Page 46 of Holly's Grizzly

For one breathless second, I think he’ll ask me to stay.

Would I say yes?

It would be insane to say yes.

We’ve known each other for all of four days. This isn’t… real. It can’t be real.

I don’t know if I can even trust my own judgment here.

I spend a few days with a guy who’s nice to me and incredibly good in bed, and now I’m… what? Head over heels for him? As broken as I might be when it comes to relationships, I should have a little more skepticism than that.

Only…

Even at my most jaded, I can’t make myself believe that’s all this is.

Irving isn’t just nice, he’s one of the most naturally kind, caring, thoughtful people I’ve ever met.

Andgood in bedmight just be the biggest understatement known to man.

But I can’t make sense of it.

My nervous system feels entirely overwhelmed, my thoughts are fried, I can’t trust my own wobbly instincts, and Irving still hasn’t said anything.

But Vic is waiting, and the seconds are still slipping by faster than I can process.

Desperately, I reach for any last excuse to stall.

“Can I see yours? Your phone?”

Irving nods silently and grabs it from the end table. I give him my number just like he gave me his, handing it back with a small, shaky smile.

“There. Now you can call me, too.”

He nods again, something unsettled and unreadable in his eyes. My chest swells with hope, with one last wild, desperate moment of belief he’ll be brave enough for us both.

But in the end, Irving doesn’t ask, and I don’t say anything, either. I just do my best to keep that smile on my face as I press one last kiss to his lips.

It’s meant to be gentle, a goodbye, but a moment after our lips meet, he lets out a low growl and tangles a hand into my hair, gripping hard. I gasp, and he deepens the kiss. His other hand finds my lower back and he crushes me against him, keeping me held firmly in place.

Outside, Vic taps on his horn, and I pull away from the kiss with panic and denial and sadness and a million other emotions welling up in my throat.

“I should go,” I whisper, not knowing what else to say and not quite able to make my feet start moving toward the door.

Irving nods, slow and reluctant. “You’ll drive safe? You’ll be careful on your way home?”

“Yeah. I will.”

Another pause, seconds ticking by, and Irving strokes one last gentle touch against my cheek.

“Goodbye, Holly.”

“Bye,” I whisper, and then I’m finally moving.

Out the front door, across the wet, muddy gravel on the driveway, to the passenger door of Vic’s truck. I open the door and climb in, and only then do I look back.

Irving stands in the open doorway, backlit by the warm light from inside the cabin.

He stays there as the truck pulls away. He doesn’t move an inch as we reach the end of the drive, as the cabin disappears into thick pines at the bend in the road, never taking his eyes off me.

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