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Unwrapping Holly - A Holiday Reverse Harem Romance Page 2

Jocelyn threw me her most seductive wink. “Then go have fun with him.”

  Three

  HOLLY

  “C’mon, three more reps!”

  I pushed hard, through the pain, feeling the burn in my thighs as the platform above me moved smoothly up and down. I always loved the leg press machine. The sheer amount of weight on each side made you feel like you could put up really big numbers.

  “Two more…”

  Except today, when I was doing it for the first time in months.

  “Another two…”

  “Hey!” I grunted. “You said that last rep!”

  “Yeah, well you half-assed that one,” Donovan barked. “I don’t accept half-reps. If you followed through you’d be done by now.”

  I reached down into my core and pushed, shoving the weights away and finishing out my set. My perfectly-sculpted trainer engaged the locking clamp just as my legs went limp.

  “There you go,” he smirked back at me. “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”

  I gave Donovan my dirtiest playful look. “No. It was absolutely perfect.”

  “Perfection is when I can bounce a quarter off your ass,” he shot back. His look went stern. “But you already know what I’m going to say next, don’t you?”

  “Yeah yeah,” I acknowledged. “It wouldn’t hurt this bad if I came on a regular basis.”

  He nodded as he threw me my towel. “Damn straight.”

  I mopped my forehead as I looked Donovan up and down. As always he was flawless, from his square jaw and handsomely stubbled chin right down to his powerful biceps and rock-hard abs.

  Jesus, did his arms get bigger?

  It was the first time I’d actually seen him since my breakup. The first time I could really drink him in without feeling guilty, as if I were doing something wrong. Our playful banter was something I looked forward to during our sessions. It was cute and funny, and it also kept me in line.

  “Fitness is like a relationship,” he finally winked. “You can’t cheat and expect it to work.”

  In reality I wasn’t cheating. I’d been coming the last few weeks, I’d just been avoiding him.

  “You avoiding me, Holly?” he squinted.

  Shit, it was like he read my mind.

  “No sir.”

  “Then where have you been?”

  “Around.”

  “Not around here,” he said. “At least not while I’m in the gym.”

  “Why?” I flirted playfully. “You been looking for me?”

  Damn. That was bold! It also wasn’t like me at all.

  “I look out for everybody,” he smiled. “But you especially.”

  It felt good, being able to flirt with him like this. To be free of Malcolm, who’d always thought my personal training sessions were a huge waste of money. “Why pay for something you can do yourself?” he’d argued often. “You’re already paying for a gym membership. Do you really need to throw extra money at someone to stand over you?”

  With any other boyfriend, I would’ve chalked it up to jealousy. After all, Donovan was gorgeous. But with Malcolm… not so much. Like always, he was just being cheap.

  “So when did it end?”

  Donovan’s deep, velvety voice brought me back to reality. I stared up him curiously. “Huh?”

  “Your relationship. You broke up with your boyfriend, didn’t you?”

  My confusion was suddenly replaced with astonishment. I was stunned.

  “How do you kno—”

  “Because you didn’t talk about him at all,” Donovan interjected. “Not once, during our entire session. Usually you talk about him a lot, whenever I work you out.”

  “I do?”

  “Yes,” he smiled. “Nothing good, usually. He sounds… well…”

  “Go on,” I smiled. “You can say it.”

  Our eyes locked. My personal trainer hesitated, sizing me up a little before continuing. “He sounds like a cheap, controlling asshole.”

  I laughed as I popped the top off my water bottle. “Bingo.”

  “So you broke up with him?”

  I wish. Suddenly I felt very foolish. As if the other people in my life could see something obvious I was totally missing. Missing for a very long time.

  “Something like that.”

  “So then tell me,” he said. “If you’re single, and you obviously have more time on your hands… why are you avoiding me?”

  I stared back at him, feeling like a deer caught in a pair of steel blue headlights. There was no use lying to him. He’d know immediately, before I even finished constructing the sentence.

