HOLDEN #2
I can’t hide my smile. “Yeah. Hey, speaking of the boat, we really need to take that out again.”
Korie and I have been so wrapped up in our own little world that we haven’t made time for our friends lately. That needs to change.
“Sure. Just let me know when.” Cole shrugs. “But don’t change the subject. How long have you been together?”
My gaze catches on the therapy bands hanging from the wall, and I grab one, stretching it between my hands just to have something to do.
“A little over a month.”
“Oh, so it’s new?”
“You remember my sister?”
Cole nods.
“She made this joke a while back that Korie and I should pretend to date each other.” I shake my head. “She thought we could learn something from it. Like, it would improve our dating lives or something.”
Cole laughs once. “And you actually listened?”
“I know it sounds ridiculous.”
Except it doesn’t anymore.
Not even a little.
“It was supposed to be temporary,” I say quietly. “Just something we did for fun, you know? Maybe get a few good laughs. But then we went out once, and it felt…” I search for the word. “Easy.”
Not easy as in nothing is complicated. Easy as in being with Korie feels as natural as breathing.
“Then we went out again. And again. And somewhere along the line we slipped into something…” I trail off, emotion clogging my throat.
“Real?” Cole offers, his voice soft.
I nod. “This thing with Korie is the most real thing I’ve ever had. And I’m scared of fucking it up.”
He frowns. “Why do you say that?”
“Have you met me? I have a shitty track record.”
Cole ignores that, watching me for a second before asking, “Is it serious?”
“For me it is.”
The room goes strangely quiet around me as my brain sprints ahead to catch up to what I just said. My heart sinks.
For me it is.
Fuck.
Suddenly, I’m not so sure we’re feeling the same things anymore. Is that why they flinched this morning?
Cole straightens. “Well, if you want an outsider’s perspective? I’d say you’ve got nothing to worry about, Hold. They’re in it pretty deep too.” He claps me on the shoulder. “I saw the way Korie was looking at you. And trust me, you only look at someone like that when you love them.”
At his pained tone, I glance up, but Cole’s jaw tightens like he regrets letting that much emotion slip through.
For the first time, I wonder what happened before he moved here. What kind of experience puts that particular ache in someone’s voice.
Ellis knocks on the office door. “Cole? Your three o’clock is here.”
He clears his throat. “Be right there.”
The moment breaks apart.
I drop the resistance band back onto the hook and follow him out into the noise of the gym again.
Before we split off, Cole catches my arm briefly.
“You and Korie really are good together. I’m happy for you.”
The words hit me strangely.
Cole smiles faintly, oblivious to the sudden knot forming in my chest. “Seriously. You balance each other out. It’s nice to see.”
Then he heads toward the therapy room before I can answer.
I stand there, staring after him while the noise of the gym swells around me.
You and Korie are good together.
Our old swim coach used to say that all the time. Usually while timing our relay laps or watching us shove each other into the deep end between sets.
You two are good together.
You push each other.
You make each other better.
Back then, I’d believed that meant something permanent. Like whatever existed between Korie and me was strong enough to survive anything. Win or lose, we’d always have each other.
Then they quit the team.
Not suddenly. Not all at once.
First came the missed practices. The excuses. The way Korie stopped talking about future meets like they were already halfway gone before anyone else noticed.
And when they finally left, I’d spent months wondering how I missed it, and even longer wondering why Korie never felt like they could talk to me about it.
It still guts me when I think about it.
The memory settles heavily into my chest as I head back toward the front desk, fear lodging somewhere in my throat. How good can something be if it still ends with someone leaving?
Lately, I’ve caught glimpses of that same hesitation again. The way Korie goes quiet when I talk about the future. How they look away when things get too real. Like part of them wants this as badly as I do, and another part is already bracing for impact.
Am I misreading them? Is Korie really not in this?
My phone buzzes, and I pull it out to see a text from Korie. Just going in to work now. I’ll be home late. Don’t feel like you have to wait up for me. <3
I stare at the message longer than I should.
A month ago, we would’ve stayed up half the night talking anyway. Falling asleep on the phone. Trading stupid stories and flirting until one of us passed out mid-sentence.
Now Korie’s telling me not to wait up.
That ball of dread expands slightly beneath my ribs. Maybe they’re just tired, or work has been overwhelming lately. Hell, maybe I’m reading too much into this because of what Cole said.
But the uneasiness still lingers, quiet and persistent for the rest of the day. Not strong enough to drown out how much I care about them. But enough to make me wonder if I missed something important all over again.
Is Korie pulling away?