Page 53 of Wish You Would

I miss his smile.

I miss being around him.

I miss being intimate with him.

Living in his house, hearing him shower, smelling the lingering scent of his aftershave—none of this is helping. It would be smart to put some real distance between us before I fall hard for Holden Banks, but I’ve spoken to my landlord about my apartment several times and it sounds like I won’t be moving in any time soon.

Not that it’s a hardship living at Holden’s place. It’s cozy and you can’t beat the location. I’ve been trying to take advantage of the proximity to the beach by going for walks before bed. Sometimes you can hear the sounds of the waves from the living room window if it’s quiet enough. But as much as I like living here, it would probably be easier on both of us if I moved out as soon as I can.

Thankfully, being back at work is providing a much-needed distraction from the mess that is my personal life. Not a lot changed in the year that I was away, so it’s been fairly easy to get back into the swing of things. There are a few new faces at the office, and I’ve become friends with a couple of them—including a guy named Wyatt, who’s around my age, single, and likes to flirt with me. I’ve toyed with the idea of going on a date with him, but every time I ask myself if I’m ready to date again, I can only see myself being with Holden.

I sigh, flopping back in my bed against the pillows that Holden bought for me. It always seems to come back to him. I miss him. Terribly. I feel like I’ve been on emotional overload the past couple of weeks, and it’s exhausting.

My phone lights up beside me with a call from Daisy, soI pick it up and swipe the screen to accept.

“Hey, Dais.”

“Hey, you free?”

“I’m in bed with Bear and we were thinking about watchingDateline.” I stroke Bear between her ears. “Isn’t that right, my pretty, perfect baby? We’re going to watch a show, just you and your momma. You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

Daisy snorts. “You realize you’re talking to a cat, right? It’s weird. You definitely need to get out of the house.”

Her comment only makes me sink further into the pillows. “I really don’t. I’m too tired and I’m crampy and there’s no way I’m getting out of my sweats. You can come over here, if you want.”

“Come on, Briar. You need to leave the house. Let’s find you a guy.”

“No.”

“How come?”

“I don’t want to find a guy.”

I want Holden.

“It’s time. Let’s go, it will be fun.”

I know Daisy’s heart is in the right place, but I really do not feel like going out tonight— I’m tired, I’m emotional, I’m pretty sure I’m on the verge of getting my period. I’d rather stay in bed with a slice of chocolate cake and a good book. But not a romance book, I’ve given those up. Right now, I want to read about a murder —the more murdery the better —because reading a swoony love story would just make me think about Holden even more.

“Okay, you win,” Daisy relents. “I’m coming over.”

Thirty minutes later, the two of us are sitting on Holden’s couch with a Tupperware full of her to-die-for chocolate chip cookies and a bottle of wine. Daisy is filling me in onthe drama between the doctor and one of the other receptionists, Hazel, at the clinic she works at.

“She realizes that it is highly unprofessional to be shoving her tongue down her boss’ throat at work, right?” I ask through a bite of cookie.

Daisy sighs heavily. “I don’t think she cares.”

Daisy tops off her glass from the bottle, then holds it up to me. “You sure you’re good with tea?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” I say, legs criss-crossed on the couch with a hot mug of camomile in my hands, wishing I didn’t feel so crampy. “So, Hazel had a little naughty time with Doctor Dick.”

She rolls her eyes. “You sound like my husband.”

I smirk. Daisy’s boss is Doctor Scott Dickens and when Tucker found out Daisy went on one date with him ages ago, he came up with the nickname, Doctor Dick. Daisy hates it. To be fair, I’ve met Scott a couple of times and he seems like a nice enough guy. Unfortunately for him, the nickname has stuck.

“I bet Doctor Dick lives up to the nickname.”

“Eww, Briar, that’s gross.”

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