Chapter 239: Can You explain?

Holly's POV

Tyler started talking, hands never stopping their gentle work.

His thumbs pressed into the arch of my foot in this slow, perfect rhythm, and I swear every knot from those stupid heels just dissolved. I tried…really tried…to keep my face neutral, but a tiny, involuntary sigh slipped out anyway.

He smirked but didn’t call me on it, just kept going like this was the most normal thing in the world.

“Okay, story time,” he said, voice low and easy, like we were old friends swapping secrets over drinks. “Born and raised in a family where the dinner table conversation was ninety percent politics and ten percent passive-aggressive comments about who was dating who for ‘strategic reasons.’”

I snorted into my cocoa. “Sounds fun.”

“Oh, yeah. Pure joy.” He switched feet, drizzling a little more of that heavenly lavender oil. “Dad’s the mayor of the city…think old brick buildings, historic everything, everyone knows your last name before they know you. Mom’s the perfect political wife…chairs every charity gala, smiles for every photo op, terrifies staff with one raised eyebrow. I’ve got two younger sisters…Emilia and Charlotte…who are basically groomed to marry senators or CEOs someday. And then there’s me. The only son. The heir. The one who’s supposed to carry the family torch all the way to Congress, maybe even higher.”

He said it lightly, but I caught the edge underneath…like he’d rehearsed this speech in his head a thousand times, half-joking to keep it from cutting too deep.

“Private schools since kindergarten,” he went on, fingers working slow circles up toward my toes. “Summers at the family compound in Maine…sailing lessons, etiquette coaches, the works. By the time I hit middle school, Dad already had my college major picked out…political science at Yale, naturally, then straight into his office as deputy something-or-other. Law school after that. Then marriage to some rich girl named Penelope or Sharon. The plan was locked in before I even knew what I wanted for breakfast.”

I laughed softly. “Did you ever get to pick anything?”

“Breakfast? Sometimes.” He grinned, but it faded fast. “Look, I’m not complaining about the money or the privilege… I know how lucky I am. But it was rigid, Holly. Like living in a museum where everything’s behind glass. Touch nothing. Smile for the cameras. Date only girls whose families could help Dad’s reelection. Every move should be calculated. Every mistake dissected at Sunday brunch in front of twenty relatives.”

He paused, eyes flicking up to mine, and for the first time I saw something raw there…frustration, exhaustion, maybe even a little hurt.

“I was twenty-five, sitting in a corner office at City Hall, wearing suits that cost more than most people’s rent, pushing paperwork for initiatives I didn’t believe in. Dad kept parading these ‘suitable’ women in front of me…daughters of donors, mostly. Nice enough, but…zero spark. One of them actually asked me on our third date if our kids’ names would ‘poll well’ in future campaigns.”

I choked on my cocoa. “She did not.”

“Swear to God. That was the moment I knew I was done.” He shook his head, chuckling darkly. “I started quietly moving money around…sold some investments, built a nest egg they couldn’t touch. Told them I needed a ‘mental health break’ after a tough campaign cycle. Dad lost it. Called me ungrateful. Said I was throwing away my legacy.”

He shrugged, but his hands never stopped their gentle magic on my foot. He switched back to the first foot, thumbs working a knot that made me bite back a sigh of pure bliss. His eyes met mine, serious but light.

“So I left to feel the wind in my hair, and maybe live like a normal person for once. Blocked half the family group chat. Changed my number. Told them I’d come back when I was ready to live my own life, not theirs.”

“Wow,” I whispered, actually meaning it. “That takes guts.”

“Or insanity.” He flashed that lopsided smile again. “Jury’s still out. But for the first time in my life, nobody’s telling me who to be tomorrow. Nobody’s scheduling my future or dinner. And yeah, maybe I’m hiding out in suburbia playing a fake boyfriend to a gorgeous girl with a vengeance streak…but damn, it feels good to choose something for myself. Even if it’s chaotic.”

My cheeks went hot. “I’m not that vengeful.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You made your boss kneel in a public place, in front of strangers, Holly.”

“Okay, fine. Maybe a little vengeful.” I laughed, and it felt good…light, real. “But he deserved it.”

