KORIE
Afew days have passed since Holden took me to dinner. I refuse to call it a date, because that word is just a little too perfect for what it was supposed to be. I mean, what even was that?
I expected to see him stumble, make some obvious mistakes, forget to open a door for me. But no. Holden was… well, he was what he always is, only better.
I wasn’t prepared to enjoy it as much as I did. I never enjoy dating. Tell me again why I stopped?
Since that night, I’ve only received a couple of random one-line messages from Holden, but that’s not unusual. Work often consumes our time. We can go days without talking. But every empty inbox is strangely uncomfortable now. I miss him.
When I finish my shift at the end of the week, my brain feels like it has been sanded down to nothing. I’m exhausted, and I need rest. I lean back against the counter in the imaging room for a second, flexing my fingers like that’ll shake the day out of them.
“Hey, Korie?”
I glance up.
The leading nurse practitioner for this floor, Trey, stands in the doorway holding a chart in one hand.
He’s still in his dark blue scrubs, and his hair is doing that thing where it looks accidentally styled even though I know he didn’t try.
The guy is wickedly handsome. If he wasn’t so shy, he’d probably have a partner.
“I’ve got a walk-in for you,” he says, his voice timid. “Older man, in his sixties. Says his knees are bugging him.”
“What’s your best guess?”
“Arthritis.”
“Got it.”
We step into the hallway together, the low buzz of activity wrapping around us—distant voices, echoing footsteps, indistinguishable beeping. It’s busy as usual, but not overwhelming. Just enough movement to keep things flowing and keep time passing. Thirty more minutes, and I’ll be out of here.
When we reach the room, Trey pauses, lowering his voice to a soft whisper. “He’s grieving, by the way. His wife passed a few months ago.”
My heart sinks. I always appreciate the insight before meeting my patients. “Thanks.”
As he disappears down the hall, I glance at the chart for the patient’s name and push the door open. The man sits on the exam table, his rounded belly pulling his shirt tight. His forlorn expression stabs me right in the chest.
“Hey, Richard,” I say, keeping my voice easy. “I’m Korie.”
The man’s attention skates over my polished face in a familiar, curious way. I brace for a quiet rejection—a note of confusion or outward sign of disapproval—but to my surprise, it doesn’t come. He just watches me as I prep the room.
“My supervisor tells me your knees are bothering you.” I give him a smile. “Let’s see if we can find out why.”
I move through the process slowly, explaining each step. Richard’s movements are stiff and overly cautious. “Are you nervous?” I ask gently. “It’s okay if you are. I promise everything will be fine.”
“I just hate coming to these places,” he says finally, spinning the ring on his left hand. “They haven’t felt the same since my SaraAnn died. She always made them easy, you know.”
Easy.
Last weekend had been easy.
I mentally kick my useless brain and shove the thought aside. Of course it was easy when the stakes weren’t very high. It was fake! All of it.
So why am I still thinking about it?
I help Richard lie on the table. “How long were you married?”
“Forty-seven years.”
“Wow, I’m so sorry.”
I coax him into telling me about their last trip together. The vivid language he uses paints breathtaking pictures of faraway vistas and romantic walks through Italian vineyards. I pause to absorb it.
“That sounds like quite a life together.”
“It was,” he says dreamily. “But it still wasn’t long enough.”
His grief twists around me painfully. I squeeze his hand.
Richard gets a faraway look in his eyes, his voice lowering. “She was my best friend. Never thought I’d live without her.”
Without warning, Holden’s face flashes in my mind, all blond hair and soft blue eyes. Suddenly, I can relate to Richard. What if losing Holden felt like that? The ache is enough to suck the air from my lungs.
I can’t imagine my life without my best friend either.
When the scans are over, I help Richard out of the room, give a few last instructions, then slip down to the nurses’ station to sneak a mint from the bowl. The red and white stripes remind me of the awning outside the candle shop, and I catch myself smiling.
“Oh, my God. You need to stop,” I mutter under my breath, scrubbing my face.
“Korie?”
I turn around. Trey is watching me with eyebrows raised and an amused expression on his face. “Talking to yourself again?”
“Always,” I say dryly.
He steps closer. “End of shift hitting you hard?”
“Something like that.”
He studies me for a second, as if cataloguing something. Trey’s good at seeing things. Maybe too good. It’s how he got the job.
