Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Lala

At the end of my first week in New York, my new admin, Tia, and I were eating our lunch outside of the Department of Health headquarters where I’d be conducting my research for the next few months. I’d just filled her in on my current rent-free living situation.

“I can’t believe they’re letting you stay for free. That’s so nice of them.”

“Yeah. These guys are like brothers to me.” Well, except for one. Holden was more like a wicked, hot stepbrother, perhaps. But there was nothing brotherly about the way my body reacted to that man.

“So…like brothers, but three of them are single?”

I cleared my throat. “Yup.”

“You’ve never hooked up with any of them?”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’m engaged.” She knew about Warren, so I wasn’t sure why she’d asked me that question.

“I know, but I mean in the past?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

“Are any of them good-looking?”

“They’re all great-looking, actually.”

“Really…” She wiped some mayo off the side of her mouth. “Well, I should come by and, you know, meet you for a drink there some weekend.” She winked.

I smiled back, but as a breeze blew my curls around, I hated where my thoughts had gone. I wouldn’t mind introducing Tia to Brayden or Owen, but I wanted to gatekeep Holden. And that was ridiculous. Holden Catalano could not be gatekept. Holden freaking belonged to the world; he was with a different woman every week, for heaven’s sake.

The afternoon flew by after lunch. Thank goodness it was Friday because my first week on the new project had been pretty grueling. After some early confusion about which space the Department of Health would be providing me to conduct my work, I was finally able to settle into a corner of the building. And I’d been promised more than one admin, but so far it was just Tia. So things were off to a slow start.

I got home from work that afternoon around 4 PM. I couldn’t wait to kick my feet up and pour myself a glass of wine to start the weekend. Or maybe I’d crack open a pint of ice cream and do dessert before dinner. Who was I kidding? Wine and ice cream before sushi takeout sounded perfect.

But after I took a shower, my plan to have a relaxing early evening was thwarted by a beeping sound coming from somewhere in the apartment. I walked around until I figured out it was coming from a detector in the ceiling in the hallway. I dragged a chair over to check it out, but there was nothing to press to stop it. The battery probably needed to be changed, but I didn’t have a screwdriver to get inside.

I really didn’t want to have to bother Holden. Somehow, I’d managed to avoid contacting him for anything all week. It surprised me that I hadn’t run into him by chance, since he was right next door, or that he hadn’t stopped by. After our conversation out on the fire escape—when we’d both admitted our past attraction to each other—I didn’t want to reach out to him for no good reason. And maybe he felt the same. Almost every encounter with him left me feeling guilty, even if nothing ever happened. It was all guilt over my thoughts, which I seemed incapable of controlling.

After almost an hour of putting up with the beeping sound, I caved and picked up the phone.

Holden answered on the third ring. “Lala Ellison…wassup?”

“Hey.”

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he said. “How did your first week go?”

I let out a deep breath. “It was rough, actually. Some stuff hasn’t gone according to plan. But things will hopefully be better next week.”

“Damn. Okay. Well, TGIF then.”

“Yeah. Seriously. I was hoping to chill tonight, but there’s a beeping sound coming from one of the detectors that’s driving me bonkers. I can’t open it without a screwdriver, which I don’t have. I was hoping you—”

“Ah. So this call wasn’t just to say hello,” he teased.

That made me feel kind of bad. “Not exactly.”

“Handyman Holden to the rescue.” He laughed. “I’ll be over in five.”

It was more like three minutes that passed before he knocked rhythmically on the door.

Goose bumps peppered my skin as I opened. “I’m surprised you didn’t use your key.”

I knew Holden had a master key to every apartment in this place.

“You want me to come in here without knocking? That could be arranged, but I figured I’d be respectful.”

“Yeah. On second thought, knocks are appreciated.”

“Figured.” He winked. “Except on your bedroom wall at one in the morning, right?”

I shook my head. Holden wore a gray beanie over his shaggy brown hair. I’d always loved that look on him—a little too much, perhaps.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“There it is!” I looked around. “Isn’t that annoying?”

“I didn’t hear it,” Holden said stone-faced.

“No?”

He shook his head.

Then it happened again. Beep. Beep. Beep. The chirps seemed to be coming closer together.

I lifted my pointer finger. “You heard that, right?”

Holden chuckled. “Really? I didn’t hear anything.”

I scratched my head.

He burst out in laughter. “I’m just screwing with you. The battery needs to be replaced.”

I smacked his arm. “Thanks a lot. You had me thinking I was losing my mind.”

“You losing that brilliant mind of yours, Lala, would be a massive blow to the world.” He turned back toward the door. “I’ll be right back. Gonna go grab a battery from the supply closet.”