  “I— I’m kinda strapped for cash,” I admitted humbly. “I don’t have a car anymore, so I’m saving up for one.”

  His expression softened. I saw a welcome understanding in his eyes, as all judgment went out the window.

  “I can’t afford too many sessions right now,” I said. “So I was thinking of cutting back my sessions. Maybe only coming—”

  “You’re a personal shopper, right?”

  I blinked. It was the last thing I expected him to say.

  “Yes.”

  “Well Christmas is coming,” said Donovan. “And I’ve got a ton of people to buy for. Friends, family, small gifts I usually give to clients…”

  His voice had changed also. It was still beautiful, still wonderfully deep and sexy. But it was smoother now. Much more casual.

  “How about we trade?” he smiled warmly. “Some personal training sessions for some personal shopping?”

  He had the best smile. It brought mine out as well.

  “You’d do that?”

  “I’d actually love to do that!” he said excitedly. “Can’t tell the gym though.” Donovan rolled his beautiful eyes. “It’s against policy, or something equally stupid.”

  “O—Okay,” I stammered.

  All of a sudden my heart was racing. The idea of shopping for this incredible man, of getting to know him on a more personal level… there was something as intimidating as there was appealing about it.

  “Gotta do something to get you in here,” Donovan laughed. “You need an excuse to show up more.”

  I had to stop myself from turning about ten shades of red.

  “Maybe I need a little more incentive?”

  Holy shit! Did you really just say that?

  “Then maybe I should just take you out on Saturday,” he countered smoothly. “How’s that for incentive?”

  For a couple of seconds, time stopped. It was all I could do to keep my mouth from hanging open.

  “I… I work on Saturday.”

  Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

  “Do you work at night?”

  I swallowed hard. “No...”

  “Then I’ll take you out then. Unless you—”

  “No no,” I jumped in. “I, uh… I mean Saturday night is good.”

  Donovan set his hands on hips as I let out a relieved breath. I couldn’t believe how close I’d come to screwing things up.

  “Then it’s settled. Dinner, you and me, Saturday night. We can discuss the terms of our trade, and—”

  “BURKE!”

  We both whirled in the direction of the voice. Behind the front desk, the gym’s owner — a man I knew only as Eddie — was staring daggers at us. Or more specifically, at Donovan.

  “You’ve got an eight O’clock who’s been waiting five minutes already,” the owner growled.

  “Yeah, we’ll she’s ten minutes early,” Donovan shot back.

  Eddie’s return scowl told me everything I needed to know next. Donovan’s shoulders didn’t slump an inch. He remained defiant in the face of the big, red-headed man. They stared at each other for a long moment, neither one of them willing to look away.

  “It’s okay,” I said, pulling Donovan’s attention back to me. “Go. Do your thing.”

  “You’re my thing,” he said. “At least until I’m done with you.”

  I smiled sweetly. “Well, are you done with me?”


  “For now,” he grinned back.

  My stomach felt like a butterfly zoo. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Donovan! Asking me out! And this time there was no doubt about it. This time it was most definitely going to be a date…

  I couldn’t wait to tell Jocelyn.

  “I’ll text you,” he said, before turning away. “But remember: Saturday night, you and me.”

  I nodded mechanically. Like a schoolgirl being talked to by her biggest crush.

  “Okay.”

  “Be hungry,” he ordered. “But for right now? Treadmill. Thirty minutes. And I’d better see sweat when you leave.”

  Damn. I was hoping he’d forgotten.

  “I’ll do my best,” I said. “Been a few weeks though, so I’ll have to go slow.”

  Donovan chuckled as he walked away. “No matter how slow you go, you’re still lapping everybody on the couch.”

  Four

  HOLLY

  It was one of those rare glorious days, where the weather tells the current season to fuck off. In this case the skies were a pristine, cerulean blue. Totally unblemished by clouds, they were full of sunshine and warmth and promise.

