It was ironic, really. Alex had been with a lot of women, and had fun with most of them. He hoped that most of them had had fun, too. But none of those relationships had ever seemed to matter very much. They were enjoyable while they lasted, and that was it. He never felt as if he was necessary in any woman’s life, and no woman had ever been necessary to him.
Then there was Holly. Almost from the moment they’d met, he’d felt a connection to her. It was as if he had X-ray vision where Holly was concerned, letting him see the passion and vulnerability she hid from the world. Things no one else seemed to care about. And because he could see her so clearly, he’d always felt as if she needed him. Needed him in a way no other woman ever had.
And that was the true irony. She needed him, and he failed her—time after time.
He’d never been able to help her. He hadn’t talked her out of dating Brian; he hadn’t convinced her to marry him when she was pregnant and alone. Hell, she hadn’t even let him change her flat tire.
Last night was the first time Holly Stanton had accepted any kind of help from him.
And here he was, ready to ruin it. Ready to act on an attraction she didn’t share and didn’t need to deal with right now—and to jeopardize a friendship that was less than twenty-four hours old.
Maybe the connection he felt to Holly was always meant to be a friendship. Maybe his desire for her had gotten in the way of that—even when they were teenagers. Especially when they were teenagers.
Maybe that was why he’d always failed her.
Well, he wasn’t going to fail this time.
Alex sighed and headed downstairs for the living room, deciding to see what Will was up to. With Will, at least things were straightforward. Football. Music. The basics.
Will was literally surrounded with music right now, half of Alex’s CD collection in little piles on the living room floor. “I’m reorganizing them for you,” he explained.
Alex sat on the floor with his back against his over-stuffed sofa.
“We’re going to create categories. Not too many, because then it gets confusing and harder to maintain. Just the biggies. So far I’ve got classic rock, rhythm and blues, punk, metal, modern rock and jazz. We’ll be alphabetizing within the categories, of course. Anything that doesn’t fit we’ll call eclectic and put at the end.”
Alex put his hands behind his head and leaned back comfortably against his couch, thinking about how much he liked kids in general and this kid in particular. “You’re more like your mom than I thought. This is not a compliment, by the way.”
Will grinned at him. “Sure it is. And a little organization won’t kill you. Especially considering all this great raw material,” he added.
“Does Holly like music?” Alex couldn’t help asking.
“Yeah, she does. Actually, my mom’s taste in music isn’t too terrible, considering.”
“Considering her advanced age, you mean?”
“Exactly. It tends more toward the classic rock end, but at least within her limits she has good taste.”
Alex started to get interested. “Like what? Give me some examples.”
Will thought about it. “Well, Bruce Springsteen’s big. ‘Thunder Road’ and ‘Born to Run’ are two of her favorite songs. Then there’s Van Morrison. ‘Moondance’ and ‘Crazy Love.’ Joni Mitchell’s ‘Blue,’ the entire album. Everything Aretha Franklin ever did.”
Alex sat up straighter. “Keep going. What else?”
“How come you’re so interested in my mom’s taste in music?” Will asked.
“Well, I’m interested in your mom. I mean,” he added hastily, “I’m interested in being friends with your mom. Considering we’re going to be under the same roof for a while, it’s probably a good idea for me to learn more about her. And music, important music—the kind you’d bring with you to a desert island—is like a map of a person’s soul.”
Will was still studying him, and Alex felt a little uncomfortable. But after a minute he started talking again.
“She likes a lot of eighties stuff.” Will shook his head. “She has this secret passion for Joan Jett, which she thinks I don’t know about. She has…well, she used to have…a couple of albums by Foreigner, and one by Air Supply.” He shuddered in mock horror at that, but Alex had been distracted by something else. The change in verb tense.
“Wow, kid,” he said slowly. “It’s just starting to hit me. You really lost everything last night. All your books, all your music.”
Will made a wry face. “Yeah. The books don’t bother me much but the music’s pretty hard to take. Although from what I see here, I’ll be able to recreate a lot of my collection by copying yours. A lot of my mom’s favorites are in here, too. She’s a big Rolling Stones fan.”