“You don’t,” Holt said. “You don’t love her at all.”
“I know.” He lowered his hands and stared at Holt. His hazel eyes pierced through him, reminding him of Lydia. “But, honestly, I don’t think it’s possible to love someone who hates my mother. If they can’t get along, then every fucking holiday will be forever ruined.”
“There is that,” Holt said. He’d never liked Heather. She’d always been standoffish to him. “I’m sorry, man.”
“It’s fine. I’ll be fine.” Steven shoved his hands in his pockets. “But now I don’t have anyone to bring to that dinner tonight.”
“I—” He swallowed hard, the words not coming out right. “Shit, I forgot about that. I’m not even going.”
“Is that an option?” Steven asked.
“It is for an IT guy.” Holt shrugged and rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know about you, though.”
“Oh. In that case.” Steven grinned. “Want to be my date, man?”
“Hell, no,” Holt said, shaking his head for emphasis. The last thing he wanted to do with a migraine coming was socialize with his boss and coworkers. He’d end up coming across as an idiot. “I got out of it, so I’ll be damned if I agree to go now. Not even for you.”
“Fucker.”
“Yep.” He leaned back in his chair. “What about Lauren?”
Lauren was Steven’s other best friend, who Holt was ninety-nine percent sure was actually his soul mate…if those even existed. They’d never gone there, but it was a ticking time bomb waiting to explode, in Holt’s opinion.
They were both just too stubborn to admit it.
“Already tried her.” Steven shook his head. “She’s got dinner with her latest boyfriend…so that leaves you.”
“Ah.” Holt shrugged. “Sorry man. Not interested.”
“Whatever. Be a dick. I’m out of here. I have to go out to the Branson mansion to watch the old man golf.” He dragged his hands down his face. “I’d rather stare at a code all day like you.”
“Yeah, well, not everyone can be as awesome as me.”
Steven snorted. “If that’s what you want to call it. Myself, I’d say ‘dorky,’ not awesome.”
“You can’t insult me today.” Holt cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders. “It’s just not possible.”
“Why not?” Steven stared at Holt, his hazel eyes latched onto him. “What did you do last night that has you in such a cheery mood? Let me guess. You had another meaningless fuck with some faceless woman who fell for the whole tortured nerdy thing you have going on?”
He cocked a brow. “Tortured nerdy thing? I don’t—”
“Yeah, you do. And you make it work.” Steven crossed his arms. “Spill it. What did you do last night?”
“Nothing much. Just went to the bar with Gordon, then met someone.” He shuffled through the papers on his desk, taking his time to carefully form the thoughts in his head. “And for some reason, I can’t stop thinking about her.”
Steven sat down. “Seriously? She’s actually still on your mind
the next morning?”
Holt didn’t want to give away too much, since he didn’t really know why she was different from the others either, so he shrugged and set the papers back down in the same exact order as before. “What can I say? She was pretty fucking amazing in bed, man.”
“Apparently.” Steven leaned his elbows on his knees. “Tell me about this paragon of a woman who has you smiling like a fool.”
Smiling? Holt froze. He hadn’t even realized he’d been smiling. He pushed his glasses up into place and shifted his position. “She’s got strawberry blonde hair, and does this thing with her tongue and fingers that made me—”
Steven held up a hand. “You know what? Never mind.”
“Pussy,” Holt teased.