Whispers ignite and eyes bounce back and forth between Holden and I. We've yet to look away from each other. He continues staring at me thoughtfully and I still don't know what he's doing but hopefully these are all good signs. No more hiding. Does that mean we're going to be okay?

Still holding my gaze, he begins to speak. "When I was twenty-three, I suffered a massive injury to my shoulder that never healed."

Holy crap.

My heart stalls in my chest and I'm not the only one. Pin-drop silence follows his words as the room goes into shock. Anyone who knows Holden, who even knows of him, knows he never talks about his injury. Ever. He acknowledges everything that came after it but never where it all started. I don't know why he's choosing now to talk about it but I desperately hang onto his words as he continues.

"I had a good agent at the time. He kept the media away from me for the most part. They got the occasional update about my recovery process but no one got a first hand look at what happened to me. It was pure luck that I wasn't taken advantage of that way. Unfortunately, not everyone gets to say that."

Oh. Now I think I know where he's going with this. The stares on me are back so I'm not the only one who just put two and two together. I swallow back the emotion clogging my throat.

"I'd like to even the scales," He straightens out his neatly-placed tie. To anyone else there's nothing unusual about that but I know better. His compulsions get worse the more nervous he is. "By showing you what I really went through at the time. By showing you what was probably the most vulnerable moment in my life."

Oh, God. Why would he do that? He doesn't have to tear himself up like that. That's not helping anyone.

I try to stand but Harper grabs my arm and gently pulls me down again. I plead her with my eyes, desperate. "Let me stop him."

"You're not allowed to." She smiles sadly. "Boss-man's orders."

There's a whirring sound as a large projector screen comes down. The lights dim and the image of a paused video comes into view. Holden nods to someone on the side and a video starts to play.

"One more." A man urges a much younger Holden. I remember when he looked like that—young but so wise. His face is clenched in pain and the man claps his hands. "Give me one more, Rey."

"I can't," Holden sobs. Tears are streaking down his face and he sets his forehead on the wall in front of him. "Stop. I want to stop."

"You have to give me one more, son. Just one more wall push-up and you're done for the day."

"I can't! Can't you see it fucking hurts!" His fingers tighten into fists and another shudder wracks through him. "Call my parents. I can't do this alone."

The guy, who I'm assuming is his trainer, looks at whoever is working the camera. The pity couldn't be more obvious and he sets a hand on Holden's back.

"We called them a bunch of times, son. I'm sorry. They're not picking up."

Holden's face tightens for a split second before a frustrated roar rips out of him and he punches the wall. Everyone in the room audibly gasps when another cry tears out of him on screen. I almost clutch my own shoulder, almost feel the sharp pain, because that had to have hurt. It had to have hurt so bad.

"Shit!" His trainer grabs Holden by the waist when he slinks down, clutching his shoulder in agony. "Damn it, Rey! You can't keep aggravating the muscle like that! Michael, turn the damn thing off and help me get him wrapped."

The camera becomes unfocused and shaky and then it goes black. The silence in the room is overwhelming. I wonder if everyone else's gut is thrashing like mine is. That was...awful. And it's not over. Another clip comes on the screen not even a handful of seconds later.

This time Holden is sitting on a couch and facing someone. We can't see who it is because his back is to the camera but the setting is obvious. He's in therapy. His shoulder is in a sleeve and his arm is tucked into his side. He's staring at the doctor with eyes that are so void and cold it makes me flinch. The camera zooms in on his face just as someone says, "Day 32. Managing symptoms of obsessive-compulsive disorder."

"Does doing this bring you comfort?" The doctor asks.

Holden stares at him, unblinking. He asks in a cool tone, "What?"

"Tugging the front of your t-shirt. Every three seconds, to be exact. You're counting in your head, aren't you?"

The camera zooms into Holden's hands that are, in fact, tugging the front of his shirt. He stops abruptly and the camera zooms out again. Holden's jaw locks and a sheen starts to form on his forehead.

"I didn't point it out so that you would stop. You're torturing yourself right now, Mr. Rey. Do whatever brings you comfort and let's just work through it."

"I don't need to," Holden snaps but he's quivering. He's physically trembling in resistance and this is almost as painful to watch as his physical therapy.

The doctor leans forward in his seat. "You don't need to prove anything to me or anyone. Especially not at the expense of hurting yourself and you are inflicting harm by resisting your compulsions. Ignoring them won't convince me that you don't have an illness."

"I'm not crazy," He whispers through gritted teeth. His hand is shaking so violently he has to clench it until his fist turns white. "I don't have OCD. You're wrong."

"Holden." The doctor lowers his voice significantly. "Yes, you do. And it's not a bad thing or something to be embarrassed by. It doesn't make you crazy. It just means you have a different way of coping with the world around you and I'm here to make that coping a little bit easier for you. Will you let me do that?"

