Hold My Breath

“Probably not, huh?” she says.

“Probably not,” I say, motioning out the window where her dad is standing a few yards away, his arms folded and his eyes watching our every move.

“He likes you, Will. Don’t be nervous,” she chuckles.

I pull the key from the car and push my door open, sliding the keys in my pocket while I round the back of the car and meet Maddy just in time to take her hand while she exits my car. I’m playful with her fingers, and we both look at our flirting hands.

“I don’t think he’d like me very much if he knew all of the things I want to do to you,” I say quietly.

Her fingers keep playing along with mine, and I hear her swallow. I chuckle and hold my arm out for her to take, and she looks down, her cheeks red as she slides her arm through mine, her hands wrapping around my bicep and forearm. I lean into her, urging her to look up at me.

“A thousand parties,” I say.

She quirks a brow and squints. I lean in close enough to whisper while we walk.

“I’d go to a thousand parties if I got to walk in with you on my arm,” I say.

Her head falls against my shoulder, and her hands squeeze where they hold. I feel strong enough to survive anything.

Maddy’s mom, Susan, has joined Curtis just outside the door while we walk up, and their expressions couldn’t possibly be more different. Susan’s eyes look a happy kind of surprised, and Curtis looks like he wants to take me out back and dispose of my body in the alley. On instinct, and perhaps a little out of self-preservation, I slide Maddy’s arm loose from mine and let her go when we reach the door.

“Will, I haven’t seen you enough. I’m so glad you could come today,” Susan says, hugging me and kissing my cheek. She feels like home, too.

“Not sure this party was optional,” I say, letting her go and glancing from her to her husband. His face is still stern, and I’m pretty sure he’s gritting his back teeth. “But I would have come no matter what.”

“Well, either way, I’m glad you did,” Susan says, patting my shoulder, and walking inside, leaving me alone with Maddy’s dad.

“You two seem to have found your way,” he says, his lips twisted and pushed together tight.

“I’ve missed her, is all,” I say.

Okay, I lie sometimes. I lie to this man, because he scares the ever-loving shit out of me, and because I have now seen his daughter naked, and I feel like he knows.

“Uh huh,” Curtis says, blinking when he turns his eyes away from me, stepping in and holding the door as I pass. He shuts it behind us, and I wait for his lead, following him down the hallway to the main room that has been cleared out to make room for tabletops and mingling. Suddenly, my jacket feels tighter.

“I have some folks I’d like you to meet, if you’ve got a minute?” Curtis says, turning to me as we step into the crowd. There are about twenty of us swimming at the club, and we’re all here, but mix in the people with money, family members, dates and such, and it’s hard to maneuver around the modest Woodsen home. I manage to follow Curtis through the tables to two men standing by the door. Their suits—they seem to fit right.

“Will, this is Craig and Allan Cumberland,” he doesn’t need to finish the intro for me to get exactly who they are. I wear their suit. I’ve always worn their suit.

“Nice to meet you,” I say, very aware of my grip. I squeeze hard, and I get a smirk from one of them.

“Likewise, Will. I’m Allan, this is Craig,” the taller of the two says.

I glance between them and catch a glimpse of Maddy, standing at a table with Amber and her friend Holly. They’re all laughing over something, but Maddy’s pretending. I can tell; her eyes are on me, and she’s watching this conversation.

“Been following your story for a while, Will,” Craig says. “You’ve overcome a lot. It’s pretty inspiring.”

My mouth falls to a straight line and I look down when a server walks by and drops a napkin at our table for each of us. Prophetic.

“Water for me, thanks,” I say before she has a chance to zip off and fetch wine for all of us. She nods, and I catch Curtis’s stare, his tight smile.

“I wouldn’t say it’s inspiring,” I say, in response to Craig. “Those things were all kinda my own doing, for the most part. Just trying to claw my way back, I guess—prove something.”

“I think you’re proving things to a lot of people just by going to the trials,” Allan says.

“Maybe,” I say, happy that the server returns quickly with my water. I twist the cap and guzzle nearly half of it down, relieved to have something to busy myself with.

“The Cumberlands were thinking, Will…since you wear their suits and all, maybe there’s an opportunity for some sit-downs, a few interviews, nothing too big…” Curtis’s words trail off while he waits for my reaction. Everyone at this table is watching me drink from a water bottle, and I do my best to smile with my eyes.

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