Dare Me(54)

“Who’s we?” My eyebrows shoot up.

“You and me, Saige. It’s just dinner, nothing serious, so don’t read into it.” His tone tells me he’s annoyed.

“I wasn’t,” I lie. I mean, shit, sleeping with your boss on the first night . . . that’s fast. Meeting his parents a couple of weeks later . . . that’s warp speed. I try to picture meeting her, but I instantly begin to get anxious and try to think of an excuse as to why I can’t go.

Pushing off the bed, I blurt out, “I mean, I’m pretty tired; maybe you should just go. Plus, she hasn’t seen you in ages. She’s not going to want to spend her time worrying about including me in conversation.”

“Saige.” He walks over to me, placing his hands on my upper arms. “She wants to meet you.”

“I don’t have anything to wear. I only packed casual clothes.” I play nervously with the small diamond that dangles from a chain around my neck.

He rubs his thumbs softly on my skin. “Well, it’s a good thing we’re eating at her house. Nothing fancy required.” He’s making it difficult for me to get out of this, I think to myself.

“I have a headache. I had a really brutal day shopping.” I nod toward the closet and close my eyes to show my exhaustion. When he doesn’t respond, I finally crack an eye, catching him watching me. He sees right through my bullshit.

He rolls his eyes. “Yes, Barney’s can be so tiring. Personal shoppers running around while you wait for them to return is now classified as a high-intensity cardio workout.” He smirks at me. He can be such an ass, but I can’t help but chuckle. Clearly, he’s a seasoned Barney’s shopper.

“Holt—” I’m about to whip out another lame excuse when he interrupts me.

Exasperated, he finally snaps. “Saige. Stop. What you’re wearing is fine. You look beautiful. I promise, my mother is much more casual than what you’re thinking. She lives in Brooklyn in a beautiful brownstone. She’s married to a normal guy, and they have a dog. She’s the least pretentious person you’ll ever meet, and if you decided to show up in pajamas, she wouldn’t bat an eye. In fact, she’d probably run upstairs and change into hers.”

From everything he just told me, I think I already love her. “What kind of dog?” I ask, as if this will be the deal breaker.

His eyes soften and I can hear his tone relax. “A basset hound. He’s a real pain in the ass, but he’s the cutest damn dog—”

“Fine. I’ll go.” I toss my head back in defeat.

“It was the dog, wasn’t it?” he jokes.

“Yeah. A cute dog will always get me.” I wrap my arms around his waist and hug him.

“Noted.” He laughs.



Less than an hour later, Holt’s driver weaves through the Manhattan streets with ease, merging onto the Brooklyn Bridge. It’s every bit as beautiful as the images you see online and on television. My face is pressed to the glass as Manhattan disappears behind us, and I feel Holt lacing his fingers through mine.

“Don’t be nervous,” he says, giving my hand a small squeeze.

I narrow my eyes at him briefly before smiling. He knows there’s no talking me out of being nervous. But I’m instantly fascinated with Brooklyn. The buildings, the shops, the more low-key way of life. It feels like another world, and it’s just over a bridge from Manhattan.

“Here we are,” Holt says, leaning down to look out the window.

We pull up in front of the most gorgeous brownstone I’ve ever seen. The building is tan brick, with a huge staircase leading up to the large door. There is a small yard encased behind a brick and iron fence just off the stairs to the left, and this brownstone has a single car garage off to the right. It’s the only one on the street with a garage. Two large carriage lights sit atop the end of the brick stairs, welcoming us.

Holt comes around the side of the car to open the door for me, and I stand in awe as I glance up and down the street.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Holt, this is seriously the cutest neighborhood I’ve ever seen.”

He looks around and inhales deeply, a sense of pride crawling across his face. “I know. Wait until you see the inside. They remodeled everything after Dan retired. The house was built in eighteen ninety-nine,” he says as we walk up the concrete steps. “My mom helped me redesign my house after she did theirs. She knew what original features should be left and what could be updated.”

I nod in response as we reach the top of the steps. Suddenly, the front door flies open and there stands the sweetest looking lady I’ve ever seen.

“Holt!” she says, bounding through the door and into his arms.

He drops my hand to catch her as she throws herself at him. She’s thin and stands much shorter than him. She has dark hair cut into a long bob that just brushes the top of her shoulders.

Pulling out of her hug, she instantly turns to me and opens her arms. “You must be Saige,” she says warmly. “Holt has told me so much about you.” My eyes widen in surprise at her statement.

I smile and lean in, letting her embrace me while shooting Holt a look over her shoulder. He grins sheepishly and shrugs, looking away from my scowl before stepping through the large wooden door and into the foyer.