"No secrets, Holden. Promise me."
After nine years of holding her feelings and affection for Holden inside, Cammie can't seem to keep her hands off him. With new resolve to no longer let high society expectations drive her actions, she says to hell...
AS I'M OPENING the door to my silver Mercedes S-Class Coupe for her, I get a view of the back of her head. Shit. I brought clothes for her, but I didn't think to bring her a hairbrush. Or even offer to find her one in the cabana. Of course, knowing women, if I had done that she would have probably thought I was insulting the way her hair looks. She could have no hair, and I wouldn't care. Another thing I didn't bring or offer her? A toothbrush. Hopefully she would have known I wasn't saying her breath was bad since I've already kissed her senseless.
It would have been easy enough to get her both of those things when I went to Mom's. At first I was going to ask her for some of her clothes for Cammie, but she wasn't home. So, I made my way up the hardwood stairs, each one creaking loudly in the silent house as I headed to Violet's room.
For some reason, though, I ended up walking to my room instead and staring at the Jack and Jill bathroom we shared before sliding down the door. Being there brought back so many memories.
Returning to my ride, I climb into the car, pressing the ignition as my past once again haunts me.
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NINE YEARS AGO
"VI?" I HIT my knuckles against the door to the Jack and Jill bathroom I share with my sister. We're not twins. We're not even Irish twins. Should have been. Mom got pregnant with her pretty much right after I was born, but she was a preemie. Born two months early, which has resulted in her inheriting Dad's towering height like me, but she's always looked too skinny. Violet had a feeding tube for a bit and went through feeding therapies. All kinds of therapies, actually. I don't remember the super early years, obviously, but as we have gotten older, I know it's hard living in her shadow. She can get away with murder. They almost lost her. She's the frail one. I'm the strong one. When they had her, it was almost like I became a has been. A leftover. It's hard being the healthy sibling. "God, Vi." Screw the light knuckle knock. I bang on the door with my fist this time. "What. Are. You. Doing? I just need to brush my teeth."
The door swings open, and I nearly fall through it before it slams in my face. My toothbrush and toothpaste land on my bare foot. "There are other bathrooms. Go use one and leave me alone."
"That's disgusting, Vi. I should make you give me yours since mine just landed on my foot before bouncing off and hitting the freaking floor." I roll my eyes and huff at her laughter.
"You know what would be gross?" she asks through the door. What is she doing in there? "You using my toothbrush, moron," she screams.
"I'd love to stay and chat, but you're making me late. I hate being late." I kick the bathroom door. "Hey, Vi."
"Thought you were done chatting?"
"Have fun walking to school." I chuckle. Five. Four. Three...
The door swings open, and she shoves hers at my chest. "Take it. I'll buy a new one. Give me five minutes."
I can't wipe the smug grin off my face. "Holden, you're the best brother ever." I step a little closer, my body blocking her ability to shut me out this time. "I'm so thankful for your transportation, for letting me spend all freaking morning in the bathroom primping. Please take my pretty pink toothbrush as a small token of my thanks."
