I Really Can’t Stay (A.R.’s Holiday Standalones #1)

Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

W ell, if this isn’t the most awkward thing to happen to me in God knows how long. Sitting at my aunt and uncle’s kitchen table, we all eat in deafening silence. Them, me, Lincoln, and Elizabeth .

Taking another bite of the cinnamon deliciousness my aunt has crafted, I observe Linc and Zee. Watching them closely, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know something isn’t right between them.

I can sense it.

There’s no chemistry. Their actions feel forced, like they are strictly friends, but are pretending to be more for the sake of Linc’s parents.

They have been desperate for him to settle down—they’ve been on me about it, too—is it possible Little Linc has asked a friend to step in and pretend to be his girlfriend?

There’s no damn way.

When everyone’s finished with their breakfast, and the plates have been cleared, Zee heads toward the coatrack and pulls off her jacket, swinging it out so she can slip her arms through the sleeve. It’s obvious she’s about to leave, and I know this is my opportunity.

“Holly, could we talk for a second?” Calling her a fake name feels like acid on my tongue. My heart stops, knowing there’s a very real possibility she’ll say no.

Peering up at me from under her lashes, she agrees. “Sure.”

It feels like my heart can beat again.

Opening the front door, I nod for her to go out in front of me. She looks behind us to see if anyone is watching, then heads outside.

As soon as the door is closed, I take a step closer to her. “What’s with the fake name?”

Lifting her chin, she narrows her eyes. “How do you know it isn’t my real name?”

“Pretty uncommon to introduce yourself as your nickname, then explain your full name, if it’s not real.” I take another step forward.

“Maybe.” She licks her lips, and my eyes drop to her mouth for a moment.

“I don’t buy it,” I counter, regaining my focus. “Holly is just too much of a Holly Jolly name for it to be real. What’s your last name, again?”

“North,” she says without a shred of hesitation.

Barking a laugh, I look at her like she has to be joking, but she just stares at me like a deer in the headlights. “Holly North? That's the best you could come up with? How did my aunt and uncle not see right through it? How did Linc not see right through it?”

Shaking my head, I rub my palms up and down my face in disbelief as more laughter erupts from my chest.

“Did you want something?” Her arms cross in front of her with annoyance. There’s fire in her eyes.

It makes my dick hard. She’s so damn beautiful, and from what I’m gathering, has a streak of humor, too.

“I do , actually.” Taking another step closer, she takes one back, the pull to my push. Her back hits the railing of the porch, and I place my fists against the snow-covered wood, ignoring the cold bite as I cage her in.

Refusing to let her look away, I hold her gaze. “Are you actually dating my cousin?”

A flush creeps up her neck from beneath where the collar of her jacket exposes it, settling against her cheeks. “Ye—yes,” she stammers, but it’s not hard to tell she’s lying to me.

Leaning in, I level my mouth with her ear. “I’m not a fan of liars, Elizabeth.” Then I push myself from the railing, taking a step back to give her space.

There’s a war raging in her brain. I can tell by the various looks that wash over her features, but I wait patiently, letting her figure out what it is she wants to say to me.

It’s amusing, really, and I can’t fight the smile I feel tugging at my lips.

Finally, I watch as frustration settles as the most potent emotion, and she pinches the bridge of her nose. “Okay! I’m not actually dating Lincoln. He asked me to be his date for Christmas Eve because Tina and Tim have been pestering him about settling down.”

“What’s in it for you?” The question springs from my lips, coming out more accusatory than I intended.

“Nothing,” she snaps.

“You’re lying again.”

“God, are you always this irritating?”

“Only on days that end with y.”

She’s pissed, and it’s adorable, especially now that the tip of her nose has turned rosy from the cold.

“There’s nothing in it for me.” She stares down at the ground, her voice a mere whisper in the wind, but I am able to hear her with no problem. My body and mind feel so in tune with this woman, it’s catching me off guard.

I’ve never been a man who believes in love at first sight, or soulmates, but Holly, er, Elizabeth has me rethinking things.

When she looks up at me again, her eyes flick to the front door, then she takes a step forward, closing some of the distance I put between us. Her voice is low when she says, “I lost my family not that long ago, and the idea of spending Christmas alone felt like a knife to the gut. So here I am.”

A knife to the gut. I can understand that feeling, because it’s currently settled in me after hearing her say that. “I’m sorry.” My fingers itch to reach out and touch her, but I don’t. It feels too vulnerable.

I also remind myself she’s a complete stranger.

“I should get on the road. I don't wanna take up anymore of your family's Christmas, and I need to get back to my cat.”

Moving a step around me, she reaches for the doorknob.

“Wait,” I blurt. Reaching up, I rub the back of my neck, looking down at the ground, before meeting her gaze again. “Can I get your phone number?”

Can I get your phone number? Why do I have to sound like I’m a timid eighth grader?

All I know is I can’t let her get away again.

Her brows knit together. “You want my phone number?”

“Yeah, Elizabeth. I do.”

Then she does something I haven’t seen since last night, and it makes the damn fluttering in my gut happen again.

She smiles.