“You’re very competent.”
He nodded. “I save lives, but I also bust heads.”
That made me laugh. It was the kind of joke he would have made in science lab. “What made you decide to be an EMT?” I asked him.
“That’s a long story.”
“I guess you can’t tell it, then. Oh, wait—I happen to be here precisely so you can tell me a long story, and I have nowhere else to go.”
He smiled. “Speaking of stories, I got bored at headquarters the other day and shopped for romance novels.”
I almost choked on my hot chocolate. “You what?”
“Sure. My shifts are usually busy, but there is occasional down time. I figured I should try one of the books you like to read. To give me some insight into the mind of Mina Maple.”
I was pretty sure my mind was not a place anyone wanted to go, but it still seemed like a sweet gesture. “What did you find?”
“It was kind of bewildering. I had no idea there were so many kinds of romance novels. I had to guess what kind you read.” He ticked off a list with his fingers. “I figure you don’t read the ones with the big, poufy dresses on the front. That doesn’t seem like you. Some of them seemed to be about billionaires and had guys in suits on the front. Those were a maybe.”
I was impressed with his guesses so far. “Every girl likes a billionaire,” I said.
“So I hear. Some of the books had no sex in them—I figured those were out. There were some cowboys with no shirts on, which I thought you’d probably at least try.”
I nodded. “I do like cowboys, but not all the time. I have to be in the mood.”
“Then there were vampires, werewolves, motorcycle clubs. A lot of books just have mostly naked men on the front. Considering how much you ogle me, I figure those are your favorites.”
I was outraged, because he was completely right. “Holden Whittaker, I do not ogle you!” I cried, despite the fact that I’d already ogled him vigorously at least three times tonight alone.
“You ogle me,” Holden said. “Not that I mind. You think I look hot when I wash the ambulance.”
Part of me wanted to sink into the ground and vanish. “It’s the uniform. I’m helpless when I see it. Just ignore me, please.”
“I like the ogling. And I’m going to buy one of those books and read it, because I want to know what you like.”
I wanted to sink into the ground again, because that was sexy. So, so sexy. It made me feel like jumping him right here in Central Park, so I said, “We should talk about more serious things, like the story you promised to finish telling me the last time we met.”
Immediately, Holden stopped smiling, his jaw tightening. He glanced at me. “Do you still have my watch?”
“Yes, I do. And before you ask yet again, I’m taking good care of it. Now, tell me more of the story of prom night.”
“Okay,” Holden said. He didn’t have a drink, so he shoved both hands in his pockets as we strolled down one of the paths, the cool early-summer air on our cheeks. “So I lived with my parents and Caleb, and I played all the sports and got all the good grades. I told you that part.”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t look any of this up online?”
I held up my hand as if swearing in court. “I promise I didn’t. I want to hear this from you.”
That seemed to give him pause for a second. “You’re right, that’s how you should hear this. Caleb was five years older than me, which was why we weren’t in high school together. His grades weren’t as good as mine, though he played basketball. It wasn’t good enough for my parents, who were on his case relentlessly. Nothing he did was good enough. He got sick of it, and they fought a lot. Caleb was the bad son, so I worked extra hard at being the good son, the one who didn’t get yelled at all the time.”
I could feel my heart squeezing slowly, tightly as he talked. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I had no idea.”
Holden glanced at me. “You weren’t supposed to have any idea. I made sure of it. Being the good son meant I never showed the cracks underneath. Not to anyone.”
I thought back. Holden had always seemed so perfect in high school, as if everything—school, sports, life—was easy for him. “Your act was pretty flawless,” I said. “Except…”
Holden’s brows went up. “Except?”
“Except you never had girlfriends.” I felt my cheeks get hot, and I brought my cup to my lips, hoping the relative darkness would hide it. “I mean, not that I noticed.” Not that it made me think I maybe had a shot at dating you. Which I didn’t.
He was quiet for a second, as if trying to read my thoughts. Then he said, “I dated a little, but you’re right, no girlfriends. A girlfriend can get too close and see too much. I couldn’t afford that. I didn’t want anyone to see what was really going on.”
“Which was?”
Holden sighed. “Caleb was still living at home after high school. He didn’t even apply to college. He said it was because he didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life. He got a job as a dishwasher in a restaurant and started hanging out with the restaurant crowd. He worked until two or three in the morning most nights, and a lot of nights he didn’t come home at all. At first I wondered stupidly why Caleb was never tired. Then I realized he was taking speed.”
“Oh,” I said.
“The weird thing about the restaurant crowd is that there are a lot of drugs. A lot. It’s how so many of them stay up during long shifts and late nights. Caleb started with speed, and then he mixed in Adderall. Then he moved to coke and meth. Anything to keep him up.”
“Oh, my God, Holden,” I said, stricken. “I’m so sorry.”
He had tensed now, his arms so tight I could tell that his hands in his pockets were clenched into fists, though none of the tension had to do with me. “By my senior year, he was pretty much an addict, though he wouldn’t admit it,” he said as if I hadn’t spoken. “All of his money went to drugs, and when he ran out he’d steal from my parents. From me. He borrowed from unsavory people he shouldn’t have borrowed from. He dated various girls he met in the restaurant business and stole from them, too. I’m pretty sure he stole from the till or the tip jar, though he never got caught doing it. Caleb was charming, and he was smart. If he really wanted to steal your money, he’d find a way.”
“What did your parents do?” I asked.
Holden shrugged, the motion angry. “They denied it at first. For years. No way was their son a drug addict. They tried to pretend everything was fine for a long time, that Caleb was just a wild kid who needed to be put into line so he could straighten out and succeed. They wouldn’t hear any other version of the story. Caleb himself wouldn’t admit there was a problem. He said he was just having fun. So what was I supposed to do?”
My heart squeezed again. The hot chocolate had gone cold in my cup. I’d sat next to Holden in science lab and laughed at his jokes and crushed on him, and I’d never had any idea this was going on. None.
“So we get to my senior year,” Holden said. “I’m the perfect son, and Caleb is off the rails. He’s barely home, and when he is, he and my parents are screaming at each other, or he’s trying to steal their money. Meanwhile I’m doing basketball playoffs and swim meets like nothing is wrong. That’s why I didn’t have a girlfriend—because any girlfriend would see what a shit show I had going on at home. I didn’t have any close friends either, for the same reason. My life pretty much sucked, and I was lonely. Except for you.”