Chapter 28 Marry You One Day
MARRY YOU ONE DAY
Holt pulls up to the group site next to Ricky’s mom’s minivan. He’s already got the hatch open, and the seats folded down. There’s a full bed made up in the back and Ricky is standing with his hands on his hips, appraising the finished result of his hard work.
I slide from the passenger side of Holt’s truck, moving to take a better look at Ricky’s handiwork.
He throws his arm around my shoulders and waves his free hand to the spread of blankets and pillows.
“Welcome to mi casa,” he says grandly. When Holt appears beside us, he taunts, “If you weren’t with the idiot, you could be with me. You’re missing out, you know. We could have this thing rocking all night long.”
Holt flicks Ricky’s arm from around my shoulder, pulling me close. His grin is stretched wide, though, when he flashes it at me as though to say, ‘who is the actual idiot?’
Ricky sighs. “Guess I’m gonna have to find myself another taker.”
“Ew.” I scrunch my nose, but I can’t help the laugh that follows when utter devastation paints Ricky’s expression.
“Yo,” Elijah calls from the campsite. “That fool tryina steal your girl?”
“Nothing to try,” Holt calls back. “She’ll always be mine.”
Warmth spreads in my belly, but I laugh again. Giving Holt a gentle push toward his truck, I say, “Let’s get unpacked.”
Holt grabs the tent from the box of the truck and walks into the clearing. His eyes scan the space before he starts for a nook in the trees that would be perfect for his tent. He starts to pull pieces from the bag, and I’m ready to help when Elijah and Micha stroll over.
“We’ll help,” Elijah says.
“You guys know my Dad owns an outdoor gear shop, right? I’m fully capable of setting up a tent.”
All three guys ignore me, but I don’t miss the little grin Holt flashes me.
Andy and Shy move close. In full ear shot of everyone, Andy says, “I’m ditching you guys.”
“What?” My eyes swing to her.
“I’m going to stay with Micha in his tent.”
“Oh. Okay, cool.”
Shy nudges me with her elbow. “You can stay with Holt.”
I swear the sun gets hotter. Holt stands and pulls his shirt off, tucking it in the back pocket of his jeans as usual. Micha and Elijah follow suit and we’re suddenly looking at a lot of muscles.
I swallow hard then clear my throat. “I can’t leave you alone.”
“I won’t be alone,” Shy says confidently. I swear, I see Elijah tense.
Andy sees it too, because she taunts loudly, “Are you going to take Ricky up on his offer to—” Andy air quotes. “Rock his van?”
Elijah’s dark eyes land on Shy over his shoulder and the extra heat I felt moments ago gets even hotter, because the look he gives her is one of warning. And it’s extra hot.
“No.” Shy twirls blonde hair around her finger, but her eyes are fixed on Elijah. “I’ll get Elijah to make some room for me in his tent.”
I’m not mistaking when I see Elijah’s shoulders fall in relief. He’s mostly a pretty quiet guy, but I’ve been noticing something brewing between him and Shy for a while now, so this isn’t surprising to me. And he did punch Kevin when he broke Shy’s heart by kissing Jenna.
Although the guys have all gotten over it, and Kevin is friends with almost everyone again, Shy hasn’t forgiven Jenna.
I don’t think she ever will. In her mind, a friend doesn’t do what Jenna did.
I agree, hands down. It’s not like she’s forgiven Kevin, either.
Like I said, Shy could teach a masterclass in holding a grudge.
“What? Nobody loves Ricky?” We turn to find Ricky with his arms spread wide. There’s a wounded expression painted on his face, but his eyes are laughing. Although he would have happily taken any one of us for a rock-session in his mom’s van, he’s totally cool with being alone.
I actually think Ricky prefers it. He’s handsome in a shaggy kind of way, so he can get a girl. He just doesn’t keep them. He’s a go-with-the-flow guy. The never serious guy. The one who is most likely to flip-flop jobs, perfectly happy in his life lacking any and all ambition.
We love him anyway. He’s Ricky. And although he’s lacking ambition, he’s got a massive heart. If someone needed it, he’d be the first to give you the shirt right off his back. He’s that kind of guy.
As a mini herd, we all crown Ricky for a girly group hug that he one thousand percent soaks up.