Holden glares at the floor. His whole body is trembling, his chest heaving. I'm counting for him and I've counted thirty seconds since the last time he tugged his shirt. That's ten compulsions he's ignored. There's no way he's okay right now but he's fighting it with everything in him.

"Holden." The doctor tries again. There's urgency in his tone. "Your hand, son. You're hurting yourself."

Holden blinks and glances down at his curled fist. He stops it from shaking and slowly, painfully slow, uncurls his fingers. My hands go to my mouth to stop the audible cry crawling up my throat. Crescent marks from his nails adorn his palms...and they're bleeding. He made himself bleed.

"What's happening to me?" He whispers. His chest heaves harder and he finally gives in, tugging his shirt hard. And he won't stop. He tugs, and tugs, and tugs, and his face tightens from impending tears. "Make it stop. I can't stop. Make it...please."

"Jesus," Whoever's recording whispers. The camera moves and points to the floor instead. "No more, man. I can't fucking watch this."

The screen goes dark.

The room is quiet when the lights come on again and the projector goes back up. There's not even a whisper of a noise as Holden faces the crowd. I search his face desperately. The young boy in the videos looked tortured, pained, broken. But the Holden standing in front of us is anything but. He stands tall and powerful, the embodiment of confidence and authority. It's hard to believe the boy in the videos and the man in front of us are the same people.

"One last thing." Holden grabs the microphone from the stand and holds the head of it to his chest. The unsteady and fast-paced thumping of his heartbeat echoes through the room before Holden takes it away. "That's how hard it was for me to do that, even though I had complete and total control over it. It's beyond my comprehension what would become of me if these videos went viral without my consent and I was blindsided instead. Makes you wonder who would be fucked up enough to make a person feel this way. Makes you wonder if you'd be strong enough to survive that. I wouldn't, but Sierra did."

I'm ugly crying. A literal, sobbing mess at this point. I keep my hand against my mouth to muffle my cries. I don't know why because everyone in the room is staring at me anyway but I'm afraid if I let go, I'll completely lose it. If it wasn't for Harper gripping my hand tight and crying just as hard as me, I'd be a heap on the floor.

"We all have skeletons in our closet and nobody except us gets to choose what we do with them and how we do it. Do you know how many boundaries had to have been crossed to put Sierra out there like that? That kind of intimate violation—do you have any idea how that would make you feel? If I ever find who did this—" He abruptly cuts himself off through gritted teeth, shaking his head in palpable anger.

Meanwhile, my chest aches to the point of pain. For weeks I've been battling this alone and I know it was my choice and I'm even proud that I got through it, proved to myself that I have what it takes, but I can't deny the utter relief I feel that someone has my back. That Holden has my back. That he's standing up there right now, standing up for me. And if I ever had a doubt that he saw me as less, or weak, or not good enough, there's no way I could have that now. There's no way I could doubt him or the way he feels about me.

"You want to know who did this?" Everyone turns at the sound of Mason's voice, who's looking at Holden with a curved brow. "Could have just asked."

He swipes the phone out of Victoria's hand and stands up. She shrieks and jumps after him, demanding that he give it back. She reaches an arm up to grab it but Mason holds it out of her reach. I blink at him. What the hell is he doing?

"Mase?" Holden asks.

"You have a choice right now." Though Mason speaks in a low voice, he can be heard throughout the whole room that's gone silent watching this unfold. He levels Victoria with a cold stare that makes her shrink back. "Say it yourself or I say it for you. Don't think I won't. I never learned how to be the bigger person."

Victoria's eyes jump around the room. Everyone is staring at her and she practically curls into herself. She looks nervously at her friend who's flat-out ignoring her and refusing to take part in her fall. Victoria squares her shoulders back, a false brave face that I don't believe for a second.

"Fine," She snips. "It was me. I leaked the photos."

Murmurs follow her confession and my heart drops to my stomach. I had my suspicions but hearing her admit it is something else entirely. I don't know if I'm more pissed or relieved that the truth is out. One one hand, I can put this behind me and not have to wonder how everything fell apart. But on the other hand...why? Why did she have to go and do something so awful? I barely said two words to her.

Mason looks over her with an unimpressed expression then faces his brother. He tosses the phone to him and Holden catches it easily. "It's all there. Who she contacted for the pictures on Facebook, the tabloids she sent them to, a couple of fake Twitter accounts she used to troll the comments. Happy birthday, brother."

"You're an asshole." She pushes his chest with a growl.

Mason's lip curls. "Don't flatter me like that."

"Mase." Holden's no bullshit tone stops any argument. His jaw grinds when he looks at Victoria. "You get the phone back when you apologize. Right here, in front of everyone. Let's see how much you like the public eye when it's on you."

Holy cupcake. I have to duck my head so no one can see my grin. Am I a bad person for sort, kind of, maybe enjoying this?

