Holly’s Grizzly (Monster Relations Bureau #4)

17

Holly

I was right.

Irving’s hugs are the softest, warmest, best hugs in the world.

Not that it changes a damn thing as he holds me in the cabin's silence and doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask anything, just runs his hands up and down my arms, my back, my hair. Soft, gentle touches that feel like goodbye.

When he finally speaks, it’s in his oh-so-Irving way of making sure I’m taken care of.

“Do you… do you need to clean up before you leave? Take a shower, or—”

“No,” I interrupt, shaking my head. “No. I’m fine.”

It’s a long drive back to Seattle, but I can’t bear the idea of washing away his scent on my skin before I go.

“Are you hungry? I could—”

“No,” I say again, softer this time. “I’m… I’m alright.”

A long moment of silence passes between us. Another moment where I could say something, where he could say something.

But whether because we’re both too afraid to find the words, or because we’re both well-aware of what those words would be, we don’t.

“Sit with me?” Irving asks, a murmur against the top of my head.

I nod, and he takes me by the hand and leads me over to the couch. He sits first and then pulls me into his lap, settling me against him with a low, contented rumble that draws a sharp sting of tears to the backs of my eyes.

“Can I see your phone?”

I pull it from my pocket to hand it over, then watch as he enters his own name and number into my contacts before giving it back to me.

“If you run into any trouble on the road, you can call me and I’ll find some way to get to you and help.”

I nod, and he lets out another low rumble of approval.

Irving presses a kiss to my forehead before tucking me into his chest, one big hand cradled around the back of my head and the other moving in soothing strokes up and down my back.

“Vic will get you back safely to your car,” he says, voice low and gruff. “I trust him completely, and I know he’ll be careful with you.”

“Okay.” I try to ignore the waver in my voice, the way it cracks slightly on the second syllable.

I nestle into him, and we stay just like that for a few long minutes, or maybe hours, with the way time warps and compresses. I breathe in his scent and bask in the warmth of him, desperate to make each second last a lifetime.

A few of those lifetimes later, the crunch of gravel under tires snaps us both to attention, and the unmistakable flash of headlights through the windows sends my stomach plummeting to my feet.

Vic is back, and time is up.

Rising slowly from Irving’s lap, I find myself frozen as soon as I get on my feet. Irving is, too, and the only part of him that doesn’t seem to be made of stone is the burning intensity of his gaze as he peers down at me.

For one breathless second, I think he’ll ask me to stay.

Would I say yes?

It would be insane to say yes.

We’ve known each other for all of four days. This isn’t… real. It can’t be real.

I don’t know if I can even trust my own judgment here.

I spend a few days with a guy who’s nice to me and incredibly good in bed, and now I’m… what? Head over heels for him? As broken as I might be when it comes to relationships, I should have a little more skepticism than that.

Only…

Even at my most jaded, I can’t make myself believe that’s all this is.

Irving isn’t just nice, he’s one of the most naturally kind, caring, thoughtful people I’ve ever met.

And good in bed might just be the biggest understatement known to man.

But I can’t make sense of it.

My nervous system feels entirely overwhelmed, my thoughts are fried, I can’t trust my own wobbly instincts, and Irving still hasn’t said anything.

But Vic is waiting, and the seconds are still slipping by faster than I can process.

Desperately, I reach for any last excuse to stall.

“Can I see yours? Your phone?”

Irving nods silently and grabs it from the end table. I give him my number just like he gave me his, handing it back with a small, shaky smile.

“There. Now you can call me, too.”

He nods again, something unsettled and unreadable in his eyes. My chest swells with hope, with one last wild, desperate moment of belief he’ll be brave enough for us both.

But in the end, Irving doesn’t ask, and I don’t say anything, either. I just do my best to keep that smile on my face as I press one last kiss to his lips.

It’s meant to be gentle, a goodbye, but a moment after our lips meet, he lets out a low growl and tangles a hand into my hair, gripping hard. I gasp, and he deepens the kiss. His other hand finds my lower back and he crushes me against him, keeping me held firmly in place.

Outside, Vic taps on his horn, and I pull away from the kiss with panic and denial and sadness and a million other emotions welling up in my throat.

“I should go,” I whisper, not knowing what else to say and not quite able to make my feet start moving toward the door.

Irving nods, slow and reluctant. “You’ll drive safe? You’ll be careful on your way home?”

“Yeah. I will.”

Another pause, seconds ticking by, and Irving strokes one last gentle touch against my cheek.

“Goodbye, Holly.”

“Bye,” I whisper, and then I’m finally moving.

Out the front door, across the wet, muddy gravel on the driveway, to the passenger door of Vic’s truck. I open the door and climb in, and only then do I look back.

Irving stands in the open doorway, backlit by the warm light from inside the cabin.

He stays there as the truck pulls away. He doesn’t move an inch as we reach the end of the drive, as the cabin disappears into thick pines at the bend in the road, never taking his eyes off me.