Holden returned soon after with a nine-volt. His abs peeked out as he reached up to the carbon monoxide detector and replaced it. I caught a glimpse of a tat that was particularly low on his abdomen, but I couldn’t make it out. Something told me many women had gotten an up-close-and-personal look at that one when they were down on their knees. I cringed.

The detector beeped loudly as he tested it. “Working great now. You won’t be getting that warning sound anymore.”

“Thank you.”

Our eyes locked for a moment. “So, you said your week was crazy. What happened?”

“Well…” I sighed. “I was supposed to be assigned more than one admin. And for now, it’s just one. This girl named Tia.”

“What’s wrong with her?” He leaned against the counter.

“Nothing, aside from the fact that she doesn’t have a clone. Things are just moving more slowly than I’d hoped. I need help setting up a database, going over the medical files for potential study participants, and setting up interviews and such. Because it’s just her and me right now, I’ve been bogged down with the admin work instead of getting the live study started.”

He nodded. “It must be frustrating to not get the ball rolling.”

“It is, because I’m very eager.”

Holden tilted his head and smiled. “You truly love what you do, don’t you?”

I shrugged. “What can I say? There’s no greater thrill than discovery—contributing to our growth as humans by tapping into knowledge that hasn’t been realized before.”

“Damn. I’ve been tapping the wrong things.” He grinned mischievously.

I arched my brow. “Drumsticks and women?”

He laughed. “That’s something I’ve always admired about you, Lala. Your quest for knowledge. It’s like you can’t get enough.” He sighed. “Most days I feel like a cat chasing his tail. Same old shit. Different day. Nothing new.”

“Well, we’re not all the same. I couldn’t put two beats together with your drumsticks. We’re meant to have different talents and purposes in life. Maybe mine is to research and yours is to entertain.”

“Well, this morning my purpose was to eat Hot Cheetos and patch up what I’m pretty sure was a glory hole in one of the apartments a tenant just vacated.”

I laughed. “Someone’s gotta do it.”

“I guess.”

A moment of silence passed. “You must have had a busy week yourself.”

“Not too bad. Why do you say that?”

“Well, I didn’t see or hear from you. Not that I expected to, but…” Uh,I shouldn’t have said anything.

“I figured you saw enough of me when you moved in. I was trying to give you some space. I don’t want you to feel like I don’t think you’re a big girl who can handle herself in the City.”

“Oh, that’s interesting. I never would’ve thought you were specifically giving me space.”

“What did you think?”

“Like I said, that you were busy.”

“Busy doing what?”

I shrugged. “Busy doing…what Holden does?”

“Busy messing around with random women when I’m not being Mr. Fix It? Is that what you mean to say?” He cocked a brow.

“I didn’t say that. You did.”

“Well, I’ll have you know, there were no hookups this week.”

“None this week—quite the dry spell,” I teased.

“Even though you’re mocking me, it actually is.” He sniffed.

“I’m sure that will change tonight.”

“Why tonight?”

“It’s Friday. You must have big plans.”

He ran his tongue along his bottom lip. “Actually, I have a gig in Connecticut.”

My eyes widened. “Oh wow. Really?”

“Yeah, it’s at this club in Danbury. We’re opening for another band.” His eyes met mine. “You should come.”

My stomach did a little flip. The thought of going to see him perform excited me, but it also made me nervous, and I wasn’t quite sure why.

“You look like I just asked you to go to a goddamn funeral.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to go.” Translation: I have a fiancé back in Philadelphia and going out with you at night feels dangerous. “I just don’t know if I should. I have to organize all of my stuff that we unpacked.” God, that was the lamest excuse imaginable.

“Oh yeah,” he mocked. “Cuz all that stuff won’t be here tomorrow.” Holden’s smile faded. “I’m just messing with you. It’s not a big deal if you’re not in the mood. I just figured I’d ask.” Disappointment crossed his face.

Had I insulted him? I hadn’t meant to. Gosh, I really wanted to go. I just felt…guilty? Nervous? Out of my element? I couldn’t put my finger on it. But I did want to see him play. Screw it. “You know what? Sure. That would be awesome.” I exhaled. “But how would I get there?”

“There’s a car picking me up at eight before we scoop up one or two of the guys. There should be plenty of room. If there isn’t, I’ll make room.”

My pulse sped up. “Okay…I should start getting ready then. What’s the dress code there?”

“The dress code is wear whatever the fuck you want. Ripped jeans, a hat, and a clean, black T-shirt for me.”

Holden could wear a paper bag and still look hot. “A lot of help you are,” I told him.

“There’s no dress code, as far as I know. But feel free to wear something sexy so I can rip some guy’s head off later for messing with you. I’m kind of in the mood to fight. It’s been a while.”

A chill ran through me as I remembered again what Holden had admitted during our talk out on the fire escape. But I was foolish for looking at it as some kind of special compliment unique to me. He likely told a lot of women they were pretty on a regular basis.