  Despite full winter being only days away, the temperatures had somehow climbed into the sixty-degree range. I had my ass firmly parked on a bench in Washington Square Park. Surrounded by sprawling green grass and skeletal trees that, just a few short weeks ago, had been exploding with fiery fall color.

  Little things like that had astonished me the first year I was here. Simple things the locals always took for granted, like golden leaves and thousand-foot skyscrapers. Underground tunnel systems, flinging metal tubes packed wall-to-wall with people in every conceivable direction.

  I had my face buried in the most boring of all possible literature: my CPA prep-book. The NYU campus loomed over my shoulder, a constant reminder that I had no less than three big finals coming up next week.

  But that was okay. It was Friday. And Friday was my day.

  Yes, it was the day I’d chosen to take all my classes. But once the morning was gone, I had the rest of the day all to myself. Friday was when I walked the streets of Manhattan, dipping randomly into shops and coffee houses and bookstores along the way. I went to museums. Saw plays on Broadway. Did anything I wanted, really, once I got my side work done and my studies out of the way.

  Even then, shopping the City was like homework for my second job anyway. It gave me ideas on clever gifts to buy. I kept current on the latest fashions, just as eyeballing the millions of colorful people teeming the streets kept me up to date on the latest trends.

  Most of all I loved the freedom. Malcolm worked late on Fridays — presumably so he could golf all weekend — so while we were dating I didn’t even have to be home at any particular time. School aside, Fridays were my day off from everything. Especially days like today, which I considered a rare, precious gift.

  I flipped the page, trying to keep my focus on more of the mind-numbing jargon. Accounting wasn’t my first choice in life. It wasn’t like every little girl grew up hoping to stick a pencil in her ear and maintain spreadsheets on profit/loss statements.

  No, I’d wanted to do other things of course. Accounting was what happened when I took something I was already good at and added the pressing need to pay an exorbitant rent… even in a rent-controlled building.

  Right now though, I didn’t want to think about any of those things. I just wanted to inhale the crisp, fresh air. Enjoy the feeling of being surrounded by grass and dirt again — if only for a little while — rather than tons of glass and rebar and concrete.

  I’d been on the bench nearly an hour when I saw him looking; the cute guy on the other side of the clearing. He was leaning against a tree, eating an apple. Staring at me… but not creepily. Almost as if he were looking with a certain, permissible familiarity. Which—

  “OOOF!”

  My heart nearly leapt through my chest as the jogger fell sideways against me. He came seemingly from out of nowhere. His body bounced from the bench, his momentum barely slowing as he spun away from me with an apologetic grunt and continued to run.

  “I—”

  Only now he was running away with my bag.

  “HEY!” I yelled. “HEY, STOP!”

  I looked around, but I’d chosen one of the more private areas of the park. The only person nearby was my apple-eating colleague, who I noticed was already sprinting full speed in my direction.

  “HE TOOK MY BAG!”

  The cute guy nodded as he flew past, his dirty-blond hair flowing behind him as he sprinted in the direction of the jogger. He was moving unbelievably fast. Taking long, powerful strides with what looked like long, powerful legs.

  Oh my God!

  A half-eaten apple went spinning to the ground at my feet. I’d never been purse-snatched before! But of course I’d read about it. Hell, I’d seen it in a dozen movies, but none of them compared to the feeling of it actually happening.

  I whirled, looking around helplessly. There was no one else. Only the jogger and his pursuer, who was slowly gaining on him.

  What if he’s armed?

  The thought sent shivers through me.

  What if he has a knife, or a gun, or—

  “UMMPH!”

  At the edge of the clearing, both men were now on the ground. My would-be savior had made a last-minute jump, tackling the jogger around his ankles. It looked painful, the fall. The jogger landed hands first to protect his face, skidding along the cement path with a scream of pain.

  The apple-eating cute guy was crawling his way onto him.

  Don’t just stand there Holly! Go help him!

