Page 23 of In Your Dreams, Holden Rhodes

“When we were listening to Rihanna and drinking prosecco on my couch two weekends ago.”

I snorted. “Right. I didn’t mean like this, though.”

“The renovation sounds fun.”

I bit my lip, glancing at my rendering of the sitting room with the entrance to the secret library. “It’s going to be incredible.” My mouth twisted.

“I’m going to miss our Sunday brunches, though.”

My heart gave a little tug. “Me, too. I miss you already.” I wrinkled my nose. “I miss Toronto. It’s so quiet here.” I glanced at a photo of Katherine, sitting on the side table, and my chest tensed with guilt. “I should have visited more, though.”

“But you said that Holden guy was such an asshole.”

My nose wrinkled. He was. His look of disdain fifteen years ago, as he told me I couldn’t join on the hike, flashed into my head and my stomach tightened. “Hmm. Yeah.”

I should have talked to Katherine about it. I swallowed past a thick throat.

“You’re there now, and it sounds like you’re making the best of it.”

I nodded. “Yeah. The renovation is for her. We both agreed on that.” I shook myself. “Anyway, enough about me. What’s new with you? Oh, shit.” I gasped as I realized something. “I’ll miss your exhibit.”

Willa taught painting at a community college in Toronto, but her dream was to be a painter full-time. She did at least one exhibit a year with a local gallery. All our friends would get all dressed up and go to support her. She had been working on her upcoming collection for six months.

“Ah, it’s all good. You’ve got your hands full over there.”

Guilt stabbed me in the gut. Willa was there for me when I needed her. I’d have to find another way to make it up to her.

As Willa filled me in on her painting progress, the latest gossip with our friend group, and which of her students were flirting with each other, I missed Toronto more and more. I missed my friend and my old neighborhood with the coffee shop where the barista always gave me a free cookie. I missed the energy of the city, buzzing and bustling.

Willa and I said our goodbyes and hung up, and I sat in the sitting room for a few minutes, staring out the window, missing home.

My time in Queen’s Cove was temporary. A six month blip where I could sort my life out before I returned to Toronto, debt-free and on the right track.

11

Holden

“I amlovingthe vibe in here,” Sadie said, bobbing her head to the nineties music.

The Rusty Bucket, a dive bar in the nearest town to Queen’s Cove, was packed for Juicy Taco night. String lights stretching above us faded into different colors every minute and the servers wore pink wigs.

Across the table, Sadie wore a short, hot pink dress with a green palm print. Her ponytail swayed as she glanced around the bar with big, bright eyes.

She leaned in, smiling at me with a sneaky expression while she took another sip of her margarita.

“Alright, talk to me, Holden. Who’s catching your eye?”

I had been to this bar before, because Div did drag shows here once a month, and Hannah invited me once. It was fun. I had fun.

Sadie didn’t know this was a gay bar, though. Sadie didn’t realize the women at ladies’ night at a gay bar had no interest in me.

Her, though. With that silky hair, a cute dress that skimmed her curves, and glowing, welcoming smile, she was like a beacon. Every time I glanced around, someone was eyeing her.

I didn’t blame them.

Sadie Waters had been stuck in my head for the past few days. Sunday night, I had walked into the bar, hoping to zone out, watch sports highlights, and shoot the shit with Olivia, butshewas there, striding around in those jeans that fit her ass perfectly and a big smile for everyone.

My chest pitched at the idea of seeing her every day, and my curiosity was at an all-time high. She needed money, badly, and I wanted to know why. If she was in trouble—

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