I didn’t dare allow myself to ponder what that meant if he had been.
Forcing my legs to move, I stepped forward. I barely got two steps down when Holden pushed off the fence and swaggered in my direction. His cleats crunched on the turf as he neared us. Swallowing hard, I could hear my heart hammering in my ears as if it had literally traveled from my chest and now resided in my head. Holden elbowed his way through the band students, his gaze never leaving me. The hunger in his eyes crashed over me like a powerful ocean wave. What the hell was he doing? Curious glances and loud whispers spun around me the closer he got. When he reached me, I stopped walking, afraid I would walk right into his chest.
Before I could register what was happening, his hand reached up to cup my face. He was so close I could smell sweat and the faint scent of his deodorant. I sucked in a breath, unable to move.
“You were amazing,” Holden breathed.
“You saw?” I whispered, not fully trusting my voice right now.
“The entire thing.” He grinned, his hand still on my face. “And now I know.”
“Know what?” I bit my lip. It terrified me how much I liked the feel of his hand on my skin. I prayed he’d never release it.
“That you love music the way I love football. I’ve never seen anyone look as gorgeous as you did in your element.”
I snorted, his words breaking through the trance he’d had me under. “Yeah, right. There is nothing pretty about me in this monstrosity.” Cringing, I peered down at my marching band uniform.
“I didn’t say beautiful. I said gorgeous. And I meant it.” The sincerity in his eyes made me clamp my mouth shut, closing in the sarcastic remark that threatened to come out. When I dared to peek around us, I saw that the field had pretty much cleared out. The band had made it off the turf, and the football team was just filing out of the locker room. Everyone in the bleachers were watching us. I froze. “Let them stare.” Holden’s hand curved further around my face, and he moved closer. So close I thought he might kiss me. His warm breath fanned over my flesh. “I want them to know how I feel. I like you, Chloe. It never mattered to me that you were in band. I want to be with you, and I’m not going to let our social status get in the way of that. Are you?”
Well, when he put it that way, how I could I refuse?
Besides, he was right. He’d made it clear that he liked me from the first day we met. It was me who’d let our labels get in the way. My lips twitched, curving upward.
“I like you too, Holden.”
A grin leapt to his lips, and he stepped even closer.
My pulse quickened. “But I’m not kissing you in front of all these people.”
“Fair enough.” He winked, dropping his hand. “I can wait.”
“We’ll take things slow?” I may have liked him, but I hardly knew him. And I still had some reservations about the whole thing.
“As slow or fast as you want. You make the call.”
My cheeks colored. “I meant with our relationship…not, you know, sexually.” God, did I just say the word ‘sexually’ to Holden Reece? “Although, I do want to go slow with that. I mean…” I was making this worse. Why couldn’t I shut up?
“Relax. I knew what you meant.” He grabbed my hand, and I noticed the team had taken the field. “Let me walk you off.”
I nodded, acutely aware of all the eyes on me. Every single player was staring at me, wide-eyed. Not to mention the cheerleaders were having a free-for-all. Some of them smiled with a giddiness I’d never possessed, but one of them looked outright pissed. I shuddered, grasping tightly to Holden’s hand. I wished I didn’t have my gloves on. It would be nice to feel his skin against mine.
“Wait for me. We’ll talk after the game,” Holden said when we got to the edge of the field.
“Okay.” My head swirled. This was all happening so fast. A half hour ago I was angry with Holden. I wanted nothing to do with him. Now I was holding his hand and agreeing to wait for him after the game.
He smiled before releasing my hand and racing back out onto the field. My chest heaved with each breath as I watched him. It all felt so surreal. Had he really met me out on the field, touching my face and saying sweet things in front of everyone? He’d proven to me that he didn’t care what others thought, and that spoke volumes.
I felt someone watching me, and I turned. Preston was standing a few feet away, his expression dark. I smiled, but he didn’t return it. Instead, his gaze slid past me, honing in on Holden. Then he shook his head and stormed off angrily. My chest tightened. Had Holden really done what I asked of him? Had he really proven that he wasn’t a bully?