KORIE #2
After we order, the waitress leaves a bowl of homemade salsa and fresh tortilla chips. Both are to die for. I don’t even need a meal.
At one point, Holden reaches across the table to wipe salsa off the corner of my mouth with his thumb, completely absentminded about it. My thoughts scatter completely, and a slow smile spreads across my face.
Holden freezes, eyes widening like he just realized what he did. Neither of us move.
That never happened when we hung out. Doubt it ever crossed his mind, either.
He lowers his gaze, suddenly looking a little embarrassed, then reaches for my hand anyway. It does funny things to my heart. He’s acting like it’s all so… second-nature to him. Isn’t dating supposed to be awkward? Or is that just me?
The food isn’t as impressive as the salsa, but maybe that’s just because I ate too much of it. Oops.
“You wanna split churros too?” he asks lightly.
“Obviously. What kind of monster do you think I am?”
That gets a real laugh out of him, and I finally relax. I brush a thumb over his hand.
The thing is, as strange as it feels, I still love this. Like genuinely love it. If my head wasn’t so muddied I would actually tell him that. But the words stay lodged in my throat, trapped in the what ifs.
What if it’s all temporary?
What if it still isn’t real or he changes his mind?
What if I keep feeling winded?
That one hits a little too close to home. Taking me back to another time, when life suffocated me.
I flatten my other hand against my thigh under the table, trying to ground myself.
I’m silent the rest of the meal.
When we walk out, Holden clears his throat. “Okay. Now I get to show you the other reason I picked this place.”
I squint at him. “Wow. Researching and planning ahead? Maybe you actually did listen to me. Fifty points.”
Holden’s eyes soften. “I can’t take credit for this one. You gave me the idea the other day.”
I frown. “I did?”
His grin turns boyish. “You’ll know when you see it.”
His expression tells me it’s something we both love.
The evening air is warm and dry, but with a gentle breeze that cools everything down. We walk down the sidewalk toward the shops. A guitarist is playing on the corner for cash, and I throw a few loose bills in. Holden smiles at me.
As soon as we round the corner, I go up on my toes. “The music store?”
He grins, obviously pleased with himself—or my reaction. Maybe both.
The bell over the door chimes softly as we step inside. It smells like old vinyl and dust and something faintly nostalgic.
“God, I love this place,” Holden mutters, already heading for the racks. “Haven’t been here for months.”
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get emotional about it,” I tease.
Holden would have an entire library of vinyls if he had the room for it. Truth is, we haven’t been here since last summer, too caught up with work and life. But we used to spend hours in various music stores when we were teens, browsing the shelves and finding new music together.
We flip through albums side by side, shoulders bumping and occasionally holding something up for the other’s approval.
“Oh, check this out,” I say, revealing a pristine copy of Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours.
Holden’s eyes get huge. “My dad would love that one. We should get it for him for Christmas.”
The corner of my mouth hitches up, even if something in me stops cold. “We, huh?”
His cheeks heat. “I just mean… yeah.” He bumps my shoulder, like it should be something obvious.
My heart somersaults. Is he really thinking of us together at Christmas? I’m still trying to get used to us now.
I tuck the album under my arm as we pick through a couple more rows. Finding a few to sample, Holden drags me over to the listening station where two corded headphones are set up. He queues up the first track, and the music spills into our ears.
Just like that, we’re gone—grinning at each other, air guitars out, exaggerated strums, being completely ridiculous. When the chorus hits, we both lean into it, singing louder, dancing bolder, like the idiots we are without a care in the world.
I laugh, completely breathless, and lean into Holden. He tucks his head against mine for a brief second, then strums the next chorus with his fake guitar.
God, I love this.
I love this version of us, who can have fun anywhere, anytime. I love the way he looks at me like I’m in on some secret joke, or like we’re the only two people in the room. We can be our own imaginary band, right here in the middle of a music store, and we don’t give a crap who notices.
It’s how we’ve always been. I don’t want to lose it.
We buy a couple of albums on our way out, including the one for Andrew. I toss a new lip gloss into the mix before paying.
Holden shakes his head at me. “Don’t you have like, fifty of those?”
“No,” I lie.
“Mm-hmm.”
He kisses the side of my head before slipping by, making butterflies swoop in my belly. The cashier grins at us.
Outside, Holden pulls us toward a gravel path that winds through the park. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Mom said she’s reserving the lake cabin for Labor Day weekend again.”
My stomach drops so hard it feels physical, and my feet stumble against the gravel.
Shit.
I forgot about Labor Day.
Not the holiday itself. That’s impossible. It’s practically sacred in our families at this point. Same lake. Same cabins. Same stupid arguments over burgers and camp chairs and whose turn it is to bring firewood.
But this year…
This year will be different.
Because Holden’s hand is wrapped around mine right now.
Because he kissed me in a music shop not even fifteen minutes ago like it was the easiest thing in the world.
Because who we were last year doesn’t exist anymore, and everyone will see it.
“I forgot about Labor Day,” I manage.
He trudges on. “Yeah. It’ll be fun. Just wish my brother was going to be there.”
I scrub a hand over the center of my chest, trying to ease the pressure building there.
“It’s so soon,” I say quietly.
“Yup. Only a few weeks away.”
Exactly. Weeks. The same amount of time that we’ve been testing this whole thing out.
Holden tilts his head. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I’m just… trying to catch up, I guess.” I give a soft and humorless laugh. “The summer is disappearing so fast.”
Holden squeezes my hand. “Time flies when we’re having fun.”
I smile despite my sudden anxiety. I can see all of it too clearly—sitting together around a fire or sharing lazy morning kisses while our families make breakfast downstairs.
We’ll spend every hour together just like we always do—except now everyone will look at us like this is a forever-kind-of-thing instead of a trying-it-out thing.
And the worst part is I want that.
God, I want it so badly my chest hurts.
But I don’t know if I’m there.
I don’t know if I can trust forever yet.
Holden can. I see it every time I look at him. He stopped treating this like it’s temporary the second we climbed onto that Ferris Wheel—or maybe even before then. Probably without even realizing it too.
So why haven’t I? This has all felt right and natural and fun, but to me it’s still so… new. And new means fragile. New means it can all unravel.
My pulse kicks up. A month ago I didn’t want to date anyone, and now I’m dating someone who’s sprinting down the aisle. It’s like he dove into the pool ten seconds before me and now I’m desperately trying to catch up. Even if I want to be here, it’s still drowning me.
What am I going to do?
Labor Day weekend is a reminder time doesn’t slow down for anyone. Which means I need to find a way to catch up before I end up breaking Holden’s heart without meaning to.