Remember when I said I shouldn't make decisions when I'm hungover?
Yeah. I didn't take my advice. Don't judge me for it, you little judge-y person.
Because I'm not actually hungover, like, under-the influence. I'm hungover on a moment in time that's long since gone but one I can't stop thinking about so it feels like it's still happening. Kind of like when you wake up after a night out and still feel drunk? It's all I'm thinking about so the ability to make rational and clear-minded decisions is next to impossible.
Yet that's exactly what I did this morning when I decided to go biking to clear my mind. But that's not all I did.
I chose to go on a trail that I've never seen, in a city I've only been living in for two months, with a hungover brain that didn't think to dress properly for the occasion. I'm talking shorts that I convinced myself I could still fit into, that are currently riding up my ass crack every time I pedal. I'm talking a black tank top that's absorbing so much sun someone could bake their eggs and bacon on me. I'm talking a total lack of bug repellent as I drive through a swampy trail full of mosquitoes that won't stop trying to get into my ears and nose.
I have to assume they're male mosquitoes if they won't stop trying to jam into the wrong hole.
"Gah!" I slap the air by my ear when there's a buzz that's way too loud for my comfort. My bike veers and wobbles and I fight to get it under control. Did I mention this trail is full of twigs and branches that are so not made for biking? "You little shits! I'm about to throw you at the next spider I see!"
Then I pause because holy fuck, are there spiders here too?!
Why did I do this to myself?
Oh yeah. Maybe because I didn't catch a lick of sleep last night, tossing and turning and thinking about my non-enemy enemy and how I finally kind of sort of know what his lips feel like. Then I woke up determined to make up for all the time I lost spent thinking about him and decided I would do something for myself. Anything to not feel like a teenager hung up on my first crush, which is embarrassingly partly true.
"You couldn't have spent time at the bakery?" I mutter to myself, swinging off my bike and brushing down my legs that are covered with leaves and dirt and dead mosquitoes that sucked the blood out of me. "You know, that shop that you pay a lot of money for and need to improve drastically?"
I sigh in resignation and look around with my hands on my hips. I don't recognize where I am. At all. The trail I'm on gives way to three different paths that could take me anywhere. I don't even remember which one I used to get here. It's also six in the morning and there's no one in sight. A serial killer could literally appear out of nowhere with the proverbial target I've put on myself. I could be murdered in plain sight and no one would ever know. He'd dump my body in that pond just over there and no one would ever know and Holden will probably end up with that woman he had a one night stand with and Mom and Dad will probably find my vibrator.
Okay. I'm freaking out. Bad.
The sun is just barely visible, blocked out by the hundreds of leaves swaying from the gentle breeze above me. I wrap my arms around myself in a lame act of protection. I practically have a bullseye on myself.
"Don't worry," I tell myself. "You're a big girl. Nothing's going to—JESUS CHRIST."
I spin on my heel at the sound of a twig breaking, the crunch sounding like a gunshot as far as I'm concerned. I hold my water bottle as a weapon and ready to whack the culprit but don't see anyone. At least not until the bushes rustle and a little squirrel jumps out, acorn in hand and looking right at me. Its nose twitches and I could swear it's laughing at me right now.
"Asshole," I mumble at it. There's that nose twitch again and my eyes narrow. "Fuck you too, buddy."
I'm cussing off a squirrel. Nice.
I groan, my ass hitting the dirty trail path. Now what? I have a feeling if I call the police they'll arrest me for being a pussy. But it's not like I know who else to call. There's only one person in this city I know and I groan again when I realize I have no choice but to call him. This is so typical. Sierra does something dumb, and golden Holden swoops in all perfect to save the day. He's probably loving this.
Realizing it's my only option, I take my cell phone out of my fanny pack and open it up. Then I stare at Holden's name in my contact list (Satan AF) for a solid minute before reluctantly pressing the call icon. Part of me hopes he won't pick up so I can save myself the embarrassment but then my chest sinks because the call goes through. Of course.
"Holden Rey," He greets formally. His voice sounds deep and grumbly and shoots straight to my hoo-ha, the little slut. One tiny almost-kiss and she's ready to get some.
"Hey." I try to sound like I'm not currently thinking of doing the dirty with Satan. But I am. I so, totally am. Gah. You were better off cussing the squirrel. "Um, are you busy right now?"
"Sierra?" There's obvious confusion in his voice and what sounds like sheets rustling. "Fuck, what time is it?
