But that dream got tabled when Holly returned from her short bathroom break. The cocky, slightly flustered woman who’d sent me off to find her coat was replaced by a distant stranger who now won’t look at me for more than a quick glance.

I can’t let the night end with her as that person.

“What happened when you went upstairs, Holly?”

She doesn’t answer me immediately. A sick feeling cuts at my insides. Just because we weren’t at a frat party doesn’t mean there weren’t guys there who liked to take what they wanted without asking.

I’m about to tell her to turn the car around, so I can fucking destroy whoever made her retreat like this when she answers me, “I ran into Annabelle. She was drunk. She said things that made me uncomfortable.”

Anger tightens my chest.

“What did she say?” The words have trouble exiting through my clenched jaw.

Holly sighs, and some of the tension that’s been holding her shoulders around her ears releases. But not all of it. “Just stuff about you two. Intimate things I’d have rather not heard in detail. And she cursed a lot. I don’t like when people curse.”

Thinking back, I can’t remember a time when Holly has ever used profanity. I’ve noticed she mutters ridiculous words one might say in front of a child whenever it seems like an appropriate time to shout out, Shit, or, Fuck.

Good to know.

I wonder if the cursing is all that made Holly uncomfortable. A selfish part of me wants her to be jealous, too. But this agitated state Holly is in isn’t what I want when I discuss my infatuation with her.

Instead, I focus on damage control. “I’m sorry she came at you. She’s pissed at me.”

Holly keeps her eyes on the road but gives a slight nod. “How long did you two date?”

Hell, are we really going to discuss my ex?

I want her in the past and to focus on getting Holly to be my future. But I promised honesty.

“A little over a year.” Watching her profile, I pick out surprise.

“That long? What happened?”

Even though she’s not looking at me, I still lift my shoulders and let them fall. Not because I don’t know, but more because I’d like to shrug off my past stupidity. That time with Annabelle was a mistake, one I was embarrassingly slow to realize.

“I ended things.” I sigh and continue before Holly asks me to because I know she will, “I went to a student gallery showing, and I was saying how much I liked some paintings that turned out to be hers. She overheard me. I loved her art and was flattered when someone as creative as her was interested in me. I think I kind of saw her as an embodiment of that artistic part of life that I loved. But she’s a person with her own flaws, and when we got past the honeymoon stage, I realized she liked me more as a fan of her work than a partner.” A sigh pushes its way out of me, and I reach back to scratch my neck. “Neither of us had really tried to get to know the other person, and when I started, she pushed back. She liked the surface type of relationship we had. But it wasn’t working for me. We didn’t work. But she thought everything was fine between us, so she was surprised when I broke it off at the beginning of the summer.”