“Host,” I repeat, snorting.
“Date. Host. Whatever.” He flips open the basket, lowering his voice again. “I’m nervous, okay? Cut me some slack.”
His confession somehow soothes me. At least I’m not the only one.
I peer inside. “Holy crap, Holden,” I breathe.
He went all out.
There’s a fresh loaf of sourdough bread wrapped in a cloth. Sliced cheeses. Strawberries. Grapes. Little containers of pasta salad and what looks like chicken. Even some of my favorite chocolate tucked into the corner.
When he lifts the other side, my eyebrows shoot to my hairline.
“You brought wine?”
He shrugs, a little self-conscious. “I didn’t know if that was… too much. There’s bottled water too.”
I huff out a laugh, shaking my head. “You’re kidding, right?”
His smile fades a little. “Is that a good reaction or—”
“Dude. You’re kicking ass,” I cut in, meaning every word. “Like, full points across the board.”
Holden’s shoulders loosen, and that grin returns, all soft and warm with unhindered desire. It stuns me. It’s something I’ve only ever seen directed toward other people. Never me.
My belly squirms.
“Well, good. Because like I said, the night’s just getting started.”
I reach for a grape. “Okay. Spill. What else do you have planned?”
“Nope. You’ll have to wait and see.”
“Holden.”
He nudges me. “Trust me.”
This playful, flirty side of Holden shouldn’t be so attractive. But it really, really is.
We eat before the play starts, stretched out on the blanket, passing things back and forth. I take my sandals off and toss them into the grass. Our hands brush just enough to make me hyper-aware of everything he’s doing.
We fall into old rhythms without even trying—joking, stealing bites off each other’s plates, arguing over which cheese is better. I barely notice the crowd as they spread out their blankets and low-sitting lawn chairs. A few people smile at us, others stare. I duck my face, wanting to hide. Wanting nothing to ruin the spell.
It’s impossible not to compare. In the grand scheme of things, this isn’t all that different from “before.” And yet,everythingis different. Every look, every tiny touch… they all say something they never used to. They mean something.
Or at least, I think they do.
I’ve replayed that conversation in my living room a thousand times, trying to fully grasp what Holden was saying. He said he hadn’t left the store because he was uncomfortable or eventurned off by me wearing the sexy lingerie. But is he really saying it was the opposite? That he… wants me?
My heart is a squishy puddle, trying to make sense of it all.
By the time the lights dim, I’m already a little floaty. A little too aware of him sitting next to me. But Holden shifts even closer. His thigh presses against mine, all solid and warm. His arm stretches out behind me along the back edge of the blanket, not quite touching, but close enough that I can feel the presence of it.
I worry my lip and lean into him, testing the new boundaries. He doesn’t pull away. If anything, he settles in more, like he was waiting for it.
I turn away to hide my smile. If this were real…
The thought hits hard enough to make me suck in a quiet breath.
