Chapter Twenty-Three

Holt Actually Gives Good Advice, Surprisingly

Larkin

There was a long, long moment of silence after I finally stopped talking. Breathing fast, I scrubbed roughly at my eyes and cleared my throat, sniffing hard to stop my nose from running.

"Jesus Christ, Lark." Holt downed the rest of his drink, then turned and grabbed a bottle of dark rum off the shelf.

I couldn't think of anything to say after blurting all that out, so I just picked up my glass and had a tiny sip.

"Which bedroom?"

I flushed. "The one with the, um, big lawn flamingo."

Holt sighed heavily. "Okay. What the fuck is a fuckletics instructor?"

I couldn't even smile. "I just called it that to… I just… I was so nervous about all of it, and I wanted to get it out of the way, and Seb's so nice and he was so… cool about it." I found myself getting choked up again, so I gulped down more of my drink.

"So Seb agreed to this?" Holt asked slowly.

Panic suddenly gripped me, making me stare at him with wide eyes. "Please don't fire him. Or me," I added uncertainly.

He rolled his eyes. "I'm obviously not going to fire either of you. But why do you think he agreed to it, Lark?"

My shoulders rose in a jerky shrug. "Because he's really nice. He's just… the best."

After a pause, Holt huffed and poured himself some rum. "Can't believe Taylor was right."

"What?" My head jerked up to stare at him.

"Taylor is convinced there's something going on between you two." An affectionate smile twisted his mouth.

"What? No." I laughed too loudly. "There's not something going on between us."

Holt gave me a flat look. "You just told me he's your ‘fuckletics instructor.'"

I flushed. "Yeah, but that's just… that. He only agreed to help me because we're friends. It's not like he's actually interested in me in that way."

Holt pursed his lips and said nothing. I heaved a huge sigh and looked down at my glass.

"Is that what's made you sad?" he then asked in a weirdly gentle voice.

"What?" I mumbled.

"That you think he's not interested in you that way. For more than just… fuckletics practice. Whatever you've been calling it."

Confusing, nervous fear streaked through me.

"I'm not sad," I automatically said, even though I'd just said I was. Several times. But that had only been… nervous rambling or something. "I'm just… I don't even know."

"So Seb ‘seemed kind of weird' when you told him you'd told Kit you were dating?"

"Yeah." I squirmed. "He said he doesn't care if I tell people that, but… he said if people think we're dating, the wrestlers won't want to… do stuff with me anyway." I felt a little ill saying that. "Which is the whole reason we're… you know."

"Mm." Holt sounded like he wanted to say something, but he just sipped his drink and watched me.

I started rubbing my fingertip aggressively over one of the claw marks on the bar, sitting rigid in my seat. After a long pause, I found myself blurting, "I don't even want to mess around with any of the wrestlers."

Holt's brows slowly rose. "Really?"

I nodded, swallowing thickly, and admitted, "Maybe I did before, when it… when it didn't even seem like something that could really happen. Like, I liked the idea of it. But now that I've actually done stuff with Seb, I just—The thought of it just makes me feel… anxious. In a really bad way."

"Larkin," Holt began patiently, "you don't have to do anything you don't want to, with anyone. It doesn't matter if you've hinted at it and flirted with them. It doesn't even matter if you've made literal, concrete plans and set a time and date to fuck one of them. If you don't want to do it, do not fucking do it, and do not let anyone make you feel like you're obligated just because you might've mentioned wanting to have sex with them in the past."

I nodded and mumbled, "I know. I wouldn't. Seb, um, said something similar last night too."

"Good. Sounds like you made a good choice in your fuckletics instructor, " Holt said wryly, then carefully asked, "But, so… you do like having sex with Seb?"

"Y-yeah. Yes," I croaked. "A lot. I think it's because he's… really good at it. And it's all… new and stuff."

Except something about that didn't sit quite right.

After a pause, Holt snorted an exasperated laugh and reached across the bar to pat my arm. "Oh, Lark."

"What?" Heat flooded my cheeks.

"I'd just forgotten how clueless we can all be at your age."

"I'm not clueless!" I shot back defensively. Except I often felt a little clueless about a lot of things.

Holt chuckled. "Sorry, I didn't mean that the way it sounded. I just…" He sighed and leaned on the bar again to gaze at me intently. "Look, I'm not going to tell you how you feel about Seb—even though I could . Literally right now. I could tell you exactly what emotions are pouring off you while you think about him."

"No, you couldn't," I mumbled, trying to shield myself from his creepy empyn powers.

"Honestly, I'm not entirely clear on what it was that upset you just now, but it seems like it was the thought of Seb ending your… arrangement because you confused things by telling Kit you're dating." He raised his brows at me, sipping his drink. "So what does that tell you, hmm?"

I stared back at him, nonplussed. "Um…"

Holt stayed silent, still gazing at me expectantly.

"Um… It means…" I rubbed my cheek, starting to sweat a little. It felt like I was taking an exam. "I don't want the thing with Seb to end yet? But I already knew that. We still have… stuff we haven't done."

"So it's purely about the fuckletics practice," Holt said, deadpan. "That's why you don't want it to end. Because you haven't covered all the bases yet, so to speak."

