Decked with Holly

Unless the rock star was lowering his model standards . . . because he was desperate. Oh, yeah, that idea was doing wonders for my self-esteem.

Unless . . . maybe he meant it in a reassuring hey, if you don’t want to have sex, I won’t pressure you kind of way. The two of us were about to share a suite, after all. Maybe he was trying to eliminate any potential awkward tension.

In which case, Nick had failed completely: I felt more comfortable crawling around the mall in my elf outfit than I did sitting on his bed at that moment.

Probably because of the intimidation factor in having this conversation with the drummer of one of the hottest bands in America. When I thought of him as Dominic Wyatt: Grammy-winning artist, yeah, I froze. So I had to keep mentally repeating that it was Nick. Just a guy I’d recently met who, despite his off-the-charts good looks, could also be kinda . . . awkward.

Sometimes.

Especially when I mentioned my parents’ death and he started tripping over his words.

When he made sexual allusions probably intended to rattle me: not so much.

That’s when I became the awkward one.

Still, I didn’t want Nick to see how much his words had thrown me, or that I had actually considered having a strictly physical relationship with him for the rest of the cruise. Well, considered for about a nanosecond. Part of it sounded kind of . . . fun. A brief Christmas fling before I returned to my normally scheduled life. There was still a week left for me to be as wild as I wanted without having to worry that I’d run into him in the hallways of my high school.

But making sure that I didn’t develop any feelings for Nick during our fauxmance would be hard enough without adding a physical component to it.

The weird part was that when he said having sex was up to me, I wasn’t really thinking of doing it with him. Well, okay, yes, it would be with him. But he would just be the available means for losing my virginity so that I wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore.

It might not sound too good, but honestly, sometimes being a virgin feels really stressful. So many people make sex out to be the single most important decision of your life, as if there’s only a handful of “right” ways to lose it or you’re automatically a slut. You can only do it after two months of dating, only after marriage, only if you would want to raise a baby, etc. And then there were all sorts of Exceptions to the Rules, like: It’s not sex unless he’s inside you.

Except, what?

I’m pretty sure that gay/lesbian/transgender/queer couples have sex too.

And the whole conversation gets so intense that getting really drunk and having a one-night stand just sounds . . . easier. Especially because if you don’t do it eventually, people won’t see you as someone who happens to enjoy living with felines but as a confirmed spinster cat lady.

So, yeah, for a nanosecond I considered saying something incredibly stupid like, “If we both agree never to speak of this again . . . I’m in.”

Thankfully, my brain kicked in faster than my hormones.

“Thanks, but I’ll pass.” I smiled to mask my discomfort. “So do you think we’re ready for the interview?”

“Actually, yes. So if you just follow my lead, we should be fine.” Nick scrolled through his Skype contacts and settled on Kate Hamilton, People magazine.

Two rings later it was showtime.

“Hi, Kate!” Nick flashed her a grin, which was clearly meant to be charming. Actually, it was pretty damn charming.

Which was straight-up unfair.

“Hey, yourself! So what’s this I hear about a new girl, Dominic? I thought you were pining after me.”

He laughed and pawed uncomfortably at his hair, which only made it look even more disheveled. I didn’t think that was the look he was going for, though. “You’ll always be the one that got away, Kate. But I’d like you to meet Holly Dayton.”

He turned the iPad toward me as I snuggled in closer and waved. “Hi, Kate, it’s nice to meet you!”

The woman filling up the screen looked to be in her late twenties and was polished to a glossy Hollywood sheen. Her hair was tied back in a chic chignon, which emphasized her enormous brown eyes and her bronzed skin. Kate looked effortlessly stylish while I looked like I spent the night puking and bawling my eyes out.

Great.

She swiftly studied my bedraggled appearance but she didn’t comment on it. Maybe because I was wearing Nick’s shirt and he had slung his arm around my shoulder to pull me against him. The two of us were obviously together.

Or at least we were obviously pretending to be together.

“So when did this happen?” Kate beamed, but there was something feral in the look, as if she couldn’t wait to post a scathing story about our torrid affair all over the Internet.

“We met in a bookstore,” I replied before Nick could open his mouth. “Nick here helped me reach the novel I was interested in.”

“Nick?” Kate repeated. “That’s a cute nickname.”

I plastered a besotted look on my face. “I wanted to have something between us that was, you know, special.”

“And what does Nick call you?”

“Holly Disaster,” he replied smoothly, taking over. “Every now and then I’ll call her Holly-day.”

I wasn’t sure where those nicknames had come from, but I wished that he could take them back. I’ve had teachers cracking stupid “happy holly-day” jokes since elementary school.

They get old. Fast. Not that being called Holly Disaster was any better.

I couldn’t let my annoyance show, so I just smiled sweetly for the camera . . . and discreetly pinched his side.

“How long have you two been dating?”

“Coming up on two weeks together.” Nick’s smile broadened. “We couldn’t be happier.”

“That’s not long to be taking your romance abroad.”

“I’ve been spending all my time with the band lately, so when Holly told me about this cruise we thought it would be a great way to relax and spend some time together.”

