"You want to what?"
Holly was incredulous. She was exhausted from a full morning of packing, and now that the movers had transported all her things into a storage facility, she was just settling down in the guest room of Alex's loft when he sprang the idea of using her life story as the plot line of his next book.
"I wouldn't use your exact life story, of course," Alex said, taking a seat on the bed and watching Holly fold clothes and place them in the dresser. "And I'd change all the names and the locations, and you wouldn't have to worry about anyone connecting the book to you."
Holly sighed, unable to believe she was hearing him correctly. "That doesn't matter," she snapped, slamming shut the bottom drawer and pushing herself off the floor. She shook her head at Alex's offer to help her stand. "I would still feel ridiculously exposed, and I don't want my life used as creative fodder just to be put out there for the whole world to judge!"
Alex frowned in exasperation, his patience wearing thin. He tried not to let his frustration show, however; he was learning from experience that fighting with Holly was not the best way to get what he wanted.
He also tried not to let how attractive Holly looked when she was angry distract him from the argument he was trying to make.
"Holly," he began, settling his face into a look of calm and collectedness. "First of all, no one would judge you. How could they," he said loudly, interrupting her as she opened her mouth to retort. "You've done nothing wrong, and if anything they'd be moved by what you've had to go through."
Holly closed her mouth, her lips forming a straight line. Her headache was returning; Alex was being stubborn. Well, I can be stubborn too, she thought, her chin lifting defiantly. "Like I've said, Alex, none of that matters to me." She turned from him and sifted through her suitcase, pretending to be looking for something. "It would be way too personal, and I don't want to have to relive those experiences just so you can have another best seller under your belt."
Alex bit back the sharp retort that sprang to his lips. He tried to be understanding; thinking about it, he realized that he, too, would feel bit violated if someone wanted to exploit his life just to make quick buck.
"I agree with you," he said, catching Holly off guard. She spun around to look at him. "You do?" she asked disbelievingly.
"Yeah," Alex said, running a hand through his hair. "And I want you to know, honestly, that I could care less if the book's a hit or not. I just think you have a story worth telling."
Holly cocked her head, staring at Alex as if she were just seeing him for the first time. He seemed so sincere; and so far he didn't seem like the type who would lie to her. If anything, he was usually as blunt as a battle axe.
"So what's in it for me, then?" she asked. This time it was Alex's turn to look surprised. He hadn't expected her to change her tune so quickly.
"Well," he said, clasping his hands behind his back and pacing next to the bed. "How about this: in exchange for letting me use you as the inspiration for my novel, I pay for the repairs to your bike?"
Holly shook her head vehemently. "Nope, nothing doing," she said, going back to rummaging through the suitcase.
Alex groaned. "Come on, Holly," he wheedled, walking over to her and turning her to face him. "This way it would be a fair exchange, and not me just doing you a favor out of pity." He paused. "Which wasn't the case anyway, but I will never be able to understand where you were coming from on that one," he added.
Holly stared at him, not saying anything as her mind raced. Alex looked hopeful. And, to be honest, it did seem like a square deal -- she'd be giving him something in return.
"You know that if you don't tell them something in the next day or two, they'll just scrap it altogether," Alex said. "Please, Holly," he continued quietly, taking her hands in his and squeezing them. "If you say no, I'll drop it. But please, don't say no."
Holly met his eyes. They were a stormy gray, and he returned her stare so intensely that she found it hard to look away. "Alright," she murmured, finally closing her eyes to break the eye contact. "I'll do it."
Alex smiled hugely, throwing his arms around her. "Thank you!" he breathed into her ear, sending shivers down her spine. His embrace was warm and gentle as he cradled her against his broad chest. Holly felt herself flush as she remained in his arms, realizing that she didn't really want him to let her go.
Alex stared down at the top of Holly's auburn head, feeling his heart speed up and his muscles tense as he continued to hold her. Something else tensed, too, and clearing his throat he finally wrenched himself away from her before she could detect that he had enjoyed the hug a lot more than he was willing to admit.
"Well," he said, rubbing the back of his neck and backing out of the room slowly. "I'll just let you finish unpacking. I'll be in the living room."
He turned and walked out. Holly was left to catch her breath as tingling sensations ran throughout her body. "Why can't I just tell that man 'no'?" she asked herself, shaking her head and sitting down gingerly on the bed.
She suspected it had something to do with the way he looked at her. Yes, she thought. That has to be it.
*
After she had changed into a comfortable sweatshirt and shorts, Holly limped into the living room. She saw Alex sitting on the couch, a legal pad perched on his knees and a steaming cup of coffee resting on the table.
"Did you take an aspirin?" he called over his shoulder, not even looking at her. Holly stuck her tongue out at the back of his head before saying, "I was just going to." She moved into the kitchen, taking the aspirin bottle out of a cabinet and going to the refrigerator for a bottle of water.
Alex stifled a moan at the sight of Holly's long, alabaster legs. They were shapely and beautiful; the only thing detracting from their loveliness was the ugly bruise that peeking out from underneath the hem of her shorts. He winced at the sight of it, a pang of guilt running through him at the knowledge that he had been the cause of it.
He looked away quickly as Holly came toward the couch. She settled down next to him, carefully propping her legs up on the coffee table. Alex swallowed nervously as he watched her stretch out. Stop it, Grant, his mind warned him. Time for work, never time for play.
"So, what are we going to do first?" Holly asked, regarding Alex with curiosity. "I've never been someone's muse before, so you'll have to give me some direction."
Alex nodded, looking down at the writing pad in his lap and drumming the pen against it. "Right," he said, trying to force his thoughts back onto the task at hand and away from Holly's legs. "Well, uh, I guess you could start assisting me by answering a few questions." He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "You know, to get me started."
Holly leaned back against the couch cushions, looking apprehensive. "What is it you want to know?" she asked.
"I guess, for starters, when and where you were born," Alex replied, also sitting back and trying to make himself comfortable. His pen hovered above the paper as he stared at her, waiting for her answer.
Holly felt strange under his scrutiny. She'd never been one to enjoy the spotlight, and here she was, being interviewed so her life could be placed under a microscope.
"I was born on April 22, 1985 in Fairfield, New Jersey," she began, trying to calm her nerves. "My parents were Richard and Annie Sullivan, and I was an only child."
Alex dutifully recorded this information. "Please, continue," he said, looking up at her expectantly.
Taking a deep breath, Holly went on. "I had a happy life for the first sixteen years," she said, a dreamy smile coming across her face as she recalled her childhood. "My parents were devoted to each other, and they both loved me. And I loved them, too."
Her eyes closed as her mind drifted back. "My dad used to take me for rides on his Harley," she said. "Those were some of the best times I can remember."
Alex scrawled on the pad, nodding absentmindedly. "So you were a daddy's girl?" he asked.