“Come, my harem,” Ricky starts to move the huddle of us to where the firepit stands. “I shall build you a fire to keep you warm lest the neanderthals try to seal you away from me.”
We giggle and fall into chairs around the pit. Ricky shoves his hand into the pocket of his baggy jeans to retrieve a joint. He lights it and takes a pull.
Andy pouts. “I thought you were going to build us a fire.”
He takes another pull on the joint, and the embers flare. He points to the burning red as he hands it to Andy. Trying to hold the smoke in, he grunts, “Fire.”
Andy rolls her eyes and shakes her head. Shy reaches for the joint and takes a small pull. I think Elijah frowns.
She doesn’t even bother offering it to me before she gives it back to Ricky. I stand and start gathering kindling for the fire. I’m starving and need a fire to cook the hot dogs.
I’ve assembled my kindling and paper hut just the way Dad taught me when Holt hooks me around my waist. He lifts me and deposits me in a chair before he flexes his muscles.
Teasing eyes land on Ricky as he boasts, “Time to show little Rick how real men care for their women.”
Ricky sits back in his chair, waving a hand to the pit. “I’m all eyes, Rocky. Give me a show.”
Micha snorts as he taps Andy’s thigh for her to stand. He takes her chair and pulls her into his lap, nuzzling her neck.
Holt poses for Ricky, flexing his arms, then his back. We’re all laughing when he finally sets to finishing what I started, lighting the fire.
We laugh and talk and tease. We cook hot dogs and eat, and Ricky opens a bag of chips. He’s going to have the munchies all weekend, without a doubt.
Holt’s hand falls on my knee. “We should probably make our bed.”
I look up at the sky. It’s not as bright as it was when we arrived, but it’s getting dark, and Holt is right. We should make our bed.
I follow Holt to his truck and pluck out the rolled up sleeping bags. He grabs an air mattress and starts to pump it up as I carry everything across the site to Holt’s tent. Our tent.
I guess Mom was right when she assumed I’d be sharing a tent with Holt. I’d thought about it, of course. I’d wanted to. But it hadn’t been the plan. It hadn’t been the plan because I couldn’t make myself ditch Shy.
Now that she was making moves on Elijah—I’m free to be with Holt.
Be with Holt. Heat floods me because that can mean a lot of things. It could mean sex.
I kind of want it to mean sex.
And that has me freaking out.
Not because I’m not ready but because it’s a big deal. A huge deal. I thought I would be more prepared.
“You good?” Holt asks as he stops with the air mattress outside the tent where I stand.
I don’t trust myself to speak, so I just nod. But Holt knows me.
His espresso eyes are soft when he murmurs low, “We won’t do anything you’re not ready for, okay?”
I nod. “Okay.”
He mirrors my nod with one of his own before he slips into the tent. Once the mattress is in position, Holt calls, “Pass me the sleeping bags and pillows.”
I do as I’m asked and enter the tent to help him make the bed. He only makes one, zipping the suitcases together.
I clear my throat and ask, “What are you ready for, Holt?”
His eyes come to me. That muscle in his jaw jumps as he contemplates his answer. When he speaks, his voice is filled with gravel in a way I’ve never heard it.
“I’m ready for everything, Faye. But I don’t want to pressure you.” When I don’t respond and don’t meet his eyes, Holt hooks me around my belly and wrestles me to the bed we just made. I let a little shriek loose as he positions his body half over mine.
He’s smiling, but there’s only raw honesty in his voice when he tells me, “I might be ready, but I’m perfectly happy just being with you. Just holding you and kissing you.”
His eyes drop to my mouth when I smile a shaky smile. I don’t know why I’m so nervous.
This means everything to me. Being with him means everything to me.
“I love you, Holt.”
He grins down at me. His hand finds mine and he thumbs the rose quartz of the ring he bought me for my birthday last year. The one Tate delivered because Holt was away in Nashville at a hockey tournament.
His eyes roam my face as his thumb continues running over the ring I wear. “I’m going to marry you, one day, Faye Foster.”
Everything inside me pauses. My soul takes a snapshot of this moment that I know I will forever keep tucked safely away in the most treasured box of my memories.
“Promise?”
“Yeah, baby. I promise.”