I dodge the question before he has a chance to ask it again. “I’m fine. Just tired. It’s been a long week.”
He finally relaxes. “You heading out soon?”
“Yup. Just finishing up actually.”
He glances down the hall, then back at me. The tips of his ears turn pink. “Do you have plans tonight?”
“Nothing aside from losing some brain cells to games on my phone. Might watch some TV.”
Trey smiles weakly. “Living the dream.”
“Exactly.”
He hesitates. “I could… take you to dinner? If you’re up for it, I mean.”
The question lands softer than it should, making my heart flutter. There’s no pressure in it, almost like it could pass as a not-date if I wanted it to. But his intention is clear.
For a moment, I imagine myself saying yes. I enjoy Trey’s company. He’s kind, and he’s always respected me. But that’s as far as it goes. There’s no pull. No curiosity. Nothing… more.
“Thanks, but I really think I need a break tonight.”
His shoulders sag. “I see. Maybe a rain check?”
“Sure.” I only say it to be nice. Not because I mean it. I can see myself on another fake date with Holden more easily than I can see myself on a real one with Trey.
And I’m not sure what that says about me.
He steps away. “Alright. Get home safe then.”
“You too.”
I watch him go for a second, then grab my bag and head out.
Cooking is the last thing I want to do after a long few days, so I swing by my favorite pizza joint on the way home.
The sign glows warm against the darkening sky, the windows fogged slightly from the heat inside.
It’s not fancy, or even trendy. Just a little hole-in-the-wall brick oven takeout pizza parlor that has really damn good pizza.
I push the door open, and the smell hits me immediately—smoke, melted cheese, garlic. It wraps around me like a blanket.
“Hey, Korie!” Drew calls from behind the counter. We know each other by name thanks to my frequent visits. “Your usual?”
Usual as in surprise me. Because I really will eat pretty much anything.
“You know it.”
He points to me. “You got it. I’ll have it out soon.”
“No rush.”
After paying, I step to the side, leaning against the wall while I wait. Someone else is here, scrolling on their phone, and the noise coming from it grates on my nerves. Use some headphones!
Pulling my phone out, I hover over the screen, and because my brain apparently hates me, I think about Holden again.
About the way he’d leaned against me on the hood of his car, fading sunlight catching in his golden hair. How he’d looked at me when I explained why I stopped dating. The deep ache in his eyes as he finally understood. The way his arm felt around me…
Why had that felt so different from all the other times he’d held me?
I close my eyes and exhale slowly.
Holden has always tried to understand me, even when others don’t. He always sees me. Which is exactly why it’s dangerous to think about him so much.
We both know the fake in the fake date is as real as it’ll ever be for us. There isn’t a future there. There can’t be. We’re too… intertwined. There’s too much history. Too many shared moments and too many versions of each other layered over who we are now.
I mean, we’re basically family.
Ew, no! I do not think of Holden as family. But we may as well be. We grew up together.
So why does it feel like something… changed?
I swipe to unlock my phone, opening a game to numb my mind. I’m only vaguely aware of my surroundings when a voice cuts through the fog and makes me look up.
“Nah, man, I’m telling you, pineapple belongs on pizza.”
I grin and step away from the wall.
“You’re just wrong,” Drew says.
Holden’s shit-eating grin tells me he’s amused, like he’s having this argument for the hundredth time. Drew is dishing it right back, too.
“Oh, pineapple definitely belongs on pizza,” I cut in.
Holden whips his head around, and a huge grin spreads over his face. Just for a second, time freezes. Is that relief in his eyes?
He reaches for me, pulling me in for a quick side hug.
“See? At least this one has sense,” he says to Drew.
Drew cackles.
Holden finishes paying, then we step to the side to wait for our orders. I’m surprised by how casual it is, like we didn’t just spend last weekend pretending to be something we aren’t.
“Hey.” He’s still grinning.
“Hey,” I echo.
“Did you just get off work?”
“Yup. I’m exhausted too. It’s been a long week already.”
Holden hesitates. “You wanna come back to my place for a bit?”
The invitation would’ve been an easy decision on any other night. It even sounds fun. Something we do literally all the time. But something in me pauses, recalling the warmth of his arm around my shoulders.
“No, I think I need some rest. I really am worn out.”
His expression falls. “Oh. Okay.”
“How about you? You just getting off too?”
