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I stay seated.
Brianna steps out, looking flawless,of course.I look away when she rises to her toes and kisses him. Like I probably would’ve kissed him.What the fuck am I doing?
“I have to go,” she says. “I’ll see you soon?”
“For sure. I’ll call you later.” This time,hekissesher. Like he probably would’ve kissed me. And now the question becomes: What the fuck washedoing?
We don’t look at each other. Don’t say a word. Not until we hear Brianna’s car pull out of the driveway far enough that we can no longer hear it. “Grab your stuff,” Holden says. “I have someone coming to look at the damage on your RV.”
13
Holden
I shouldnothave touched her the way I did, but—
But nothing.
I shouldn’t have touched her, period.
The problem? I want to do it again.
What’s even worse is that I don’t know if I want to because of pure lust or… out of spite.
I recognize how fucked up it is that I get some kind of sick, twisted joy from knowing she has such a visible reaction to me.
“Your girlfriend’s beautiful, Holden,” she says, breaking the silence I’ve been drowning in since we got in the car. Granted, it’s only been a few minutes, but it feels like an eternity. Even her fucking voice sets me off… the way she says my name. And why she even feels as though it’s okay to have Brianna’s name in her mouth, I do not know.
“I have eyes,” I murmur. “I’m fully aware of how my girlfriend looks.”
Jamie sighs. “Well, the statement was either going to be your girlfriend or your truck.” I canfeelher agitation. Good. “Your truck’s beautiful, Holden!” I’m too busy focused on the road that I don’t see her when she says this… but I can picture it: the exaggerated smile and gritted teeth that come with her usual sarcasm.
I fight back a chuckle. “Thanks.” Then I grip the wheel tighter, trying to reign in my emotions. Itisa nice truck—one I don’t deserve. The white Ford F-450 stands out like a sore thumb in a struggling, small farming town like Blessing, and most days, I’m almost ashamed to drive it. “It was a graduation present from my mom and her husband.”
After a beat, she asks, “Your mom got remarried?”
She got married a few months ago, but with her husband’s work schedule, they only recently left for their honeymoon. Three months, around the world, first-class. Because the great Joseph Kovács wouldn’t accept anything less. I peer over at Jamie, nodding. “Yep. To Joseph—Mia’s dad.”
“Oh.”
She probably doesn’t even remember much about Mia or how I felt about her dad. It’s not as if we datedyesterday.
“I thought you hated him.”
So shedoesremember.Huh. “I don’t have to like him,” I state, glancing sideways at her. “But my mom does, and that’s all that matters.”
She doesn’t respond, which is good because I’m not in the mood to answer questions on that topic. When her RV comes into view, she sits taller, makes a hissing sound.
Yeah, it isn’t good.
And seeing it in the dark last night is nothing compared to how it looks in the light of day. “You calledallthese people?”
“All?” I scoff. “There are three people there, Jamie.” And no, I only needed to make one phone call.
She keeps quiet as I slow my truck, stopping on the opposite side of the large tow truck. I get out and wait for her at the rear. When she joins me, I tell her, “Wait here.”
“What?”
I roll my eyes. “Wait. Here.”
