Hold Me Closer: A Rebel Walking Novel (2 page)

Since my brother's death, I've done everything I can to keep his dream alive.  He worked really hard to make sure I had a business that would provide me more than enough income.  The sports bar scene seems to be a popular
hangout—at least it was for him and his friends before he left. 

He
was extremely successful and I'm so proud of him.  Not a day goes by that I don't think about him.  He was the only blood family I had left.  His friends have all taken me in, but it's just not the same as the bond he and I shared. 

Our father was never in the picture and our mother passed away when I was ten years old.  Kayde
had always taken care of me, even when we were living at Granddad’s.  After Mom died, we lived with him.  I can't say he raised us because he didn't.  He put a roof over our heads and gave us a place to come home to at night.  My brother kept me in school and out of trouble during my high school years. 

I was devastated and equally proud when he joined the Marines.  His passion and dedication to the Marines was beyond anything I'd ever seen with
him—you could see it in his face.  He was going to get to live his dream.  He deserved to be happy and I shoved him out the door until he left so he wouldn't see me break down because I know he would've stayed behind for me if he knew how much it broke my heart.

About six months ago, I opened the door
to the worst news I could ever get.  I've had a tough time dealing with his death.  There were weeks that I didn't even leave my house. In the end, Kayde's friend, Gus, pulled me out and reminded me what kind of person Kayde was and what he wanted for me. 

My main regret is not getting to say goodbye, but I try to live the life he set up for me each day and it makes me feel closer to him.  I know it's sad that I'm living each day as
if someone else set it up for me, but it's the only way I could imagine before now. 

Maybe one day I can figure out exactly what my dreams are and have the
courage to do something about them.  Not knowing what I even want to do with my life bothers me.  Do I even have a personality outside of what everyone else has set for me? 

I th
ink it's time to do what I want, right after I figure out what that is.  This date has to be the last time I worry about a guy for a long while.  With that in mind, I set out to make this date extremely memorable.  After all, I may as well have some fun with this since it'll be my last date for a
very
long time.

I decide to search f
or my ugly sweater that I got stuck with from a gag gift from someone at the bar.  It's nice to finally have a purpose for it.  How do you finish up an outfit with such a god-awful start? 

Flipping through
the back of my closet, I find an old skirt.  It's one of those long flowing skirts that have huge flowers printed all over it.  A few of the flowers match the fuzz balls hanging from the sweater. 
This will be perfect.
  At this point, the shoes don't matter.  I may as well be comfortable, so I go with tennis shoes to finish off the outfit made to shrink any man's balls for life. 

My mission to crash this date is going strong.  I wrap my hair into a messy bun and don't even try to pull all of it back up when a few strands fall against my face. 
My glasses are a necessity and I forego any extra makeup.  I'm applying a single layer of base just as my phone vibrates from a message.

Holden:  This is Holden.  Eaven seems to think we should go on a date.

Geez.  He seems just as eager as I do about this date
.  This is going to be a disaster.

Lyndsey:  Yes she does.

Holden:  You good for tonight?

Lyndsey:  I can do 7:30.

Holden:  Where can I pick you up at?

Lyndsey:  I'll meet you there.  Just tell me where.

I wait a while for his response, with no return.  There's no way that I'm letting any other guys know where I live.  I'll just meet him there and get this over with. 

Finishing my makeup doesn't take long and I take one last look in the mirror.  I can't believe I'm going anywhere like this.  This could be my new style if I
never
want to get laid again.  The thought of that almost convinces me to change, but I stay strong with the determination to be as boring as possible.  He hasn't replied and I may have already scared him off with my lack of enthusiasm in our texts.  A ping of guilt hits me just as the doorbell rings.     

Holden

I don't have time for stubborn.  She's already trying to
crimp this date by arriving separately.  Did Eaven not tell her that I would
never
consider letting a date go home without making sure she makes it safely?  Call it an obsessive nature to make sure everything is final before I consider the date over if you want, but that's exactly how it'll have to be.

The text from Eaven with Lyndsey's address rings in, just as I pull out of my driveway.  Her house is only a few miles from mine and the drive over doesn't take long at all.  I take note of the perfect little house with the
overgrown yard and flower bed full of weeds. 
Oh hell.
  That shit would drive me insane.  We are obviously
nothing
alike. 

I check the address in my phone one more time in hopes that I'm at the wrong house.  After a slight
ly disappointed confirmation, I decide to proceed with caution toward the door.  

My attention
is immediately drawn to the lack of security everywhere I look.  Her windows are old and the front door needs replaced.  My urge to overhaul her security has my mind consumed when she opens the door. 

Oh
, damn it.  Her eyes.
  The most fucking gorgeous eyes I've ever seen.  Waiting for her to speak, I just stare, because words are lost on me right now.  She begins to run her hands over her clothes, but I can't pull my eyes from hers. 

"Uh.  Can I help you?"  The awkwardness in the air brings me back to the reality of this blind date. 

"I'm here to pick up Lyndsey."

"I might choke her.  Do I need to ask who told you where I live?"

"Probably not."

"Well, I guess come in.  I'm almost finished." 
She turns to walk away and I finally catch a glimpse of the big ass flowers on the longest skirt I've ever seen.  I don't even know what to think about that outfit.  Her arrogance as she walks away has me intrigued, but that sweater is even worse than the skirt.  Her hair is a mess, but tied up, so I'm not sure if that's how she plans to wear it out.  When she turns so that I can see the front of that sweater, I can't help but smile.  Was I supposed to dress like I shopped at the damn thrift store for this date?  Because that shit is
not
happening.

