13. KORIE
KORIE
It takes two weeks for Holden to finalize his plans for our… date. Fake date? Shit, I don’t even know.
I don’t know why I agreed to it either, except that a tug in my heart was begging me to lean in. Trust.
Now, the date is set, and the X on my calendar is glaring at me like a notification. Or a warning.
I’m trying desperately not to think about it all. If I do, I worry, or just… freak out. I mean, what is even happening? Holden and I… dating?
He picks me up on a Saturday afternoon, dressed nicely in khaki shorts and a red shirt that I know he didn’t buy for himself. Is Hattie in on this? No, of course not. She’d be pestering me with texts and phone calls every day if she knew something was happening between us.
Holden drives us to an outdoor amphitheater just outside of San Diego. “Come on.”
He grabs a large, fluffy comforter from the trunk and carefully hides something underneath it as we walk inside. The attendant scans our tickets on Holden’s phone, then we continue on toward the grassy area near the stage.
Saying nothing, he crouches to unfold the blanket, taking his time to flatten out the edges.
The late afternoon light is catching in his hair like it always does—little flecks of gold hidden in the blond.
I’ve always loved Holden’s hair, even envied his natural highlights.
It’s so much prettier than my natural dull brown, which is why I dye it.
I turn slightly to look around, nerves bubbling up inside me.
There is still a part of me that doesn’t believe this is real.
A part of me that is screaming to run. Not because I don’t want to be here—that’s the problem.
I want this too much. How did I go from not wanting to date to wanting this so bad my heart aches?
Will it still be fake?
It can be, if you want it to be.
Ugh. What kind of answer is that? He lost fifty points and he doesn’t even know it.
But this? Holy crap, this is winning all them back and then some…
I turn slowly, taking in the large trees lining the back of the amphitheater, the brightly colored flowers along the paths, the tiered, reserved seating areas. It’s all so beautiful.
Maybe it’s a good thing he didn’t give me a clear answer.
If he had, I would’ve found a reason to back out.
Because the truth is, both answers—real or fake—feel equally dangerous.
One means risking something new with someone who means everything to me.
The other means wanting something I can’t have. It’s terrifying.
I don’t know what to think. Holden and I once walked on solid ground.
I knew exactly where things stood with our friendship.
But now, it’s like I’m balancing on a knife, and no matter which way I lean, I’m going to end up hurt.
Old habits are kicking in, and an awareness I wish I didn’t have keeps screaming at me, dragging my attention away from the moment. I’m trying to tame it.
What matters is we’re here, and it’s already blowing my expectations—my hopes—out of the water.
Shifting my weight, I scuff my sandals lightly in the grass.
Holden struggles to flatten the last corner of the soft blue quilt. When he finally does, he looks up at me with an exasperated huff. I nearly chuckle. It’s like he fought a dragon for me or something.
Then again, for Holden, this is a hero’s journey. I just never imagined I’d be the prize.
He holds a hand out to me. “Join me?”
As I sit, I’m suddenly very aware of everything—my soft dress brushing my legs, my anklet catching in the sun, the slow way Holden’s gaze flicks over me and lingers just a second too long.
That gaze hits entirely different from other men I’ve dated. So, so very different.
“Why are we so early?” I gesture to the nearly empty seating areas.
Holden laughs nervously. “I wanted to make sure we got a good spot.”
We’ve come here before—many times. But not here. Not in this section. Usually, we buy the cheapest tickets available, far enough from the stage where we have to pretend to hear anything.
But this is close. Close enough that we’ll actually be able to see the actors’ expressions or admire their costumes.
Holden brought me close enough to feel like I’m part of it, because he knows I love this kind of thing.
The biggest plus is that this section is shaded. It means we won’t roast since it’ll be a billion degrees today. Good thing I wore the dress.
I smooth it down, feeling strangely self-conscious around him. The urge to say something, to thank him or something, is strong.
“Holden…”
He looks at me again, but there’s a hint of something almost sheepish in it. “You like it, don’t you?”
“This is—” I gesture vaguely. I can’t believe you did this. “These seats are not cheap.”
He shrugs like it’s nothing, but I catch the flicker of nerves in his eyes. It’s rare for Holden to ever truly be nervous—not like this, anyway. His voice lowers. “Figured if we were gonna do this, we should do it right.”
