don’t mind it as the fans keep me in a job, but today, I just wanted to be with her. I had to field questions of who she was to me. I left it at “she’s my girl.” I know that they read more into it than what this currently is between us, but no way was I telling them she was available. I don’t need the competition. Not when it comes to Parker. Waiting for my truck to warm, I check my phone for a message from her, and sure enough, she sent one three minutes ago.
Parker: Made it home.
Me: Dinner?
She replies with a string of laughing emojis, which makes me smile. I admit it’s nice that she calls me out and doesn’t just fall at my feet. At first, I hated it, but it’s growing on me. She’s growing on me.
Me: You have to eat to live.
Parker: S.L.O.W.
Parker: Repeat that over and over, Bailey.
I toss my head back in laughter. This girl is full of sass, and I love it. I knew she was going to turn me down. Hell, I’m surprised she gave me her number. It’s not in my nature to give up, though, and I figure regardless of her wanting to go slow, I’m not going to stop asking for more time with her. There is just something about her that pulls me in. My conversation with the guys comes to mind, and I’m glad I didn’t make that bet. Parker is worth more than that. One afternoon in her presence where we’re not grinding against each other or tossing out constant barbs is enough to know that.
Me: Fine. Can I at least call you?
Parker: You just saw me.
Me: Not long enough.
Parker: Autumn and I are making dinner.
Me: Great. What can I bring?
I laugh as I hit send. I can see her rolling those pretty blue eyes of hers and probably biting down on her bottom lip. Fuck me, but I want to kiss her. I don’t think I’ve ever craved a kiss in my life, but I do with her.
Parker: You’re not invited.
Me: You wound me, sweet pea.
Her reply is an eye roll emoji. I don’t have to look in the mirror to see the smile lighting up my face. She knows how to keep me on my toes. That should worry me, but it just intrigues me more.
Me: Can we talk later?
I’m trying not to sound desperate for little scraps of her time, but that’s what it’s starting to feel like. It’s almost as if my time watching her work this week has switched something inside me. She’s dedicated, and her sass… fuck me, do I love her sass. I watched her that first day, and she looked stressed, so I decided to let her be. I didn’t want to be responsible for her missing out on study. She was already there by the time I got to the café on Tuesday, and she was deep into her studies, and I chose to let her be again. Wednesday and Thursday were the same way. Today, however, I needed to talk to her. I watched her work for hours and knew she had to be hungry. She needed more sustenance than just the caffeine she seemed to be living on while she was here. I slipped out and went across the street to grab her something, and well, here we are. I have her number and the challenge for us to get to know each other slowly.