My curiosity is
piqued as I watch her move through the room.  She begins to move the pile of clothes on the couch as she starts to mumble something about trying to find her purse.  Not sure if I should help her look or stand here and watch the show, I quickly decide the show is worth watching when I see the pile of clothes begin to fall over.  I find it entertaining that someone who's wearing clothes like that has at least four pair of some of the sexiest panties that I've ever seen. 

Her eyes fall to the same spot mine do when a black bra falls to the floor.  She rushes to grab it and stuff it into the pile before she leaves the room again.  She's full of contradictions and it's comical to me.  Her games are obvious and I have full intentions of playing along with her.

Her frustration is now obvious and I don't know if it's because she can't find what she's looking for or if it's because she knows I see her game.  Either way, it's sexy on her.  I fight the urge to move to her and calm her down, but figure it might be a little too early to force that.

"Finally!  Shit!"  She pulls her purse from the
countertop beside the refrigerator, flips off the lights, and walks past me out the front door.  She's halfway down the steps before I stop her.

"Do you plan to lock this door?"

"Oh, yeah.  Just turn the knob and pull it closed."  Everything about that sentence goes right through me and pisses me off.  How can a female in today's society not take better precautions when it comes to their safety?  This will have to be a topic of conversation tonight. 

Chapter
Three

Lyndsey

Seriously?  She did
not
warn me about how sexy this man is.  Trying to stick to my decision about crashing this date is going to be tough, although I'm pretty sure that's already accomplished.  I open my car door and sit in the driver's seat.  The look on his face as he turns to see where I am is full of frustration.  Perfect.  I'll keep this up and it'll be a short night.

"What are you doing?"  He moves in the way of my car door to stop me from closing it.

"I'm getting my seat belt on so I can follow you."  His smile confuses me, but I sit strong with my decision. 

"Well, I was going to see where you wanted to go first, so I thought we could ride together.  I can bring you back here tonight after the date."

"Nah, that's okay.  I'll have some stops to make after we finish, so I'll meet you there."

"Just so you know, I'll be following you until you get back to your house tonight.  I don't consider the date over until you're home safe."  That statement probabl
y should've creeped me out, but it didn't.  I actually think it's sexy as hell.  Eaven told me he is very protective of his people, I just didn't realize that meant everyone he met.  I catch him in my side mirror and watch his nice ass the entire time he walks back to his truck.  It's better when he walks away from me.  Those eyes are ridiculous and confuse the hell out of me.  How am I supposed to have a conversation with him if he looks at me?  Plus, his perfectly trimmed facial hair has my mind going in all sorts of places it shouldn't be traveling.  'Bearded for her pleasure' is just a terrible way to be thinking since I want this date to end quickly. 

Why does he have to drive a truck?  Damn it!
  The sleeves on his shirt look like they're about to rip apart with the tension of his bulging muscles.  Thoughts of running my hands over his biceps and exploring the tattoo running down his arm keeps my attention while he backs out of the driveway and begins to drive away.  I rush to catch up and start to follow him as he passes most of the great restaurants in town.  He continues to drive and I try to process where he might be taking me.  I can't think of very many places to go that are on this side of town.  In fact, there's only one place to eat that's nearby and that's my bar.

My eerie suspicion comes true when he parks facing the building.  I pull my car in beside him and lower my window to tell him this will not work for me.  As soon as I put it in park, he reverses his truck and turns so that he blocks me in.  I watch him shut off the engine and walk around the front of his truck, heading to the door of the bar. 

Glancing down at my attire, my heart begins to beat out of control. 
What the hell was I thinking wearing this crap?
  We're supposed to go somewhere that no one would know me, but this guy brings me right to the place where I can't hide. 

"Hey!
  What are you doing?"  He stops mid-step to turn and look at me. 
Is that a challenging glare he's giving me?
 

"I feel like a beer.  You want one?"

"Uh.  I'd rather not."

"
Well, I
would
, so I'm just going to go in and have one.  I'll have more than one if you don't decide to get in my truck and let me take you on a damn date."  The nerve of this guy gets to me quick.  Who does he think he is?  He doesn't get to force me into the truck with him.  I should be able to have the right to leave a date when I get good and ready.  If I ride with him, I can't just leave if he continues to be an ass. 

He's being impossible.
  How is it that Eaven thought I would ever like his fine ass? 

"I can't go in there, so move your truck!"

"Are you ready to do this my way?"  This is such bullshit.  How is he forcing me without actually
forcing
me?  I know I have to either get in his truck and let him win, stay in this car until he decides to go home, or face my error in attire by trotting my happy ass into that bar for all my customers to see.  There isn't a winning scenario in my eyes.

Not letting him win, I step out of the car
to go in and face this date head on.  This will completely suck, but I guess this is what I get for dressing like a homeless person—luckily, I'm not a
complete
idiot.  The short shorts and tank top that I'm wearing underneath will have to work because I won't be walking in there like this.  Releasing my hair from the tie, I begin to toss things I don't need back into my car.  I lift my sweater over my head and catch a glimpse of him watching me.  Trying not to be a complete slut and work the show, I slide my granny skirt down my legs and kick it onto the seat.  These shorts are usually never seen outside the gym, which is where I planned to wear them tonight after this date.