Holden went back to his place and left me alone to get ready. I opted for a short, black skirt and a vintage, off-the-shoulder Blondie T-shirt. Debbie Harry’s face was deliberately weathered on the front. Leather booties finished the look. I sort of felt like I was channeling the 1980s. Given that it was drizzly out, I didn’t bother trying to tame my wild blond curls too much. My hair might start out looking like Carrie Bradshaw’s from Sex and the City, but I’d end up looking like I’d stuck something in an electrical socket by the end of the night.

Holden knocked on my door at a few minutes before eight. He looked me up and down when I answered. “Damn. Funky look, Blondie. I like it.”

“Thanks. Not sure my hair will hold up in this weather, though.”

“No offense, Lala, but when has it ever held up? It’s wild as fuck. Your hair is like a whole vibe.”

“It has a personality of its own, and it’s pretty good at predicting the weather, too.” I laughed.

He smirked. “Remember when you had to cut it, though?”

I gave him a sharp look. How dare he bring that up? “Yeah. How could I forget? You and Ryan had a contest to see who could stuff the most gum into your mouth. I planted my butt down to watch Jon & Kate Plus 8 in the living room, and when I tried to get up for a snack, my hair was stuck in a wad of gum Ryan had stuck temporarily to the back of my chair.” I shook my head. “Five inches gone with my mom’s kitchen scissors after we tried to remove it to no avail.”

Holden snorted. “You were so fucking pissed. I think that might have been the first time I ever saw you lose it on Ryan.”

I looked away, feeling my eyes well up unexpectedly. Grief was weird. I could go six months without shedding a tear over my brother, and then one pesky memory about gum pulls the trigger in a matter of seconds.

Holden’s expression fell. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“No. Not your fault. It comes in waves, you know?” I sniffled.

“I do, Lala,” he murmured. “I do.”

“Let’s go.” I wiped my eyes and hurried to the door.

The mood was quiet as we took the elevator downstairs and walked out to where a black SUV waited.

A man was already in the backseat. Even though it was an SUV, it was a tight squeeze in the rear. And we apparently had to pick up one other band member, too.

Holden introduced me right away. “This is Monroe, our lead singer.”

“Nice to meet you,” Monroe said as he offered his hand, which was adorned with silver rings and finger tats. He had longish black hair and a neck tattoo.

“Before you say something fucking dumb,” Holden interjected. “This is Lala.”

“Oh.” Monroe smiled. “Your friend’s sister. I’m glad you told me.”

“Watch your fucking mouth and keep your hands off her,” Holden warned.

Monroe looked unfazed. “You’re engaged, right?”

“I am.”

“Lucky guy.”

Holden shot daggers at Monroe but didn’t say anything.

As we drove the streets of New York toward the highway, it was a bumpy ride with lots of stop and go. My knee kept bumping into Holden’s, and his scent was all I could smell. It frustrated me that I felt so much sitting close to him. Aside from our dance at Colby’s wedding and the occasional fleeting and friendly hug, I couldn’t say I’d ever been pressed against Holden like this for any length of time. It’s one thing to control your thoughts, but how does one control their body’s reaction to someone they’re attracted to? I guess the answer is…you can’t. You just deal with it and pretend like it’s not happening.

We must have gotten to the venue in Danbury just in the nick of time because Holden apologized for having to rush off. The guys barely had five minutes to spare before they were on stage. The air was thick, saturated with the smell of alcohol and various colognes and perfumes. I’d just situated myself in a corner when the band, After Friday, started to play.

Nothing compared to seeing Holden in his element. It filled me with adrenaline—the speed at which he maneuvered those sticks, the intensity of his focus, the way he’d toss the sticks in the air occasionally and catch them. Monroe had a really smooth voice, too, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of Holden.

When the performance finished, several women went up to them. Their approach seemed very methodical. It gave me the impression that they’d been waiting in the wings, and perhaps they were regular groupies. One in particular, with long, straight brown hair, was hanging all over Holden before he’d even had a chance to exit the stage. I wondered if I’d have to sit next to her on the way home—or if I’d be riding home alone while Holden went back to her place.

Before I could ponder it much more, my phone buzzed.

My heart sank when I saw it was Warren calling, but I pressed the button to answer. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“What are you up to?” I said, holding my opposite ear closed to hear better.

“You sound like you’re in a bar.”

I hesitated. I couldn’t lie to him, as much as I didn’t want to admit who I was with. “Holden’s band had a gig. So I went to see the show at a club in Connecticut.”

He hesitated. “Ah. I see. Any good?”

“Yeah.” I breathed out. “It was really good, actually. Well, except that I’m by myself at the moment since I don’t know anyone here. Holden’s still with the band.”