I frown when I realize something. "You didn't know it was me calling? Don't you have me saved in your contacts?"
"No."
My jaw drops with genuine offence. "Of all the things you've said and done to me, this hurts the most."
"Funny," He grunts, sounding genuinely irritated. "What's with the call?"
"Is it really that hard to not be an asshole for two seconds of your life?"
"This is my first day off in three months and it's not even seven in the morning yet."
Oops. I wince. "Okay. Fine. I'm the asshole this time. Can we move on?"
"I insist," He deadpans and I make a face even if he can't see it. Note to self: Satan is sassy when sleep deprived.
"So it's not a big deal or anything because seriously, I'm totally fine, but I kind of got lost and I need you to get me."
The line goes silent for a moment. I wait patiently for him to process that information. "Do I even want to know how?"
"Is that a yes? You'll get me?"
"Why can't you find directions on your phone?"
"Because my data isn't working out here. It's all woodsy and isolated."
Another deep sigh. "Where is 'out here'?"
"I don't know! If I did I obviously would have gotten home myself, genius."
"Are you really going to imply that I'm stupid when you went and got lost in the woods before the sun came up?"
"Forget it," I hiss and my thumb moves over the red icon to end the call.
"Stay where you are," He demands. "I'm coming. Christ."
Some of my anger deflates when he agrees. He might be a pain in my ass but he's seriously doing me a solid. I also feel bad for ruining his day off, especially because he's a total workaholic so I know what a big deal it is for him to actually take a day off from work.
"Thanks," I mumble. "I promise I won't be a problem after this."
He releases a breath and for a second I think he might say something snarky back but then he responds with, "You're not a problem to me. Sit tight."
Then he ends the call and I'm left blinking at nothing in particular. Um, hel-lo? How will he know where I am? And what did he mean by what he said? You're not a problem to me. That has to be the most bizarre thing he's ever said to me, right after admitting that what he's afraid of most is losing me.
My cheeks grow warm at the reminder of yesterday. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that he actually said all those things to me and it wasn't a dream. That he felt the way he did and it wasn't just me experiencing all these confusion emotions. Part of me is glad I'm not the only one and part of me is nervous because now all of this feels real. It's one thing to feel a certain way about someone in secret. You can pretend those feelings don't exist and you're allowed to be in denial for as long as you want. But when that person feels the same? Denial doesn't belong to you anymore. And not having that, the ability to just put your feelings behind you when they get overwhelming, has this awful way of freaking you out and making you want to run.
For a moment I understand why Holden is so obsessed with control. It's not easy to accept change but it's a little more bearable when you're responsible for it. But when everything around you is changing and you can't stop it or slow it down, that's when you realize how truly insignificant you are in this journey called life. How powerless you are. That's when you realize you're kidding yourself if you think you'll ever have it figured out one day. You won't. The best you can hope for is learning as you go along, and accepting that we simply aren't meant to find the answers.
I have no idea how things got so deep. That seems to be a theme for me lately. I just can't help but question every aspect of my life and where it's going. I feel like I've already wasted valuable time and made too many mistakes. I don't want to make anymore.
I'm admittedly kind of sulking by the time I hear the sounds of twigs and leaves crunching followed by tires rolling on cement. Then it goes deadly quiet again. Either Holden is here or it's the axe murderer I was mentally preparing myself to stumble upon. I grab the branch next to me and hold it out for protection, ready to whack-a-mole whoever I need to. My fingers tighten around the branch when the footsteps become louder. That's when I see a head of dark hair, and a moment later equally dark eyes lock on to mine. My shoulders slump forward, loosening.
"That's your weapon of choice?" Holden raises a brow pointedly. I look down at the thing. Okay. Branch might have been an exaggeration. It's a twig, at best.
"Whatever," I mutter and throw it over my shoulder. I finally get a good look at him when he steps into view and I blink. "You're not in a suit."
His other brow goes up. "It's my day off."
"So? I honestly thought you slept in them."
"I sleep naked."
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. I bite my own tongue in an attempt to not swallow it down and try to ignore the way my skin bursts into tingles at the very R rated image in my head. Little Sierra is having a party downstairs and it takes way too much effort to ignore her. I doubt I'm doing a very good job because Holden watches my face for a moment, and then his mouth tugs up into the slightest smirk.
But seriously, this is the first time I've seen him sans suit and I hate how he looks even better than usual. Grey sweatpants, white thermal, and bedhead. Wow. His eyes are hooded with exhaustion and I try not to bristle when they drop to inspect my body lazily.
