5. Holden
HOLDEN
I’ve been awake for over an hour, lying here with Zara curled against my chest. Her breath is soft and steady. But everything else feels different. The power is back on. The sun is out. The high of last night has faded into the quiet of morning.
An hour into scrolling her social media and reality encroaches upon us. I don’t like anything about it.
Zara is easy to fall in love with. That much is obvious from the two million followers across her platforms. From what I can tell, women want to be her, and men want to… the thought makes me sick to my stomach.
I keep scrolling. It’s like a trainwreck I can’t turn away from. A photo of her in a bikini at the beach has five thousand comments. Most of them are men, sure that they are her perfect match. She’s everything to a whole lot of people and I’m over here falling in love like an idiot.
I don’t do complicated. I don’t do fast. And I sure as hell don’t do feelings that sneak up on me and take root like they’ve been here all along.
But here I am, memorizing the way her lashes rest against her cheeks.
Trying to capture the warm weight of her body against mine.
Desperate to ignore the way she fits like she was made to be in my arms.
It’s like she was made for me, and that’s the problem.
No matter how good this feels, how right I think she is for me, Zara Platt doesn’t belong here. She belongs backstage at stadiums and in glossy places with fast-paced energy and bottomless champagne. Not in a one-room cabin with a man who smells like hay and owns flannel in every shade of regret.
She stirs against me, and I feel her smile before I see it.
“Morning, cowboy,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to my chest that damn near undoes me.
“Morning.” I clear my throat, trying to center myself. “How’d you sleep?”
She yawns and stretches against me. “Best sleep of my life.”
The way she’s looking at me ruins me. Her lashes flutter. Her smile is open and easy. Zara trusts me… or maybe she just trusts easily. The thought makes my throat go tight because I already know how this ends.
It’s one thing to break my own heart. But I can’t be the one to destroy hers in the process.
I know what I have to do. We need to end this now before either one of us falls any deeper.
I get out of bed and glance back. I find her sitting up and clutching the blanket to her chest. My heart sinks when I realize I’m about to dim that sparkle in her eyes.
“Where are you heading out to so soon?”
“We should get back up to the main house over by Pa’s. I’m sure your sister and Bowen will be making the rounds trying to find you. I’m surprised they haven’t sent out the search party yet.”
She fumbles with her pile of clothing. “Oh, my phone's dead. Yeah, I guess they probably are looking.” There’s something decidedly careful in her voice that wasn’t there before.
I stare out at the clearing like the answers I need are buried in the mud. But when the magical sensation of her hand on my back sends heat whipping up and down my body, I know it’s time. So I say it.
“Look, Zara... about last night?—”
“One for the books,” she gives me a flirty smile that breaks my heart.
I don’t return the gesture.
Zara tilts her head, studying me. “What are you trying to say, Holden?”
“I’m saying what happened between us...” I drag a hand through my hair. “It was incredible. But we both know this isn’t real life. This? Us? It’s just a moment. We were caught in a storm and caught up in each other.”
I gesture to the room. To the damn firelight and the half-dried boots by the door. “You’ve got a whole world waiting for you. A big one. With deals and deadlines and two million people watching your every move.”
Her face shudders. She pulls the blanket tighter.
“And?” she says flatly.
“And this ranch life? It’s not you. It’s slow and small and quiet.
Eventually, you’ll miss the rush. The energy.
The attention. You’ll get bored. Not that you asked to stay, I’m getting ahead of myself.
But I don’t want you to think I don’t know exactly what this is.
” The words taste like trash, but I say them anyway.
Force them past the part of me begging to shut up and just ask her to stay.
She’s very still now, and the silence speaks volumes. But the problem is I have no idea what the hell it’s trying to say. But if I were a betting man, I’d guess that I somehow just made the situation worse.
“Someone like me,” she repeats slowly, eyes hardening.
Dammit.
“Zara—”
“No. Say it. You’ve clearly got me figured out, so let’s hear it. What kind of person am I?”
“You’re...” I falter. There’s no version of this that won’t make me look like a complete asshole. But silence clearly isn’t going to cut it, so I dig the hole anyway. “You’re used to luxury. Excitement. Constant motion. This place... It’s not enough for someone like that.”
Zara turns away. Her shoulders are stiff.
She starts dressing in silence, and even though I claimed every inch of her body last night, I feel the need to look away.
When she finally faces me again, her expression is cool and composed.
But her bright, expressive, impossible-to-miss eyes are undeniably wounded.
“Well then, that’s settled.” Zara’s voice is falsely cheerful. “Good thing the rain stopped when it did. Wouldn’t want me getting too attached to all this simplicity.”
“That’s not what I?—”
“Isn’t it?” She steps into her heels. “You think I’m some shallow, surface-level city girl playing dress-up in the dirt until I get bored and go back to selfies and sponsorships.”
“I didn’t say shallow. ”
“You didn’t have to.” Her hands tremble just slightly as she smooths her hair, but her voice never cracks.
“Don’t worry, Holden. I got the message loud and clear.
Last night was fun. Now it’s time for me to get back to my glamorous, empty life.
You aren’t the first person to underestimate me.
But you might be the one to make it hurt the most.”
“Zara, wait?—”
“It’s okay. I get it. I’m going to head up to my sister’s place. Point me in the right direction.” She moves to the door.
This is what I asked for, but now that it’s happening, I hate everything about it. I feel sick. I’m desperate for more time with her. “I’ll walk you.”
“Thanks for the adventure, cowboy. It was very... authentic. But an escort isn’t necessary. Is it up the road or down?”
“Zara.”
“Up or down?” Her jaw clenches so tightly, I know I’m too late.
“Down.”
Then she’s gone. She strides into the gray morning light. Her head is high. Her shoulders are pinned back. Her heels sink into the soft earth.
And I let her go.
An hour passes, but I don’t need the time to know that this was a huge mistake. I know I’m a damn coward who just pushed away the best thing that’s ever happened to me.