“Lala! What are you drinking?” he suddenly yelled from behind me, making me jump.

I held my finger up, asking him to hold on. But instead of shutting up, he said, “A finger of whiskey? Is that what you want?”

“Who’s that?” Warren asked.

“That’s Holden. He just came over to get my drink order.”

“Well, make sure you know where your drinks are coming from, please. Don’t leave anything unattended. The last thing I need is for you to be roofied out there.”

I knew he’d be concerned, but jeez. “That’s sort of an odd thing to say… But of course, I’ll be vigilant.”

“Just…be careful, okay?”

I felt bad that my being here made him anxious. I couldn’t say I blamed him. I wouldn’t have been thrilled to find out he was at some bar with a bunch of female musicians. Actually, the thought of Warren in his glasses and cardigan in that scenario made me chuckle. He was such a good guy, but this definitely wasn’t his scene—any more than it was mine, actually.

“Okay.” He sighed. “Have fun.”

“Thanks. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“Alright. Goodnight.” He paused. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Beads of sweat formed on my forehead after I hung up. I looked around and found Holden beaming as he walked toward me, lifting two drinks.

He spoke into my ear. “I figured you didn’t really want a finger of whiskey, so I got you a vodka cranberry. I remember you ordering one at Colby’s wedding.”

The warm heat of his breath in my ear made me tingle. It was messed up how one small bit of contact could make my body feel like it was on fire.

“Very observant,” I said as I took the drink.

“I take it that was Warren on the phone? You looked a little flustered.”

“Yeah. I didn’t want him to think…” I hesitated.

Holden finished my sentence. “That you were having fun?”

“I guess I just felt guilty…for having fun here without him, yeah.”

“Well, I give you credit.” He took a sip of his drink. “It can’t be easy doing the long-distance thing.”

I changed the subject. “Anyway, you guys rocked it out there.”

“Thank you. I felt good about it.” He grinned proudly. “And it was cool to be able to play for you.”

For me.“Ryan used to love to watch you play, too.”

He nodded. “I feel his spirit with me a lot when I’m performing.”

The same brunette who had rushed over to him after the performance appeared. “Hey! There you are,” she said before turning to me. “Who’s this?”

“This is Lala, my best friend’s little sister.”

“Oh…” She stared down at Debbie Harry. “That’s cute.”

Holden laughed, somehow knowing that the girl’s use of cute annoyed me. “Lala, this is Carmen.”

I nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too.”

She turned to Holden. “You wanna come back to my place tonight? It’s closer to here than yours.”

Yep. Just as I thought.

“I can’t, actually,” he answered. “I’m going back with Lala to make sure she gets home safely.”

Carmen frowned, obviously pissed that Debbie Harry and I were cockblocking her this evening.

She disappeared not long after that, and I celebrated by downing a long gulp of my drink.

Then things got a little hazy. Holden kept going back to the bar to get me vodka cranberries. At one point, the room started to spin.

The next thing I knew, I was back in the car with Holden, Monroe, and the guitar player, Kevin. Once again, my leg was pressed against Holden’s. Except this time, my drunken state amplified the arousal. My nipples were hard, the traitorous bitches. And my inebriated mind was going to places it had no right to, imagining what it might be like to beHolden’s groupie for one night—what that experience back at his apartment would be like for her. The muscles between my legs tightened as I anticipated getting home and relieving myself under the hot shower.

Holden seemed buzzed but not impaired like me. When he reached over and spoke into my ear, my internal alarm bells went off. “You might be getting tired, but I don’t think your hair is ready to stop partying.”

“That’s called frizz.”

“Don’t ever straighten it.”

“I don’t have the patience anyway.” I hiccupped.

For some reason, the guys decided to start ranking on Holden, making him the butt of their jokes for the latter half of the ride home. Holden explained that they loved throwing “drummer jokes” at him, and this was a regular tradition after a show.

“What do you call a drummer without a girlfriend?” Kevin asked.

“Homeless,” Monroe chimed in.

They laughed as Holden rolled his eyes.

“What do you call a drummer with brains?” Kevin paused and smiled over at me. “A guitar player.”

“I got another one!” Monroe yelled. “What do a drum solo and a sneeze have in common?”

“What?” Holden rolled his eyes again.

“You know it’s coming, but you can’t stop it, even if you want to!”

Kevin high-fived him. “Good one.”

I decided to give them some of their own medicine. “What do you call a singer and a guitar player who like to make dumb jokes about drummers?”

“What?” they asked in unison.

“Jealous because all the girls seem to want to fuck the drummer.” I hiccupped and looked over at Holden. “Must be doing something right.”

They fell silent.

I wouldn’t have said that if I was sober, but it gave me pleasure to shut Kevin and Monroe up, as did the smug smile on Holden’s face.