"I think so…?" After trailing off, I let out a quick breath and shook my head. "I mean, no. No, that's not the only… We've been hanging out more, and I really… I really like spending time with him. A lot. And I guess I'm worried that it might all stop when we're done with our… thing."

"So you really like spending time with him, and you really like having sex with him, and you really don't want to have sex with anyone else."

Thinking about it, I nodded. "Yeah."

"Which means…"

I was back to fidgeting and staring at him anxiously. "Um…"

"Jesus fucking…" Holt pinched the bridge of his nose. "Give me fucking strength."

I went red, hunching my shoulders. "I'm not trying to be an idiot, dude."

"You're not an idiot, Lark. You're just young and you've never been in this situation before."

"This feels like a pretty unique situation," I said doubtfully.

Holt snorted. "I didn't mean the fuckletics thing. I meant the rest. How you feel about Seb."

"Seb's my friend," I said uncomfortably, except that didn't feel quite right coming out of my mouth either.

"He is," Holt agreed steadily. "And he's a really great guy. And he's obviously been very understanding. He's calm and mature. Plus, he's pretty handsome, right?"

"What?" I squawked out a laugh. "He's—I mean—Y-yeah, anyone can see that he's… Shut up."

"He'd make a wonderful partner, right?" Holt continued. "A really amazing boyfriend for the right person. For someone who loves spending time with him, and likes how calm and nice he is, and enjoys sitting at the back of the private box with him doing crossword puzzles instead of watching the wrestling."

"Yeah," I breathed, nodding in agreement. Whoever Seb ended up with was… super lucky. The luckiest.

"Seb's very level-headed and doesn't make rash decisions, so he must've had a really good—or really specific —reason for agreeing to your fuckletics plan."

"Um…" I rubbed my cheek again. "He's just… really nice."

Holt closed his eyes and let out a slow breath, then gulped down his rum. "I tried."

"Tried what?" I asked uncertainly.

"Here's what I think you should do," he announced instead of answering me. "Obviously you don't have to listen to me, but for once, I'm going to pull the age card here. I do have a bit more experience with this."

"Okay…" I watched him warily.

"You should go and tell Seb exactly what you just told me. That you don't actually want to have sex with any of the wrestlers. You just want to have sex with him. You love spending time with him."

Terror made my entire body clench up. I shook my head frantically. "Oh my god, dude, I can't tell him that!"

"Why not?"

"Because he'll think… It'll sound like… like…" I swallowed. "Like I want to… be with him."

"Don't you?"

My belly tightened, something fluttering through my chest.

"He'll think I'm a total loser," I mumbled. "He only agreed to the… fuckletics thing. That's all it's supposed to be. I can't go and tell him that I… that I might…"

"He won't think you're a loser, Lark," Holt said flatly. "Trust me."

"I can't," I croaked, my palms growing clammy at the thought of saying all of that to Seb.

I'd be the inexperienced virgin who'd gotten overly attached to the one person who'd agreed to help me as a friend. And if I told him all of that, he'd have to gently let me down—tell me that he'd only agreed to the lessons, not anything else. Not a relationship with me. I couldn't think of anything more humiliating.

Holt sighed and reached over to squeeze my hand. I let myself cling on weakly, needing the comfort, but wishing it was Seb's hand. Wishing I could just nestle into him like I had in his bed last night after I'd made him come.

"Do what feels right," Holt said steadily, then released me and huffed. "It's particularly horrifying to see Larkin Fairchild so sad. I've never seen you sad before. I didn't think it was possible. You're like… the sun. But one that never sets, so eventually the constant daylight starts driving you a little crazy, but you still like it for some reason."

I smiled weakly. "Thanks. Um, I think. I don't get sad all that often, I guess."

"Well, I'm sorry you're feeling that way now." He paused. "Do you want to head home early?"

Holy crap. This was weird . Holt was being all… nice. He'd listened to me and given me advice and hadn't told me I was a moron for getting myself into this situation.

"Um…" I had no freaking idea how to act around Seb right now, which wasn't his fault, but the thought of sitting in the office with him made me break out in a panicked sweat. "Um, maybe. If that's okay."

"Sure. Finish your drink and take off."

"Thanks, Holt." I quickly gulped down another mouthful and stood, then froze. "Oh. Shit. My keys are on my desk."

Holt watched me intently. "You don't want to go get them?"

"I just…" I squirmed. "I feel… weird right now."

After a beat of silence, he nodded. "Okay. No problem. I'll get them for you. Come on."

I trailed after him out of the arena and back down the corridor to the office, then waited anxiously outside while he went in.

"Hey, Seb," I heard him say casually.

"Is Larkin okay?" Seb asked immediately. There was a rustle and a creak. I pictured him putting down his crossword book and standing up from the couch.

"He's feeling a little under the weather, so he's heading home." There was a jangle of metal. "Just grabbing his keys for him. Jesus Christ, how long has this mug been on his desk? There's an entire colony growing in here."

"Oh." Seb's voice was hoarse, and my chest went all tight at the sound of it. He sounded so… sad. I wanted to make him feel better. "Alright. I… hope he feels better soon."

"I'll pass that on."

I jumped when Holt reappeared, slipping back through the door and closing it behind him. His brows rose meaningfully as he walked toward me and held out my keys. Before I could turn away after taking them, his hand landed on my shoulder and squeezed.

"You should definitely tell him," he whispered. "Trust me."