“And it’s my birthday soon,” I added. “We wanted to celebrate that together too.”

He nudged me with his knee to get me to shut up. I just ignored him.

“Are the two of you doing anything special to celebrate?”

“Nick won’t tell me. He wants it to be a surprise.”

I could tell that Nick wanted to glare at me from the way his smile stiffened as if he was fighting with himself to keep it in place. “Well, Holly is so full of surprises, I thought it’d be fun to turn the tables on her.”

Oh, boy, I was going to be in big trouble later.

“And has your family met Dominic yet, Holly?”

“Not yet. We were hoping to delay the introductions for another day or two.”

“And how do you think they are going to react to the news?”

I laughed. “Honestly? I’m not sure. My grandpa will probably worry that Nick isn’t good enough for me.”

Kate laughed too hard, as if I had told a hilarious joke by even suggesting that I could do any better than a rock star. “So, Dominic, are you good enough for her?”

He looked down at me, as if soaking in every detail, from the dusting of freckles across my nose to the exact green tint of my eyes. “I have no idea what I ever did to deserve her.”

Only the two of us knew he didn’t mean it as a compliment.

“Do either of you want to comment on the rumors that Dominic has also been dating”—Kate glanced down to look at some papers scattered across her desk—“Cynthia Ridgley?”

Nick shook his head. “It’s a lie, Kate. She’s just a kid who doesn’t deserve the media making up stuff about her. Not to mention, I’m only interested in Holly.”

“And, Holly, there are some, ahem, alarming photos of the two of you where Dominic looks quite angry. Can you comment on the rumors that Dominic is abusive?”

I felt the tension radiating off Nick as his muscles tightened reflexively.

“I think that whoever is spreading those rumors is a pitiful excuse for a human being. Nick is an incredible boyfriend! Do you want to know what he did last night?”

“Holly.” Nick tried to cut me off. “You don’t need t—”

“I was seasick,” I informed Kate. “My face was sheet white and I looked like a zombie.”

Kate chuckled indulgently. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“No, I honestly looked like a zombie and I felt even worse. But Nick wasn’t even fazed. He helped me right through the worst of it. That’s the kind of guy he is.”

I tried to do the whole googly-eyes-of-love thing, to sell the act, and found myself seeing him a little bit differently. His dark brown bangs flopped across his forehead appealingly, while tufts stuck up in back, and the beginnings of a real smile tilted his lips into a smirk. He looked the same as he had fifteen minutes ago. But while I gave him a glowing boyfriend review, I could almost forget his tendency to be arrogant and uptight. And that he was overprotective of ugly Hawaiian-print shirts.

Yeah, real Prince Charming material.

Not.

“Well, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone then.”

That snapped me back to reality. We were done. And from the sound of it, I had passed muster once again. Being a celebrity was even easier than it looked!

“We appreciate that. Always good talking with you, Kate.”

“It was nice meeting you,” I added politely.

She smiled distractedly as her fingers appeared to fly lightly across her keyboard. The action didn’t take anything away from her polished sheen.

“Nice meeting you too, Holly. And happy birthday! I can’t wait to hear all about Dominic’s surprise for you.”

And with that she disconnected.

“A birthday surprise.” Nick instantly unwrapped his arm from across my shoulder. “I can’t believe you roped me into that.”

“Well . . . surprise!”

He just kept glaring at me.

“Princess, Nick. Just for a week. In private you can call me a pain in the ass, although for the record, I just nailed that interview. I mean, you should be thanking me right now for even going along with this plan. I’m going to be the best girlfriend you’ve never had, and in return, for just one week, I want the rock star experience.”

“So you want me to throw you some big, over-the-top party.”

“I want something special, and I don’t want you to skimp. But if you want, I can return whatever gift you get me when we end our fauxmance.”

He looked appalled. “So I have to throw you a party and buy you something.”

“Well . . . yeah. That’s what a devoted rock star would probably do for his girlfriend, right? Something extravagant. And when we go our separate ways, I’ll hand it right back. You can give it to your mom as a belated Christmas present if you want. I’m not after your money.”

“No, you just want to take advantage of my fame.”

The truth stung but I refused to be ashamed of it. “And you want to take advantage of my wholesome, good-girl image. We’re both after something. I’m just being straightforward about it.”

“A birthday party,” he repeated. “I don’t like it.”

“Tough.”

He grimaced. “I’m hungry. Let’s get some food.”

Then without waiting for a response, he laced his fingers through mine, unlocked the door, pulled it open, and started flat-out running with me down the long hallway toward the elevators. I ignored the way the action made my stomach churn angrily as we kept our heads down and barreled through the screaming fan girls. We sprinted down two flights and a long hallway before we risked taking an elevator up to the Lido deck.

I was out of breath and panting heavily by the time we finally slowed down. No wonder the Hollywood starlets were so thin. Being chased by fans was one hell of a workout, especially for a girl whose lingering seasickness refused to leave.

Still . . . all things considered, life was starting to look up.