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I Was Supposed to Marry One Holloway Heir. Why Do Both Want Me？
Novelix
Completed
I'm 192 pounds, and everyone at Aldworth hates me. So why do both Holloway heirs want me? I come to Aldworth as Alistair's fake fiancée. He's polished and perfect. Then I meet his older brother, Kieran. He's rough, muscular, and rebellious. The campus forum blows up with one question: Which Holloway heir will she end up with? But here's the thing: I don't want to be anyone's pity choice. So I walk away from both of them. Five years later, I come back. I'm still Tate Jennings. I just don't need a Holloway heir to make me feel like I'm worth choosing.
Chapters (2)
第1章
I'm five-four and 192 pounds.
One day, a woman in an expensive suit introduces herself as Mrs. Holloway and hands me a contract.
"Sign this, and you'll become my heir's wife."
My grandfather needs surgery, so I sign it.
Three days later, I walk into the Holloway estate and realize there's one problem.
The Holloways don't have one heir.
They have two.
Alistair Holloway, the golden heir. Tall, lean, perfect grades, student government president.
Kieran Holloway, the other heir. Taller, broader, heavily muscled from years of boxing.
Girls all over campus stuff their lockers with love letters, and neither of them cares.
And they both fall for me.
--
My name is Tate Jennings. Nineteen. Five-four. A hundred and ninety-two pounds.
I've always been strong. Freakishly strong. The kind of strength that makes people uncomfortable instead of impressed.
I learned to hide it when I was little. At school, I got good at pretending I couldn't lift something when everyone else was struggling with it.
I also got used to ignoring the way people stared at me like my body was public property.
What girl doesn't dream of being delicate? The kind of girl some boy can pick up and carry like she weighs nothing?
Then, one Saturday, everything changes.
A black sedan loses control and comes barreling straight toward my dad's restaurant.
Through the window, I can see the restaurant is packed.
Dad is carrying a fresh pan of his famous slow-cooked ribs to a table.
I don't think. I throw myself in front of the car and slam both hands onto the hood.
Tires scream against the pavement. Two paving stones crack under my feet. The car stops less than two feet from the storefront.
Through the windshield, an old woman sits in the back seat, white-haired and trembling.
The next morning, she walks into Jennings' Grill.
"Tate." She sets down her cup. "What if I offered you a different life?"
"My grandson needs a fiancée. One year."
The older Mrs. Holloway slides a contract across the table.
"For one year, you'll go with him to family events and public functions and keep up appearances."
"In return, the Holloway family covers your grandfather's medical bills in full, purchases the building your father's restaurant sits in, and pays for the rest of your time at Aldworth University."
Dad's knuckles go white around his coffee mug.
Grandpa's surgery can't wait. The restaurant is three months behind on rent.
My acceptance letter from Aldworth is sitting on my nightstand, and I can't even afford the housing deposit.
I read every line of that contract.
"Deal."
Mrs. Holloway smiles.
"But I have one condition," I say.
She raises an eyebrow.
"Can you throw in health insurance too? Doctor visits are expensive, and I'd really like to be covered if I get sick."
Under the table, Dad stomps on my foot.
Mrs. Holloway laughs out loud.
That Sunday night, I haul two suitcases up the steps to the Holloway family's estate. The Holloways had arranged for me to live here instead of in the dorms.
The driver offers to help. I tell him I'm fine.
The second I set them down, one of the wheels pops off and goes rolling into the flower bed.
The front door opens.
Alistair Holloway stands there in a white button-down, the second button undone and his hair still damp. His sharp jaw, high cheekbones, and cold eyes make me feel like I've already wasted his time.
He looks me over, from my round face to the shirt stretched tight across my waist, then down to the broken suitcase handle in my hand.
"What did the suitcase do to you?"
"It looked expensive. I got nervous."
He pauses, like he doesn't expect me to talk back.
"Three rules." His voice goes flat. "First, don't touch me when no one's watching. Second, don't call me your fiancé when the family's not around. Third, don't mistake any of this for love."
He turns to walk inside, then stops.
"My grandmother has never arranged a fiancée for me before. She didn't even consider Serena Wynn."
He looks back at me, his expression cold.
"So what exactly is so special about you?"
I look down at myself.
My loose T-shirt can't hide my thick arms, and my thighs are squeezed tight in my jeans.
I feel like I've shown up to a black-tie party in a hoodie and sneakers.
What's so special about me?
Maybe the fact that I'm spectacularly fat.
第2章
That night, the housekeeper hands me a small silver pill case.
"Alistair has a congenital heart condition that affects his heart rhythm. Emotional stress can trigger an episode. He doesn't like taking his medication, so Mrs. Holloway wants you to keep an eye on him."
She pauses at the door and lowers her voice.
"It's gotten worse since he and Miss Wynn broke up two years ago."
So that's what this is.
They don't pick me to be a fiancée. Turns out, they pick me to be a glorified bodyguard.
The next morning is my first day at Aldworth.
I haven't even set foot on campus yet, and my name is already everywhere.
The restaurant owner's fat daughter. The girl getting through college on the Holloways' money. Alistair Holloway's mystery fiancée who shows up out of nowhere.
And, of course, the girl who steals Serena Wynn's spot.
Serena Wynn is campus royalty.
She's one of the cheerleaders, always surrounded by people, and everyone at Aldworth knows her as Alistair Holloway's great love, torn apart by his family.
With their looks and grades, they seem practically made for each other.
Then there's me.
When I show up to pick up my workout gear, the girl behind the counter stares at the size chart for a solid thirty seconds.
"Huh. Thought the 4XL would never get claimed."
A few people nearby laugh.
I grab my gear, pick up a campus map, and figure I'll walk around before classes start.
Then it starts pouring.
I duck into the first building I can find. It turns out to be the boxing club's gym.
Fists thud against heavy bags, and the smell of rubber and sweat hangs thick in the damp air.
A guy is training alone inside.
He wears a black tank top that shows off his shoulders and back, with both hands wrapped in tape and a faint scar across his brow. He's just finished a round, his damp hair pushed back from his forehead.
If Alistair is the polished type, the face you'd see on a student council campaign poster, this guy is the opposite.
All muscle and trouble, the kind of presence that makes you want to step back and stare at the same time.
He's rewrapping his hands when he looks up. Across the dim gym, his eyes find mine.
My heart slams against my ribs.
That's strange. Why does he feel so familiar?
"Lost?" His voice is low, still a little breathless from the round.
"Just waiting out the rain."
“The gym isn't open right now.”
"Oh. Right. I'll go."
I press a hand to my chest and turn to leave.
Behind me, a sharp metallic snap cuts through the air.
The chain holding up one of the heavy bags breaks clean off.
A two-hundred-pound heavy bag swings down toward a guy crouching by the equipment rack.
My body moves before my brain catches up.
I lunge forward and catch the torn strap with both hands.
The bag jerks to a stop in midair, less than four inches from the back of his skull.
The broken chain swings overhead with a sharp clank.
Then a taped hand closes over the strap next to mine, steadying the weight.
He's right beside me, his palm hot against mine.
"Let go." His voice drops. "I've got it."
"I'm fine."
I swing the bag back onto its hook. My student ID slips out of my shirt pocket and lands at his feet.
He bends down and picks it up.
"Tate Jennings."
He looks at me, then up at the bag. The surprise on his face fades, and the corner of his mouth lifts like he's just figured something out.
"Alistair's fiancée?"
He steps closer, his breath warm against my face. The dangerous edge in him suddenly shifts into something playful.
"Let me introduce myself, fiancée."
"I'm Kieran Holloway, Alistair's older brother."
