HOLDEN
Iwake early the next day with a restless feeling lodged deep in my chest. Energy is crackling through me, like it does every day now.
Korie is sleeping with their back to me, one arm under their pillow. They look so peaceful. I could wake them up for some early morning sex, but Korie hasn’t been sleeping well the last few nights. They probably need rest.
As lightly as I can, I wrap an arm around them and kiss their shoulder. “I’m going out,” I whisper. “I’ll be back soon, okay?”
Korie stirs only long enough to let me know they’ve heard me.
I slip out of bed and head outside. The morning air is cool and humid as I run. I pick up speed automatically, shoes slapping against the wet pavement. Even the rain can’t dampen my mood. Everything is just lighter somehow.
The city feels different these days.
Or maybe I do.
For years my life felt like I was waiting for something to start. Work. Friends. Family dinners. Even good days always carried this weird hollow edge to them, like I was standing outside my own life watching everyone else move forward.
Now I wake up beside Korie and everything feels… anchored.
Like the future finally has shape to it.
I don’t even mean huge things—not marriage or forever or any of the shit that used to make me panic. Just little things. Grocery shopping together. Stealing fries from Korie for the next fifty years. Knowing who I’ll text first when something funny happens.
Knowing who’ll be waiting for me when I come home.
The thought settles warm in my chest instead of scaring me.
That still surprises me sometimes.
And maybe I should slow down. Maybe this is all moving fast. But every time I look at Korie lately, it feels less like we’re starting something and more like we finally stopped pretending.
I come to a stop beside a bench, bracing my hands on my knees. Sweat drips off my jaw while I suck air into burning lungs.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I almost ignore the call, too out of breath to talk. But when I see who it is, I answer anyway.
“Hey, Mom,” I gasp.
“Hi, sweetheart! This a bad time?”
“Nah. Just out on a run. What’s up?”
“I told you I’d call with an update about Labor Day weekend.”
Right. That. The bubble expands, and I catch myself smiling.
“Uh, sure. I have a few minutes.”
Mom launches straight into logistics. Food assignments.
Who’s arriving Friday versus Saturday morning.
Same chaos as every year, just with fewer people this time.
The longing in Mom’s voice when she mentions Caleb, as well as Korie’s two older brothers, tugs at something in my chest. It’ll be weird without their usual antics. No doubt about it.
But maybe that means I won’t get my ass handed to me in volleyball this year. There’s always hope.
I can picture Korie smirking. You sure about that?
I almost laugh.
“We’ve got sleeping arrangements mostly figured out,” Mom continues. “Couples get dibs on the beds first, obviously, then anyone willing to rough it can sleep in tents. The loft should fit all of the younger kids. Maris and I assumed you and Korie would be fine sharing a tent again.”
My stomach flip-flops.
Couples.
The word lands differently now.
I glance toward the sky, a bubble of quiet laughter slipping through.
How long before everyone catches on that something is different this year?
I mean, we’ve always gravitated toward each other.
Same couches. Same teams. Same side of every group photo.
But this year Korie and I won’t be able to keep our hands off each other.
I can already hear Hattie’s taunts when she sees us. And for once, it doesn’t grate against my nerves.
Papers shuffle on Mom’s end. “Holden?”
I blink hard. “Sorry, what?”
“I asked if that arrangement works for you two.”
You two.
Another phrase that feels different now.
“Uh.” I clear my throat. “Yeah. That’s fine. We won’t mind a tent.”
If anything, it’ll give us privacy since we can’t seem to go two nights without sex.
Mom sounds pleased, already moving on. “Perfect. I thought so. Oh—and Laura is insisting on handling breakfast Saturday, which honestly is probably for the best after last year.”
I barely hear the rest.
I’ve always enjoyed Labor Day campout with the families, but now I’m kind of excited for it.
I can already picture Korie and I sharing marshmallows and flying off the rope swing.
Catching the sun on our towels. Then slowing down and sitting closer than usual at the fire, my arms around them as their eyes get dreamy.
I’m addicted to that look. It doesn’t always happen, but sometimes.
When they let their guard down and just… stay with me a while.
When Mom starts talking about the usual couple traditions at camp out, I nearly say it. Add Korie and I to the list this year. We’re dating!
Mom will be thrilled for us. Honestly, most people will. But this is something we’ll want to explain in person. Or better yet, just let everyone figure out.
Damn. This is going to be so much fun.
I force myself to focus long enough to wrap up the call. “Hey, Mom, I gotta go. I still need to get ready for work.”