“No doubt.” Tyler’s hands stilled for a second, his thumbs resting warm against my skin. “Anyway, that’s me. Escaped political prince, currently in witness protection from my own family. I'll be waiting for your turn to tell me your story…when you’re ready.”

“Definitely…some other time,” I whispered. Mine is so complicated and exhausting.

The room went quiet except for the soft crackle of the fireplace. I looked at him…really looked. The sharp jaw, the messy hair, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled like he was letting me in on a secret. And suddenly David felt…far away. Like a chapter I’d been rereading for years, finally ready to turn the page.

I wiggled my toes, now completely blissed out. “You know, for a runaway heir, you give a ridiculously good foot massage.”

He laughed, deep and warm. “Years of mandatory ballroom dance lessons. Strong hands, excellent posture. Comes in handy.”

I rolled my eyes, grinning. “Show-off.”

“Only for you, fake girlfriend.” He winked, then gently set my foot down and tucked the blanket back around me. “Stay as long as you want. Door’s unlocked when you’re ready to sneak home. No pressure.”

I nodded, sipping the last of my cocoa, heart doing this weird, fluttery thing I hadn’t felt in forever.

For the first time in years, I wasn’t thinking about how to make David jealous.

I was just thinking about how much I wanted to hear the next part of Tyler’s story. And if he will end up crawling back to his family.

And also, terrifyingly, thrillingly…I wanted him to keep touching me like I was something precious.  My heart did this stupid flip as that thought crossed my mind.

I wasn't worried about winning David over for once. I was just… here. Curious. Relaxed. Maybe even a little excited about whatever came next from this arrangement.

And that terrified me more than any serial-killer fantasy ever could.

God, what was happening to me?

I woke up with a jolt sometime later, heart pounding like I'd been running in my sleep. For a second, I had no idea where I was…soft couch under me, warm blanket tucked around my body, the faint scent of sandalwood and male cologne in the air. Tyler's living room.

Oh God. How the hell did I doze off?!

I sat up too fast, the blanket slipping down, and that's when I realized…I was half-undressed. My outfit was gone, folded neatly on the coffee table, and I was in just my bra and inner tights. I gasped, hand flying between my legs instinctively. No friction, no soreness, nothing throbbing. Just... normal. I exhaled shakily, dragging a hand through my tangled hair.

Okay. Nothing happened. But when did I doze off? And where the hell was Tyler?

I reached sleepily for my bag on the floor, fumbling for my phone. The screen lit up: 5:03 AM. What the actual hell? I'd only meant to stay a few minutes.

Panic kicked in low and steady. I had to get out before he woke up. I tiptoed around like a burglar in reverse, gathering my stuff as quietly as possible…heels in one hand, dress pulled on haphazardly, jacket slung over my arm. Every creak of the floor made me freeze. He must be upstairs in his bedroom, asleep.

Did he undress me? Tuck me in like some gentleman from a rom-com? The thought sent heat rushing to my cheeks…embarrassment mixed with this weird, fluttery warmth I didn't want to name. God, Holly, get it together.

Hold on…what if he was a total creep and… No Holly, don't think like that. I shook that thought off immediately.

I slipped out the front door without a sound, the cool early-morning air hitting my face as I hurried the short distance across the shared driveway to Kayla's house. My key turned quietly in the lock…thank God…and I crept inside.

The place was dead silent, everyone still asleep. Perfect. I tiptoed down the hall to my room, wincing at every step, and eased the door open. It creaked anyway. I shut my eyes, cringing, then slid inside and closed it behind me.

I leaned back against the door with a huge sigh of relief, flipping on the light.

And nearly screamed.

Kayla was sitting on the edge of my bed, arms crossed, legs crossed, looking exactly like a strict mom waiting up for her teenage daughter who'd snuck out. Her eyes lifted to mine, calm but sharp.

"Kay, I can explain—" I started, voice cracking.

She stood up slowly and walked toward me. I backed up instinctively until my shoulders hit the door. She stopped inches away, face close enough that I could see the worry lines around her eyes.

"You slept at the new neighbor's place?" she asked, voice so calm it was terrifying.

I stuttered, brain scrambling for words that wouldn't make me sound insane. "I—it's not—"

Then it hit me like a slap.