He rubbed his chest attempting to settle the ache, a real of old memories of his dad treating him like a spare tire while his mother worked her ass off to take support the two of them. The loneliness ate at him sometimes, but he never said a word, not wanting his mom to feel guilty. He’d coped with the isolation and pain by concentrating on being the perfect student and son, getting good grades, eating all his vegetables, and never arguing. He simply swallowed all of his pain and avoided getting too close to anyone or becoming too invested in any relationship. Maybe I had it right back then. I’d never intended to pursue Mary Allison.I should have kept things professional no matter how into her I am.
He could have kept her as an elusive goddess to dream about while he continued to casually date women who approached him. Of course, everything was a lot easier while she was holding me at arm’s length. If only I hadn’t risked striking up a conversation with her online—about a geeky TV obsession of his, no less. He groaned, holding his head with both hands. I’m so stupid. I never should have come when she invited me over. He pinched the bridge of his nose.
If his second major in literature had taught him anything it was that fools like Tristan, Romeo, and Paris sealed their fates by allowing themselves to love too deeply. If he let himself get in any deeper, she could break him. He wouldn’t run toward that kind of anguish. So that’s it then. I shut it down.
Chapter Four
When Mary Allison returned with food for the guys, she noted Holden’s pained expression, but before she could question him, Mark distracted her. While she was gone, the other artist had learned her pen name, and his whole demeanor toward her had changed from distant to treating her like an old friend. As an artist, she understood the inclination to connect with someone because you appreciated or identified with his or her work in some way.
Once he opened up and stopped acting so sketchy, Mary Allison found a lot of common ground with Mark, and they even discussed the possibility of collaborating on a couple of one-shots. Mary Allison made a mental note to thank Holden for introducing them. However, thanking him would have to take a backseat to all the kissing, licking, rubbing, grinding, riding, caressing, and full-on fucking much higher up on the list of things she wanted to do to the man who had rocked her world with only his fingers.
Mary Allison glanced up at her editor as he sat across the room perusing some of Mark’s reading material. Noticing the creases in his forehead, and how tensely he gripped his coffee mug. Sheesh, Mark must have been on his nerves while I was out. Oh, well, I’ll work that tension out once we’re alone. The corners of her lips turned upright as her cheeks flushed warm. Realizing Mark’s unfinished manuscript was the only obstacle in her way of resuming their romp, a newly energized Mary Allison buckled down.
“Finally!” Mark huffed in relief. “I think we got it, Marley!” During the last hour of their collaboration, Mark had determined “Mary Allison” was a ridiculously long name she had been saddled with by overly religious, Irish Catholic parents. Since she couldn’t exactly argue with his insightful analysis, she allowed the nickname.
She sat back and slumped. “I sure hope so.” She rubbed her hands. “My fingers are aching and my brain is exhausted!”
Holden came over, checked the storyboards, and nodded. “I’ll gather everything and take it all with me.”
Mary Allison eyed his stiff posture. He seemed so much more guarded than earlier in the day. Maybe he’s bored and listless from sitting around waiting for us to finish for so long. The corners of her lips turned upward and butterflies fluttered in her tummy as her gaze traveled down his fit body. I know a good way to pep him up—maybe I’ll suck that dick once I get him back in the car.
“Are you ready, Mary Allison?” She couldn’t read Holden’s expression but he didn’t seem excited for a chance to get her alone.
“Oh, yeah.” She shot him the flirtiest smile she could muster and winked. Her nipples scrubbing the inside of her bra as they hardened. Her body couldn’t forget his touch from earlier, and she ached to feel his hands on her skin again.
Holden didn’t say a word as he led her out to the car and unlocked her side for her. He didn’t even look at her even as he gallantly went through the motions of being a perfect gentleman. Mary Allison frowned, furrowing her brow. What the hell?Maybe he needs a little encouragement. Once they backed out of the driveway and began heading down the road, she placed her index finger on his knee and began tracing figure eights. As Holden flinched at her touch, her eyes widened and her heart sunk.
When did his feelings cool off so dramatically? He hadn’t seemed mad at her after she’d scolded Mark about the condition of his bathroom. He had kissed her before she left to get the food. The only thing that changed when she returned was her interaction with Mark, and he had certainly gotten past any discomfort or bruised feelings. Mary Allison glanced at her editor as he looked straight ahead at the road, his posture stiff. He wouldn’t be silly enough to be jealous of Mark. Would he? The man wasn’t her type and the idea that her affections would turn from Holden
