It was always you, Kor.
That sentence has been stuck in my head for five straight days, replaying itself on a loop like one of Holden’s precious vinyls. It’s become my most hated song… and somehow my favorite.It was always you, Kor.It’s like our entire life has been a playlist leading up to this moment when we’d finally see what we meant to each other.
Traffic jerks forward another few feet before slowing again.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
I lean sideways enough to see ahead and resist the urge to slam a hand against the dash. Traffic has been reduced to a single lane, and there is a roadside traffic signal ahead warning drivers of extended drive times because of an accident.
Because, of course, there is one.
As if an accident isn’t bad enough—apparently every idiot in the state of California decided to travel for the holiday weekend. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it this busy.
I can hear Holden in my head, using that smug tone when he thinks he’s being funny. “This is why we leave at noon on the day of the campout, Korie. The traffic always sucks.”
“Yeah, thanks, jerkface,” I mutter, as if he were sitting right next to me. “Real helpful now!”
I can easily picture his crooked smile at the insult. Hear his laugh. It makes my heart clench all over again, and it softens thefrustration just a little. The traffic wouldn’t be so bad if he were here with me. We’d toss complaints back and forth, sing terribly loud without shame, and laugh until our sides hurt.
Fuck, I miss him.
The car in front of me brakes suddenly again, and frustration explodes through me before I can stop it. I slam my hand against the horn. The driver flips me off through their window.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Sorry!”
I sink back against my seat and scrub both hands over my face. Why can’t teleportation devices exist already? I’d gladly hand over my savings just to get to Holden.
It doesn’t help that the only thing I’ve eaten today is a handful of stale crackers from the back of my pantry. Every time I tried making actual food, nausea rolled through me instead.
Not because of overwhelm or because I’m spiraling. But because I know the second I see Holden, we’re going to have to talk. Really talk. And I don’t know how to explain all of this without hurting him again.
That’s the part eating me alive.
Not the relationship—never the relationship. Being with him is…God.How could I have known how good it would be with Holden? It’s just everything else.
I stare out the windshield as I recall the way he’d sat on the edge of his couch, leg bouncing as if he was going to ask me to fly off to London or something.Go on one date with me, Kor. That’s it. If you hate it, we’ll stop.
It had seemed laughably stupid at the time, and I was convinced it would end terribly. Either we’d end up hurting each other, or we’d spend the entire night being awkward idiots and laughing ourselves sick.
Instead, Holden had surprised me.
He’d bought me flowers in my favorite color, held doors open for me like an absolute dork, took me to a restaurant that may aswell have been heaven. And he’d held my hand as we walked on the sidewalk.
It couldn’t have been more perfect if he’d tried.
So perfect, in fact, that it left me genuinely confused why other men didn’t want him.
I always knew Holden James was a catch—I just never suspected I’d be the one to catch him. Somewhere between dinner and watching him make a candle like his life depended on it, something in me shifted.
That might’ve been the night I fell in love with him. Or maybe just the night I finally recognized it.
Maybe not all at once, but enough that I never really recovered from it.
I rub my chest.Please let us get through this.
The line finally starts moving again, and I throw a hand up in relief. As soon as we’re out of the hazard zone, I hit the gas, passing two motor homes and an old travel bus, trying desperately to make up for lost time.
My stomach tightens the closer I get to the cabin, and the last few weeks replay in pieces behind my eyes.