My heart does some unexpected gymnastics, and I look away.
Do this?
What is this?
I swallow it down.
“Well,” I say, trying to lighten the mood, “you’re definitely doing it, and winning.”
Holden grins widely. “Am I?”
“It’s definitely a win.”
“Good. ‘Cause this is just the start.”
He planned more? Dammit. That shouldn’t make my stomach swoop the way it does.
My attention drops to the dark wicker basket on the corner of the blanket. It’s one of those fancy ones with lifting panels on both sides. It must have been what he was hiding under the blanket.
My throat tightens. I expected a reusable grocery bag or something to carry our food. But Holden went all in with something that looks like it came straight out of a romance movie. I mean, where did he even get it?
Holden notices me eyeing the thing and laughs quietly. “Don’t even think about it,” he teases.
“I’m not—”
“Oh, you so are. You want to peek inside.”
I was still reeling over the pretty basket, but now that he mentions it…
I hide my smile. “I wasn’t going to.”
He nudges me lightly with his knee. “Mm-hmm. I know you, Korie. You’re dying to know what I brought.”
I squirm, stifling a giggle. “Maybe.”
He lets me hang there for all of three seconds before he caves with a dramatic sigh. “Fine. But only because I’m a generous host.”
“Host,” I repeat, snorting.
“Date. Host. Whatever.” He flips open the basket, lowering his voice again. “I’m nervous, okay? Cut me some slack.”
His confession somehow soothes me. At least I’m not the only one.
I peer inside. “Holy crap, Holden,” I breathe.
He went all out.
There’s a fresh loaf of sourdough bread wrapped in a cloth. Sliced cheeses. Strawberries. Grapes. Little containers of pasta salad and what looks like chicken. Even some of my favorite chocolate tucked into the corner.
When he lifts the other side, my eyebrows shoot to my hairline.
“You brought wine?”
He shrugs, a little self-conscious. “I didn’t know if that was… too much. There’s bottled water too.”
I huff out a laugh, shaking my head. “You’re kidding, right?”
His smile fades a little. “Is that a good reaction or—”
“Dude. You’re kicking ass,” I cut in, meaning every word. “Like, full points across the board.”
Holden’s shoulders loosen, and that grin returns, all soft and warm with unhindered desire. It stuns me. It’s something I’ve only ever seen directed toward other people. Never me.
My belly squirms.
“Well, good. Because like I said, the night’s just getting started.”
I reach for a grape. “Okay. Spill. What else do you have planned?”
“Nope. You’ll have to wait and see.”
“Holden.”
He nudges me. “Trust me.”
This playful, flirty side of Holden shouldn’t be so attractive. But it really, really is.
We eat before the play starts, stretched out on the blanket, passing things back and forth. I take my sandals off and toss them into the grass. Our hands brush just enough to make me hyper-aware of everything he’s doing.
We fall into old rhythms without even trying—joking, stealing bites off each other’s plates, arguing over which cheese is better.
I barely notice the crowd as they spread out their blankets and low-sitting lawn chairs.
A few people smile at us, others stare. I duck my face, wanting to hide. Wanting nothing to ruin the spell.
It’s impossible not to compare. In the grand scheme of things, this isn’t all that different from “before.” And yet, everything is different. Every look, every tiny touch… they all say something they never used to. They mean something.
Or at least, I think they do.
I’ve replayed that conversation in my living room a thousand times, trying to fully grasp what Holden was saying. He said he hadn’t left the store because he was uncomfortable or even turned off by me wearing the sexy lingerie. But is he really saying it was the opposite? That he… wants me?
My heart is a squishy puddle, trying to make sense of it all.
By the time the lights dim, I’m already a little floaty.
A little too aware of him sitting next to me.
But Holden shifts even closer. His thigh presses against mine, all solid and warm.
His arm stretches out behind me along the back edge of the blanket, not quite touching, but close enough that I can feel the presence of it.
I worry my lip and lean into him, testing the new boundaries. He doesn’t pull away. If anything, he settles in more, like he was waiting for it.
I turn away to hide my smile. If this were real…
The thought hits hard enough to make me suck in a quiet breath.
If this were real, I’d slide back between his legs, lean into his chest fully, and pull his arm around me.
I know I would. I’d want to feel his breath on my neck, his lips in my hair.
I’d want to be held and cherished. But I don’t know the rules anymore.
