Chapter 218: The Unhinged Lover Girl

Holly’s POV

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Kayla yelled again, flinging her arms like she was trying to take flight.

“You’ve asked me that question like fifty times already, Kay, and I still stand by my response. I am not kidding you,” I said, thumping my chest with my good arm like I was Tarzan proving a point. "I'm just telling you the truth."

She launched a pillow at my head. I ducked (barely), then zig-zagged around the couch while she chased me like a caffeinated cheetah.

“Kay, stop, I’m still recovering, remember?” I pouted, clutching my ribs dramatically.

“Exactly! You’re still recovering. You were supposed to go and give him a piece of your mind before quitting. But here you are, telling me this sob story about a second chance and a happy ever after with David? Really?”

“Really,” I replied playfully.

She groaned so loud the neighbors probably heard. “Where are your balls, Hols? What happened to the motivational speech you gave yourself at the hospital?”

“I don’t have balls, Kay,” I said, dead serious. “And motivational speech? Please. The only thing that motivates me is… well, you know, David.”

She grabbed Caden’s plastic dinosaur off the coffee table and chucked it. Direct hit…right on my casted arm.

“Ow! Kayla, that actually hurt!”

“Good! Maybe it’ll knock some sense into that horny skull of yours!” She planted her hands on her hips. “What happened to the badass who grew a pair overnight and swore she was leaving the fantasies about David forever? What happened to the self respect you talked about?”

I threw my hands up with the smuggest grin known to mankind. “Poof. Gone. One look at him in that office and my vagina filed for bankruptcy on common sense.”

Kayla’s jaw dropped so fast I heard it click. “Holly!”

“What? I went in there to quit like we planned…hair flipped, speech rehearsed, suitcase metaphorically in hand…and then boom. There he was. Looking like a sad, sexy lumberjack who hadn’t slept in days. Rolled-up sleeves, stubble, eyes doing that whole ‘I’m a tortured billionaire who secretly wants to cry on your boobs’ thing.”

I acted it out, dropping to my knees dramatically. “He pulled me into that room and basically begged, ‘Please, Holly, be my woman. I’ll worship your hips and waist. I’ll buy you a pony. I’ll name the pony David Junior.’”

Kayla stared like I’d grown a second head and rolled her eyes. “He did not say any of that.”

“Okay, fine, he didn’t say the pony part or the be my woman part, but he did the whole trembling, cracked-voice ‘stay, let me fix it’ routine. And you’re always preaching forgiveness, Miss Sunday School!”

“Forgiveness, yes! Not climbing back on the dick that almost killed you!” She was pacing now, hands flailing. “You almost died, Holly! What if the car had exploded while you were inside? What was I supposed to tell Ava? ‘Sorry, Ava, Holly went full dumbass for a guy and now she’s barbecue’?”

“But I didn’t die…right?” I sang, twirling a lock of hair around my finger. “And now he wants to be my big brother.”

Kayla stopped dead. “Big brother?”

“Yup.” I wiggled my eyebrows. “He said, and I quote, ‘Let me be the big brother I’m supposed to be.’ Translation…he wants to tuck me in at night, but with his penis.”

She slapped her own forehead. “You’re unbelievable. You’re so stupid, Holly. He told you that he wants to be your big brother, and you automatically translated it to mean that he wants to fuck you?”

I flopped onto the couch, grinning like an idiot. “Come on, Kay, you’re being too serious. I’m just gonna have a little fun with my big brother. If he ever truly breaks my heart…and I mean shatter-it-into-a-million-pieces, not the sexy ‘fuck me till I forget my name’ kind… I swear I’ll leave. I’ll join a convent. I’ll let the nuns exorcise the David out of me. Pinky promise.”

I held up my pinky like we were eight years old again.

She stared at it, then at me, then shook her head so hard I worried for her neck. “You’re a lost cause, Holly. A horny, hopeless lost cause.”

I patted her back like she was the one who needed consoling. “I know, babe. Life’s weird. One minute you’re packing for L.A., the next you’re planning your wedding colors because the guy who called you a whore now looks at you like you hung the moon.”

“What the hell are you even talking about, you absolute gremlin? You sound like you’re saying something smart, but we both know you’re dumb,” She said, shoving me playfully, and I cackled.

“Don’t worry, Kay. I’ve got this under control. Just start practicing your maid-of-honor speech. Something tasteful. Maybe include the phrase ‘against my better judgment.’”

Kayla snorted so hard I think she pulled a muscle. “Oh yeah, sure. I’ll be standing there in my gorgeous dress, holding your bouquet, watching the groom’s side of the church stay completely empty because David decided not to show up. I’ll just smile sweetly into the microphone and go, ‘Hey everyone, quick update… Holly’s fiancé is not gonna show up, because he’s not even aware that he’s supposed to be married today to this delusional woman. Please enjoy the open bar while she processes the fact that she’s sick in the head and needs actual therapy.”

I didn’t even blink. Just looked her dead in the eye and said, “Cool. As long as the open bar has top-shelf tequila, I’ll still count it as a win. I’ll just marry the bartender. Problem solved.”

Kayla wheezed, actually wheezed, clutching her stomach like I’d shot her. “You’re unhinged. Certifiably unhinged.”

“Runs in the family,” I chirped, blowing her a kiss.

She laughed again…short, sharp, and totally unwilling…before her face went weirdly serious. She stiffened like someone jammed a pole up her spine.

“Uhm… Hols… there’s something you need to know.”