He knows I’m a sucker for a new restaurant.
The sun hangs low enough to turn everything gold as we walk. San Diego evenings in late July are unfairly nice, all warm breeze and salt in the air. Holden reaches for my hand halfway down the block like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
My pulse stutters, and not necessarily in a good way. We’re less than three blocks from my apartment. I frequent these streets and know some of these people by name.
It’s not being seen that I’m worried about. It’s what they’ll say. How can I explain what this is, when I’m still trying to wrap my head around it?
Holden lets go of my hand to pull open the restaurant door for me. The place is busy without being packed, strings of warm lights hanging across the ceiling and music humming softly under the noise of conversation. It smells amazing—grilled meat, citrus, and fresh tortillas. My stomach growls instantly.
Holden looks unbearably pleased with himself.
“Oh my god,” I say as the hostess grabs menus. “You’ve already been here, haven’t you?”
“No, but I may have read some reviews.”
“Wait.” I blink. “You researched our date?”
His cheeks turn pink. “Guess I’ve learned a thing or two.”
The hostess seats us in a booth near the window, and Holden slides in across from me.
“You’re flustered,” he says quietly.
“I am not.”
Holden’s grin widens. “You are. And it’s cute as fuck.”
I look down at my menu, huffing. “So anyway,” I say dramatically. “How was work?”
He laughs. “Busy as usual. Blaine started a countdown in the break room for when school starts again.”
I chuckle. “That sick of the summer camps, are you?”
“Oh, the summer camps are over. But now all those kids think they’re hotshots at climbing and are dragging their families in.”
“Well, that’s a good thing, isn’t it? It means more business?”
“It also means less breaks from all the chaos.” Holden sighs. “I want to go do some real climbing soon. Outside of the gym, like maybe take a trip to Mission Gorge or something. Cole said he wants to go too.”
I wait for the invitation, but it doesn’t come. It stings, even though it shouldn’t. He’s gone climbing dozens of times without me. Besides, I don’t love it the way he does. “Well, you should.”
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.
Thatnever 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.