"It finally happened," Harper whispers in my ear. She sounds starstruck. "I think I'm finally in love with boss-man. I see what you all see. I so see it."

So I'm definitely not the only one enjoying this then. I cover my mouth to smother a laugh.

"I'm sorry." I hear Victoria say. When I look at her, she's pinning Holden with a glare.

"Not to me," He throws back. "You don't want to fuck with me right now. Get it done."

Her nostrils flare and when her eyes finally connect with mine, they're practically blazing. As if this is all my fault. I raise a brow right back in silent challenge. I'm so fucking done with bullies.

"I'm sorry you're so fucking sensitive," She snaps. "Apparently nobody knows how to take a joke anymore."

"Tell that to all the guys that take you," Mason deadpans and Victoria's mouth falls open. Snickers and hoots invade the room while Mason gestures a hand to the door. "Get out. Don't come near my family again."

His family? He meets my eyes then, briefly, and looks away. He meant me. My chest does a little flutter. The Rey brothers might be the biggest assholes on the planet but they're who you want on your team when the whole world is burning down.

Holden tosses the phone back to Mason and he gives it to Victoria with a blank face. He's already over her and it makes this situation even funnier. Victoria grabs the phone from him and stomps away, raising a middle finger when Sawyer starts clapping loudly in her ear and following her out the door. Beside me I'm pretty sure I hear Harper murmur, "Shit. I think I'm in love with him too."

Then she's gone and everyone is clapping. Everyone is clapping and staring because Holden is bounding off the stage and heading straight for me. I stand up on legs that are shaky from adrenaline and somehow manage to meet him halfway without falling over. He grabs my hand once he's close enough and guides me away from the crowd. We pass through a darkened hallway, hand in hand, and leave the sound of applause and cheers fading behind us.

Holden rounds the corner where the exit is. Instead of taking us outside, he pushes me against the dark wall, angles my head back, and crushes his lips to mine.

My arms wind around his neck to pull him closer. I savour the taste of him because I was so convinced I would never have this again. Have him. He kisses me desperately and I kiss him back just as hard, barely keeping up with the way his lips open and close over mine with carnal need. I can't even breathe but I don't need to. All I need is him.

We separate after what feels like hours and seconds all at once. I go up on my tip-toes to press my forehead to his, not wanting anymore distance.

"What you did for me..." My voice cracks, comes down to a whisper. "Showing everyone your injury...you didn't have to do that."

He grips my face. forces me back just enough so that our eyes meet. "You know what I'm going to say to that."

I lift a sheepish shoulder. "When I run, you run?"

"I'm in love with you." His eyes do that damn glint. "But that's a close second."

"Huh?" I croak. Did he just say what I think he just said? Because I'm getting a migraine from all the crying so it's entirely possible I'm hallucinating right now.

His head dips until his mouth meets mine in a gentle kiss. Then he whispers against my lips, "I love you, Shortcake. Every crazy, messy inch of you."

I search his eyes in disbelief, voice quiet and small. A little afraid. "Really? You really love me?"

"I really love you," He confirms and swipes his thumbs over my cheeks. "It was the cake you made me the first day we met. You've kind of been irresistible since."

Something like a laugh and sob tumbles out of me. "It was all part of my master plan."

"It was a good one."

I link my fingers through his and try to smile despite my trembling lips. "I really love you too. And I'm sorry that I stepped away from our relationship. What happened to me wasn't your fault, Holden. You know that, right?"

"I know," He agrees. "And I was never embarrassed when the pictures went viral. I had no reason to be. You've always been beautiful, and I've always wanted you for who you are. You know that, right?"

"I know," I whisper because I do. I believe the way he sees me and somewhere along the way I learned to see myself that way too. "Does that mean you'll give me another chance that I probably don't deserve? I'll make it up to you. We'll schedule a mouth fucking, like, ASAP."

He chuckles, grabbing me by the waist and lifting me up. My legs go around him instinctively as he pushes me against the wall and watches me with those sexy eyes I've missed so damn much.

"Only if I get to return the favour." His grin is all kinds of wicked and promising.

I bump his nose with mine and, okay—maybe my smile is full of trouble too. "Game on, Satan."

__________________________

A/N

Bow down to the fucking Rey brothers!!! We love to see it holy shit.

Also, did your heart just break and melt after what Holden did or what?! His backstory has me sobbing. It truly hurts so hard especially because it's so personal to me. OCD runs genetically in my family. Both my father and brother are clinically diagnosed and even my four year old nephew is showing symptoms already. I've seen first-hand how it can affect your life in a brutal way, to the point where it controls and breaks you. Seriously, when will I ever write a book that doesn't have a piece of my soul in it somewhere, lol.

Anyways, back to happier chapters! That declaration of love by Holden??? Something about "I'm in love with you" is so much sweeter than "I love you." These two are perfect. They have my fucking heart.

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Happy Reading :)