The lines we’ve had our entire lives are fading fast, and now I don’t know if there are any left.
Are we playing with something real, or are we just playing?
Because if so, we’re playing with fire.
I stay where I am. Close enough that our bodies touch, but not enough to feel his breath. Close enough to want, but not truly hold.
On stage, the cast portrays a fantastic rendition of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. We laugh in all the right places and share whispered comments about the costumes. It’s all so elegant and whimsical and just… lovely.
At intermission, Holden taps my knee lightly. “I’ll be right back.”
I nod, watching him disappear into the crowd. I’m kind of glad he left, because I need a break. My head is… fuzzy. Not only from the wine—from him.
From all of this.
It’s all just so… unexpected. I wish I knew what Holden was really thinking.
I reach for more strawberries as I look around, trying to soak it all in. The laughter bubbling through the crowd is invigorating. Tonight truly couldn’t be any better.
When Holden comes back, he drops down beside me with a small flourish, holding something behind his back.
“What did you do?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
“Pick a hand,” he says.
I grin, knowing exactly where this is going. “Your left hand.”
He reveals a box of Mike and Ikes.
I laugh. “They had these?”
“It was that or M&Ms and I figured in this heat, Mike and Ikes were the smarter choice.”
Another laugh escapes me before I can stop it. “Those were literally our favorites.”
“Were?” he echoes.
“Are,” I correct. I guess I’m still living in the past when all of this feels so damn new.
With his other hand, Holden reaches out, looping a rope of licorice lightly around the back of my neck.
“What are you—”
He tugs. Not hard, but enough to pull me a few inches closer. My breath catches when he leans in. His face is right there—close enough that I can see the tiny scar on his chin and the flecks of sapphire in his light blue eyes.
Holden smiles softly, then presses a quick, playful kiss to my cheek before pulling away, taking the last of my oxygen with him.
“Damn you,” I mutter. “You’re maxed out on points already. Stop trying to earn more.”
He just smirks, handing me the candy as if nothing happened. “Eat your snacks.”
I fiddle with the candy, staring at the stranger who is my best friend. My cheek still burns from where his lips grazed me.
It hits me all at once.
This is not fake.
There is no universe where this is fake.
So why does it still feel like it could all… disappear?
The second half of the play is a blur. Despite the amazing acting, the brilliant lighting, the great delivery of each line, I am no longer paying attention. Instead, the real act is happening right here on this blanket. The magic unfolding between us.
I press myself to Holden’s side, leaning into him yet still mentally preparing for when he pulls away. Because despite how much I feel it, I still believe a time will come when he doesn’t want me.
Holden keeps his arm curled around my back. My heart is pounding so loud I’m sure he can feel it.
Toward the end of the final act, Holden brushes his lips close to my ear and whispers, “Thanks for coming with me, Kor.”
The words send a shiver down my spine. He’s thanking me? No, no, no. I should be thanking him. This night has been amazing. A literal midsummer night’s dream.
I turn my head, and suddenly we’re close. So close. His lips are right there, inches away. All I have to do is lean in.
My breath catches, and for a moment, I let myself imagine it—his lips against mine, a quiet gasp of surprise that would absolutely come from me.
I want it so much it hurts.
Then fear slams into me, sharp and sudden.
What if I’m wrong?
What if this isn’t real to him, or what if it becomes too much?
Holden has never asked me to change, but what if this—what if dating me means he will?
I turn away before our lips meet.
Holden’s breath ghosts across my cheek—in disappointment maybe? I can’t be sure. I don’t dare look at him as he kisses my cheek again.
Afraid he’s going to leave now, I rest my hand on his thigh. This is okay, right? Safe?
Applause erupts around us as the play ends, and people begin packing away their things, disappearing into the night. Holden and I take our time, folding the blanket together, throwing away trash.
The crowd moves around us, buzzing with excitement and opinions about the show. I know Holden wants to ask me what I thought, or maybe if I had fun. I can see it in the way he keeps glancing at me, like he’s waiting for me to say something.
But my head is too… full. Too light. Too tangled up in everything that just happened. In everything that almost happened. Suddenly, I understand what Holden meant about his brain getting loud, because mine is deafening.
There’s only one thing I hear through all of it. One thing I’m certain of: this wasn’t fake.
Not even a little.
The only question now is, what am I going to do about it?