“Yeah. It was a late night at the gym.” He groans. “I’m so over these kids’ summer camps, let me tell you.”
I snicker. “You sure loved them when we were kids, though.”
Holden seems pleased by the memory, but shakes his head. “It’s different being on the other side of it. Nine hours of constant shouting and chaos?” He drops his head back, as if in agony.
I playfully punch his arm. “You’re doing great, though. It’s already July, which means summer break is half over.”
“Yeah, I guess. I just miss the quiet, you know. When I could actually get up on the walls between customers.”
“You want to climb?”
It’s a stupid question. It’s like asking if the sky is blue. And he has that subtle tension in his shoulders, like things are getting to him.
Holden doesn’t just want to climb. He needs to.
He just shrugs without answering.
“Well, why don’t we go soon? You and me.” The words slip from me faster than I can process, but it’s too late to take them back. Besides, I like climbing. It’ll be fun. And it’ll give me a chance to see him again.
My heart flutters. Shit, what is going on with me?
“I’d like that. When can you go?”
“Um, Sunday, maybe?”
He shakes his head. “I work in the morning, but maybe Sunday evening?”
“Sure, if you’re still up for it after your shift. Just text me.”
“Oh, I’ll be up for it.” He flexes his hands, his mind somewhere far away. He definitely needs this.
“Alright. I’ll be there.”
“Yeah?”
“Of course. Sounds fun.”
A few minutes later, my name gets called. I step forward, grab my box, then turn back to Holden.
“I’ll see you Sunday then?”
He briefly taps my back. “Bye, Kor.”
At home, the silence is less welcoming than I expected. It’s almost grating, even with Aris trying to fill the space with her chirps and endless energy. I’m restless, despite feeling like I need sleep.
Reaching for my phone, I text Holden.
Me: What are you doing?
Holden: Pigging out on perfect pieces of pineapple pizza.
Me: There were way too many P words in that sentence.
Holden: You’re just jealous of my brilliance.
Me: Mmm… no.
Holden: What are you doing?
Me: Salivating over salacious slices of salami, spicy sausage, and sliced olives over shredded cheese and perfectly seasoned tomato sauce.
Holden sends me a string of laughing emojis. You win.
Me: I always win.
My phone rings, and I swipe to answer his call. As soon as I do, he requests to video chat. I accept, propping my phone up on the couch.
“This is easier than texting with greasy fingers,” Holden says, sitting back on his couch. “Oh, I talked to Caleb today.”
“Yeah? How’s he doing?”
“He wanted my opinion on something.”
I tilt my head. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, he’s just considering a position change at work. Thought I might have some advice about talking to his boss, since I’ve asked for promotions a couple of times.”
Asked and received. His most recent promotion was after his trip to Wyoming. Holden isn’t afraid of going after the things he wants. Including dates.
The thought unsettles me.
“Anyway, he said he’s coming home for Christmas.”
“Christmas?” I choke. “That’s six months away!”
“I know.” Holden’s sadness reaches me easily through the line. He’s never been super close to Caleb, but close enough that the distance bothers him. “I might take a weekend and go see him or something.”
“You should.”
“Come with me?”
The invitation slips out so easily I doubt he actually thought about it. But why would he? We’ve taken trips together before. So why would this be any different?
“It would depend on if I can get time off from work.”
I reach for my soda, cracking it open, then pull up Survivor on my TV, more out of habit than anything.
Holden and I have watched all the episodes, and even have a few of them memorized.
When he hears the familiar opening tune, Holden grins and reaches for his remote.
We watch the newest episode together, and to my surprise, he doesn’t try to fill the space with conversation.
We rarely make it through a movie or TV without talking.
It makes me miss him. Why didn’t I go back to his place?
“I really should go,” he says, stifling a yawn.
“Yeah, okay.”
“But I’ll see you Sunday?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there.”
We hang up, and the warmth of the phone settles into my fingertips. Dropping my head back, I close my eyes and bite back a curse. What is wrong with me? Why am I suddenly aching for more time with Holden? I’ve never been this way.
Richard’s deeply pained voice comes to mind. Still, it wasn’t long enough.
I rub my chest. This is exactly why I don’t date. It makes me examine things too closely. See things that aren’t really there. It’s confusing and messy and just… no.
I don’t want this—least of all with Holden. So why am I feeling this way?
I don’t want to date anyone.
I don’t want Holden.
I don’t.
… Do I?