“Oh my god,” he practically growls. “Would you quit being a brat and just open it?”
I glare at him, causing him to chuckle, and then slowly, carefully, I open the bag and peer inside. I stare at his gift, confusion mixed with anticipation pulsing through my veins. “What…?”
Holden, far less delicate with the bag than I was, tears it open and pulls out the box set of books. He holds it out between us, showing me exactly what it is: a collection of fairy tales. “There’s Snow White, Cinderella, Little Red Riding Hood…” he says, reading the spines of each book. He looks up, his smile, his words, making me dizzy with adoration. He pulls out the copy of Snow White before sliding down the bed, patting the spot next to him. “Come on.”
I crawl in beside him and tuck myself under his arm, lay my head right next to the tattooed compass I drew on him all those years ago.
“You ready?” he asks, cracking the book open.
I lift my eyes to his. “You’re going to read it to me?”
“Of course,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “No childhood is complete without a good bedtime story.”
I cozy in, let his voice, his words, bring me to another world. To a fairy tale.
He gets halfway through the book before I interrupt him, needing to say the one thing that’s been in my heart and on the tip of my tongue all day. “Hey, Holden?”
He drops his gaze to mine. “Yeah?”
“I love you too.”
37
Holden
I’m in a mood, and it’s clear that Jamie can sense it. Maybe it’s because I haven’t had a lot to say ever since she got the call that her RV was ready to be collected, or perhaps it’s because I’m not even trying to hide my resentment.
She’s been here for over a week now and, honestly, it’s been the best week of my life. It’s as if we picked up right where we left off and disregarded everything else in between.
During the days, she works in the office when she needs to and goes out with Mags to… I don’t really know what they do, and that’s fine because all I need to know is that she comes back laughing and smiling and happy.
When she’s not doing any of those things, she hangs out in her garden. She and Mags bought a couple of hammocks, and often, I’ll find her there after work just—as she puts it—“living her best life.”
Some evenings we have dinner with Dad and Mags, which I didn’t do prior to her staying with me. I always assumed that I’d be in their way or that they wanted their alone time. It turns out I was wrong, and Jamie made sure I was aware of it.
I even took her to meet my grandparents, which I’ve never done with any girl before. Of course, Jamie, a little old lady at heart, fell in love with them instantly. They made it pretty known that the feeling is mutual. She and Granny Eastwood already have plans to go antique shopping and watch the sunrise together. The sunrise, I could handle, but thank God Jamie’s here, because as much as I love my grandma, I don’t think I could take another day of looking at overpriced old shit while she tells me about her friends who I thought died years back.
My favorite time of the day since Jamie’s been back?
Night.
Because at night, I have her all to myself.
We kiss a lot, and we touch a lot, and that’s as far as it’s gone so far. Every night, I tuck her in and read her a bedtime story, and as lame as it might sound, it’s the reason I wake up every morning.
I don’t know about Jamie, but I, personally, have never been happier.
To say that dating Jamie 2.0 is everything I hoped it would be is an understatement. So, the fact that her RV is currently sitting in my driveway, giving her the option to up and leave whenever she wants, therefore, tearing my heart to pieces… yeah, it’s terrifying.
It’s not as if I want to chain her to my bed and keep her here against her will, because that would be crazy. Insane. I’m also ninety-nine percent sure it’s illegal. Though, there is that one percent that has me wondering…
“It’s as good as new,” Jamie chirps after doing a complete circle around the RV.
“Uh-huh.” I stand with my legs apart, arms crossed, glowering at the stupid monstrosity on wheels. “What’s the inside like?” Is it weird that I’m hoping for some kind of rat infestation—because that would solve all my problems.
“Good point,” she says, opening the side door and stepping inside.
I wait just outside the door with my hands in my pockets, stewing in my feelings.
“Looks good,” she calls out.
“Great.”
When she returns, she doesn’t step out of her humble abode. Instead, she sits on the step leading down and looks up at me, her head cocked, eyes narrowed. “What’s with you?”
I play dumb, refuse to look at her. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve been in your feelings ever since I got the call that this is ready.”
I huff out a breath, my shoulders deflating along with my facade. Jamie stretches out her bare legs, her flip-flop-covered feet tapping on my shins. When she’d arrived here, she came straight from Gina’s house, so she didn’t have many clothes with her. She ended up raiding my old bedroom for anything that might fit and came back with a few pairs of jeans and some shirts I hadn’t seen in over a decade. She turned the jeans into shorts, which she’s wearing now, along with an old button-up that’s tied just above her belly button.
For a girl who grew up in the suburbs, she sure looks country. And I’m not going to lie; it gets me hard.
I ask, pushing loose gravel around with the toe of my work boots, “What are your plans now that you can take off whenever you want?”
“Holden…”
“And the house is sold…” I murmur. It sold a few days ago to that couple who came to see it when I was banished from the house. Dean has the deposit, and now we’re just waiting on settlement. “You’ll have the money soon,” I add, meeting her stare. “You still want to buy a little place there? Near Zeke and Dean?”
“Is that what you think?” she asks, sitting taller.
I shrug. “What exactly are your plans?”
Jamie looks away, saying, “Well, I was planning on going to the night market with Mia and her family tonight.”
“Jamie, I’m not playing right now.”
After a sigh, she says, her tone laced with sadness, “Have I even so much as hinted that I want to leave?”
“Not that I know of.”
She keeps her eyes on mine. “Have I given you any reason to think that I don’t love it here or that I don’t love you?”
“No…”
“Here,” she says, reaching into her pocket to reveal the RV keys. She takes my hand and places them on my palm. “Hide them, if you must.”
“That’s not—”
“You gave me a key to my garden,” she cuts in. “So, I’m giving you those.” She scoots to the side, offering me the spot beside her.
With a huff, I sit down, keep my head low.
“Babe, you have to understand that I’ve lived this life, alone, for so long now, and during that time, the only person I had to worry about was myself. So I’m sorry that I didn’t consider your feelings,” she says, then leans into me when she adds, “or that I’m not a mind reader.”