definitely made the whole thing a little more enjoyable.”
“How often do you see her?”
“Most days, I guess.” I shrug one shoulder. “We have to get together to plan the dates beforehand, and then we usually meet up afterward to kind of do a rundown on everything that happened. She’s there on the dates too, but obviously, we don’t really get to talk much then.”
“She comes on the dates with you?”
“Yeah. In the background kind of thing. So she can take notes for her articles.”
He nods, and I unexpectedly find myself sharing more. “She was over on Saturday night after the date, and Chloe talked her into giving her some makeup tutorials and shit.” I smirk. “You know how she’s been pushing for lessons and stuff.”
“So, Chloe likes her?”
“Oh yeah. They get along really well. Except Holley can’t figure out what Chloe’s talking about any better than you and I can. The slang is almost out of hand at this point. She tried to convince us one night that ‘snatch’ means something other than pussy.”
A small smile plays at his lips, but he doesn’t say much else. After a seriously compelling moment in which I said both the word snatch and pussy, I’m at a loss for why he’s so quiet.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he deflects, but I push.
“What?”
“It’s just…you have a lot to say about Holley, dude. Like, a lot. And I don’t think I’ve even heard you mention any of the other women’s names.”
I try to decide if that’s true or not. I guess it is, but it’s bound to happen. I see Holley five times more than I see any of the other women.
“Yeah, I see her a lot. And…well, so far, the women haven’t really been all that exciting.”
“And Holley is?”
“What are you trying to say?”
He sighs and lifts up both of his hands defensively before stretching out his shoulders by pulling them across his body and looking me directly in the eye. “Nothing, man. It’s just an observation. Some food for thought, you know.”
My mind reels with flashbacks of all the tiny moments I’ve had with Holley over the last two weeks or so. The laughs, the smiles, the dancing…the undeniably intimate moment Saturday night.
Garrett stares at me hard through it all before opening his mouth one more time. “At the end of this thing…maybe just pay attention to whichever woman you think about the most—no matter who she is.”
I nod numbly, truly considering the way Holley’s been making me feel for the first time.
Jesus Christ, how could I not have noticed before?
Seeing the look on my face, Garrett takes pity on me, shaking my shoulder softly and then patting me on the back.
“Ready to run again?” he asks, knowing me well enough to know I need the outlet.
I don’t pause long enough to do anything more than nod before taking off back down the beach in the other direction.
I need to run. Hard and fast and as long as I can.
The truth is there, waiting for me to find it.
I just don’t know if I’m running in the right direction.
Holley
When Jake walks into the skating rink wearing his signature jeans and T-shirt, he looks even better than ever. I feel like I’m always saying that, but it’s always the truth.
The fit of his jeans is perfection, and a lavender T-shirt stretches deliciously across the muscles of his chest.
Thanks to the support from his light-purple apparel, his eyes stand out vibrantly. Hell, even from twenty feet away as he scans the arena looking for me, no one could miss that striking gaze of his.
When he finally spots me, at a high-top table in the corner, his mouth melts into a smile.
My God, the things I’d do to have a man that attractive look at me like that for the rest of my life.
I shake off my thoughts as he approaches, and I return the smile as naturally as I can manage.
I haven’t seen him since Saturday night when I spent the evening eating brownies and sundaes with him and Chloe while watching the first two episodes of Making a Murderer on Netflix. It’s been out for a while, but I’d never dared to watch it on my own.
It was interesting as hell, and the three of us—we got invested.
In fact, it was almost distracting enough to make me forget about the near kiss/grope/reveal of all my ugly feelings in the kitchen that happened just beforehand.
Almost.
I’ve spent the last few days tangled in a web of feelings even Rapunzel wouldn’t