  My legs moved on their own. I was walking at first, then running over to where the two men wrestled in the grass at the edge of the path. There was a grunt of exertion, then a cry of pain as the thief kicked my would-be hero square in the jaw. He scrambled to his feet and dove into the next wooded area, stopping only once to glance back in my direction.

  I gasped as we made eye contact… and then he was gone.

  Holly, move!

  Impotently I realized I was frozen again. By the time I ran up to help my champion, he was already on his feet.

  “A—Are you okay?”

  The cute guy, now minus the apple, was rubbing his jaw with one hand. In the other, at the end of his outstretched arm…

  “My bag!”

  I took it and hugged it to my body. Then I rushed forward and hugged him.

  “Thank you so much!” I cried. “Oh my God, you saved my life!”

  He laughed. “Well not your actual life,” he replied breathlessly. “But your purse at least.”

  “But my whole life is in here!” I shot back. “Besides, I got paid today. I just cashed my check.”

  He started brushing himself off, and I moved to help him. Leaves and dirt fell away as my hands rubbed his chest, his arms, his back. Every surface I touched was hard with muscle. Every bit of him was in spectacular shape.

  “You really carry cash?” he grinned. “I figured everyone has direct deposit these days, and—”

  Our eyes met. From this distance, I recognized him immediately.

  “I know you!”

  My hero grinned back at me. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  “You’re in my class. My psych class. My—”

  “Statistics for Behavioral Sciences,” he grinned. “Yeah.”

  “That’s why you were looking at me. That’s why you were staring.”

  He laughed out loud. It was one of the better sounds I’d heard in a long time. “Was I really staring?” I watched as his skin flushed red. “Sorry, I— ”

  “No no,” I smiled. “Please don’t be sorry. You’re my hero! You saved me. Saved my stuff.”

  He nodded back to the bench, where my book lay face down on the ground. “If the thief were smart he’d have left your bag alone and grabbed one of our textbooks,” he joked. “They’re like a zillion dollars each anyway.”

&n
bsp; He stuck out his hand. I took it, and he squeezed me firmly but gently.

  “I’m Brody by the way. Brody Valentine.”

  “Valentine?” I smiled. “That’s really your last name.”

  He frowned immediately, but I could tell he was only pretending to be offended. “Why? What’s wrong with—”

  “Nothing,” I said quickly. “Actually it’s kinda cool.”

  Brody guided me off the path protectively as another pair of joggers ran by. Innocent ones, this time.

  “Well,” I said after an awkward pause, “you have to take something.”

  I began rifling through my bag, but he laid his hand over mine.

  “You have to take a reward for—”

  “Are you kidding me?” he said. “A reward? For what? For tackling that asshole?” He grinned boyishly. “Anyone would’ve done that. Although I will say you got lucky. Instead of some slow, heavyweight stranger, you got one who ran cross-country all through high school.”

  I chuckled. Damn, he was even cuter close up.

  “And on top of that we’re not strangers,” he said. “We’re classmates.”

  His sparkling green eyes were almost mesmerizing. They were an incredible emerald color, flecked with the most beautiful streaks of black.

  “T—That’s true,” I stumbled. “But you still have to take something as a reward. Let me at least buy you coffee or—”

  “Wanna reward me?”

  I nodded quickly.

  “Then go out with me tonight.”

  It took a good three seconds for his words to sink in. “Wait, what?”

  “Let me take you out,” he said simply. “Or if you want, you can take me out.” He smirked back at me proudly, and even that was cute. “You did say you wanted to reward me, right?”

  “Yes,” I said hesitantly. “But I, uh… I don’t have a car.”

  “Then I’ll pick you up.”

  I felt a wave of heat. Suddenly it seemed a lot more like ninety degrees than sixty.

  “Unless you have a boyfriend, or—”

  “No,” I said.

  “Or hate devilishly-handsome men with superhuman speed, who—”

  “No,” I giggled. “Nothing like that.”