“Who are you messaging?” She raises her brow in suspicion when I don’t fill her in.

“Just Mom. She just sent me something silly.” I somehow come up with a lie and instantly feel like shit. I’m a bad best friend.

“Oh, really? Show me.” She smirks and holds her hand out calling my bluff. Shit.

“You won't think it’s funny,” I mumble, placing my phone in my bag.

“You never know, I might think it’s really awesome.” She shrugs, not fazed with my secrecy.  She knows.

“Fine, it wasn’t Mom. Just leave it, okay?” I spill, feeling the pressure of her stare.

“Didn’t think so,” she smirks into her coffee. “Just remember, Holly, I have your back, but the longer you keep it all hidden, the harder the fallout will be,” she warns, and I know she’s right. I just need to tell him when the time is right.

Then again, when is it the right time to tell a man he’s lost a child he didn’t know he had?

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Sy

I knock on her door, trying to juggle the bags in both hands before I drop it all. Fuck. Am I doing the right thing here?

“Hi,” she says, opening the door and looking down at the bags I brought with me. She’s wearing some sweater that normally would not be a turn-on, but with her wearing it, she manages to make it look sexy as fuck.

“Hey,” I respond, walking past her to the kitchen. “I brought dinner.”

“I can see that,” she replies, closing the door and following behind me.

“Have you eaten?” I pull out food and set it down in places I’m sure it doesn’t belong.

“Sy, it’s five o’clock; no one eats this early,” she points out, still standing at the threshold of the kitchen and living room.

“I know what time it is, Holly, but I want to know have you eaten today?”

“As a matter of fact, I had lunch with Kadence.” She raises her brows, waiting to see if I’ll push.

“Well, that’s a start,” I admit, going back to the groceries.

“What is all this?” she asks, folding her arms over her chest. She looks stuck between shock and annoyance. Shocked that I shopped, annoyance that I’m back here bossing her.

“It’s called food, Holly,” I joke and watch her fight a smile. I wish she would give it to me whole.

“I know what it is, smartass. Why is it all here?”

“Well you see, last time I was here I didn’t notice much in your fridge. Thought I might help you out.”

“You went into my fridge?” she chastises me, as if I committed a felony.

“No, I mean yes,” I admit, not really sure what the fuck to say. “Shit, is that like a fucking rule you’re not supposed to break?” I ask, wondering what the right answer is.

“No, it’s just rude.”

“You should know by now I’m rude,” I tell her what she sure as fuck should already know.

“So, you went into my fridge and thought you would buy me food?” she presses, not agreeing with my rudeness, but still fucking caught up on the damn fridge incident.

“Well, I was concerned for Sam,” I offer my first thought when I opened the damn fridge.

“Sam?”

“Yeah, Sam. How the fuck does he survive living here? The dude is a fucking big guy.” I remember the first time I met him at the hospital. Tall, broody and didn't even give a fuck he had a group of bikers standing around wanting to know about his sister.

“Sam doesn’t live here. He just stays when he needs a break from whatever screw he has going on that week.”

“So Sam isn’t living here? You’re living by yourself?” I question, my concern going from mild to intense. How the fuck did I miss this shit?

“I’m a grown woman, Sy. I can live by myself,” she reassures me, but I don’t agree with that right now.

“Well, you need to eat more. You’ve lost weight.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” She gives me one of those fake laughs, pissing me off. When I met Holly almost six months ago, she was already tiny. Now standing across from me, the woman is all fucking bones.

“Believe me, it is.” I look her up and down, not at all satisfied with how she thinks she’s looking after herself.

“How much do I owe you then?” She clears her throat, obviously done with our argument.

“Nothing, it’s on me,” I tell her, placing some more food in the pantry. I don’t even know what the fuck I bought. I kind of just followed some housewife around copying her shop.

“Sy.”

“Holly,” I smirk, enjoying playing this little game with her. In the beginning, I fucking hated this shit, but now, the thought of getting a reaction from her just pushes me further to get one.

“Fine, at least let me show you where everything goes,” she grumbles as she pushes past me, and starts moving everything I’ve put away.

“Sounds good,” I say, relieved.

“So you didn’t work today?” I ask as we silently place all the groceries away.

“No, I only work part-time at the moment,” she lets me know as she walks around the kitchen placing everything where it’s meant to go. “Why do I get the feeling you already know this?”

“I don’t,” I lie, not letting on that Kadence fills me in on everything she does.

“Mmmm,” she says, not believing me. I don’t say anything. I just keep watching her as she pulls down some plates and starts serving up the takeout I bought. “Were you on ‘Holly Watch’ the other day?” she asks suspiciously. She looks up and catches me watching her.

“We’re just keeping an eye on everyone. I had the day off. Wanted to make sure you were okay after the party,” I stretch the truth a little. She doesn’t need to know the real reasons behind my following her, making sure she was dealing with everything okay.

“And tonight?” she pushes, coming around the counter to sit next to me.

Spinning on the kitchen stool, I face her. “Like I said, you have no food. You need to start looking after yourself, Holly.”

“I am looking after myself, Sy, but thank you,” she whispers down at her plate. “I might not have a kitchen full of food, but I’m trying hard to get my life back to what it was.” She looks up at me; her lost, broken eyes seeking out mine.

There is something about this woman, something that I can’t stop myself from wanting. It’s the same something that would break me if it were taken from me again, before I even had the chance to claim it.

“Eat,” I order, picking up my fork and starting. I don’t understand why I have this need to help her, why she’s constantly in my head. And what I don’t understand even more is why none of this freaks me out?

“When did you get so bossy?” she asks over a mouthful of food.

“Always have been,” I tell her, filling my own mouth. She doesn’t reply and we spend the rest of dinner in silence.

“Sy, are we going to discuss this strange night of dinner and silence?” she asks, following behind me as I take our plates to the kitchen.

“What do you want to discuss, Holly?”

“Oh, I don't know, Sy. These last few days have been very strange.”

“Why?” I turn back to her, watching her bite down on her lip with worry. She doesn’t want to ask, but I can see the need to know that flows through her.

“I don’t know why. It just has been.” She rests her hip against the kitchen counter.

“I already told you, Holly. I’m done with standing back and waiting for you to snap out of this state of denial.”

“You think hanging around my place of work, making me eat dinner and cleaning my kitchen is going to snap me out of this denial you seem to think I’m living in?”

“No.”

“No?” she fires back with that attitude hidden behind her eyes. We clearly have different views on what is happening here.

“No, the dinner the other night was because I stood outside your shop for six hours keeping watch, and I was fucking hungry. Today, I wanted to see you. Was it to bring you food? Most definitely, but you needed it. I’m cleaning our mess, because that’s what you do when you eat at someone’s house, not because I think it will get you to open up. That’s not what this is about, Holly. I’m not doing any of this hoping you snap out of it; I’m just being here for you and waiting for you do it.”