“Okay, honey. But call me later so we can figure out meal assignments.”
“Yeah.” I tug at my shirt, cringing at the sweat. “Just text me what to bring and Korie and I will handle it.”
The call ends, and I stare down at my phone for a long moment, a sense of joy flowing through me.
Labor Day is only a few weeks away, and somehow, I know it’s going to be the best one yet.
When I get home—when did I start thinking of Korie’s apartment as home?—the place smells like coffee and toast.
Korie is on the couch in one of my hoodies, hair messy from sleep while they scroll through their phone. My chest does that stupid warm squeeze immediately.
“Hey,” they say quietly.
I lean down to kiss the top of their head on my way into the kitchen. “Mom called.”
“Mm?” Korie glances up.
“Campout stuff.” I grin while grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. “She already has us sharing a tent again.”
Their reaction is so small that if I hadn’t been looking at them, I would’ve missed it.
Korie’s shoulders tense for half a second before they relax. Their eyes drop back to their phone too quickly, and they reach for another piece of toast.
“Oh,” they say lightly. “Cool.”
I pause.
Something about their voice feels… off.
But then Korie looks back up and smiles at me—that small, sleepy, beautiful smile that completely screws with my head. It’s my favorite smile.
“I think they throw us out there because they’re tired of your crappy lyrics.”
“Huh?”
“You know. All the things you say in your sleep.”
I gasp. “Or maybe they’re tired of us being a two-person band. Me with the lyrics, you with your chainsaw melody.”
Korie throws their head back in a laugh. “Oh, God. I walked right into that one.”
I smirk. “You kinda did.”
Korie waves a hand. “Go shower, dumbass. You’re dripping sweat all over the floor.”
“Fine. Feel free to join me,” I say, winking over my shoulder.
Korie shakes their head.
My steps are light when I walk into work later that day. Ellis and Blaine are at the welcome desk, checking in guests. Ellis does a quick double take when she sees me.
I smile. “Hey.”
“Hi.” The suspicion in her voice makes me chuckle.
I go to the breakroom to toss my bag into my locker.
When I come back out, Cole is entering his physical therapy office, looking a little worse for wear.
His pale blond hair is pushed back from his forehead, and he’s holding a clipboard in one hand and his phone in the other.
He doesn’t notice me when I step in beside him.
“Hey.”
Cole flinches, quickly pocketing the phone. “Oh, hey.”
He turns into his office quicker than I expected, making me pause.
I follow him. “Everything okay?”
Cole sighs, setting the clipboard down and glancing at the whiteboard with the day’s schedule on it. “Just another busy day,” he says with a weak smile.
Cole is our on-staff medic. He also runs a small physical therapy clinic with a rapidly growing list of clients. The man never stops working. But he’s also my friend. I’ve gotten to know him pretty well over the last three months, and I can tell when something is bothering him.
“You sure about that?”
“It’s nothing,” he says flatly. “Just… family stuff. What’s up with you, huh? Why do you seem like you’ve been floating on air the last couple of weeks?”
I duck my face, trying to hide the sudden heat crawling up my neck. “Uh, just… you know. Life stuff.”
Cole’s expression softens, slowly curving into a smile. “You sure about that?”
I laugh. “Things are just really good right now. That’s all.”
He nods slowly. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with holding Korie’s hand at Los Rejos the other day, would it?”
My heart jolts and I snap my attention to him. He saw us?
Cole’s shit-eating grin is instant, as if my reaction says everything. “Just sayin’. Seems a pretty big reason to smile, if you ask me.”
“Uh… yeah.” I clear my throat. “Guess so.”
Cole waits, then raises an eyebrow. “That’s all you’re going to give me? Come on, man. I’ve been dying to know. I just wasn’t sure if you guys were keeping it quiet or—”
“Yeah. We are.”
He nods once.
I drag a hand over the back of my neck. I was this close to spilling the news to my mom on the phone this morning. Maybe if I get it off my chest, it won’t spill out of me so ridiculously at the family campout.
Or, you know… anywhere.
I can’t contain how I feel anymore. I’m crazy about them.
But talking about Korie without them here makes guilt twist in my stomach. I already know they aren’t ready to take this public.
“I’m happy for you, Holden.” Cole turns to lean against his desk, hands folded. “And honestly? It makes sense.”
I snort quietly. “It does?”
“Yeah, you guys have this weird little orbit around each other.” He gestures between us. “Like everybody else is standing still while you two are having a whole separate conversation. I thought it was just me, you know, being a third wheel. But no. I saw it when we took the boat out too.”