"Shorts are too small," He declares bluntly. I choose to believe the rasp in his voice is because he just woke up.
I clear my throat and yank down my shorts that have ridden so high they can be considered underwear. "I noticed. How'd you find me?"
"Find my iPhone."
"Does that mean you finally added me in your contacts?"
He rolls his eyes. "Yes."
I grin back, wide and genuine. "Good. That's all I ask."
He shakes his head but he doesn't seem annoyed. Kind of resigned, with a ghost of a smile flickering across his lips. His lips. Is there any part of him that isn't insanely and annoyingly attractive? Did his midwife inject him with the blood of the Salvatore brothers when he was born? Sheesh.
"I think I'm awake enough to handle the story of how you got here."
He walks over the remaining distance and sits beside me on a large protruding root of the tree behind us. He's close enough that we're arm-to-arm, thigh-to-thigh, and he smells amazing. Like his obnoxiously expensive cologne and spearmint and black coffee. He even smells successful, the total opposite of the disaster that I am.
"It's not that interesting." I play with the ends of my shorts and yank them down every few seconds self-consciously. It doesn't help that Holden's gaze keeps drifting to my bare legs. Did this place just get hotter? "I wanted to go biking—"
"In this? The mosquitoes probably got you good," He interrupts.
He lifts a hand and brushes his thumb over one of my more obvious mosquito bites on my upper thigh and my breath catches. So Holden is obviously a touchy dude once you get past his ice walls and I have no idea what to do with that information. I simply nod at his question and pretend like my soul hasn't left my body. Holden doesn't bother pulling his hand away either so I don't think that bitch is coming back.
"Uh-huh." I clear my throat. "So, uh, it was barely first light when I started this trail and a few minutes in I heard something behind me. I thought it was a bear so I kind of ran for it. One thing led to another and when I finally stopped to catch my breath I had no idea where I was. The main roads could be anywhere."
Holden's mouth twitches and I swear it looks like he's trying not to laugh. A moment later I get why. "Sierra, we're only ten minutes away from our complex."
What the what? I feel my brows pull in. "But I was pedaling for a long time."
"The beginning of the trail is not too far from here. I'd say you pedaled for a minute, max."
My jaw lands on the floor. "Now I know you're lying. I was going really fast!"
He rubs a hand over his mouth, almost like he doesn't want me to see his amusement. "The geography doesn't lie. We're only a couple of minutes ahead of the trail."
So this is embarrassing. My mouth twists down. "Man, I'm out of shape."
"You look fine to me." His words are low and smooth, almost daunting. Our eyes lock and my stomach swirls with the most insane heat. It could be my obviously impaired imagination but he's looking at me like he's seconds away from grabbing my face and pulling me towards him. Our faces are close enough that he could do it. Will he?
"Thanks," I mumble nervously even though he doesn't need an answer. The word vomit just won't seem to stop. "Consistent exercise, you know? A good diet. I probably cheat on it more than I should but at least I'm not what I was ten years ago."
Those dark eyes shutter, like he's remembering something, and his mouth morphs into his ever-present frown. "Fuck are you saying that like you didn't look good ten years ago, either?"
"What?" The incredulous question tumbles out of my mouth. Because looked good and ten years ago are two sentences that never go together in my world. Least of all from Satan. Wasn't he always embarrassed of my weight? Wasn't that why he stopped talking to me?
I open my mouth, ready to demand just that, when I feel it. Something skitters across my arm and I jerk, looking down. Then I proceed to release a scream that could probably shatter any window within a hundred-mile radius.
"Get it off!" I shriek, jumping to my feet and trying to run away from it even if it's on me. But right now nothing makes sense because ohmygod, it's fucking crawling on me.
"Jesus," Holden hisses and gets to his feet too. Even he looks a little skeeved out at the centipede making it's way to my shoulder. "You have to stay still, Sierra. Let me grab it."
I have to stay still while it literally tries to make a beeline for my ear? No, thanks. I shriek again and grab my shirt, tearing it off and the centipede with it. Then I fling the shirt to high-heaven and run backwards. Except I don't see the branch behind me and the back of my shoe bumps into it. A second later I go down, hear Holden scream my name, before ice cold water engulfs me from all directions.
I just fell in the fucking pond.
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A/N
I'm crying. Sierra is a hot mess and I love her. You guys can't tell me you can't relate to the disaster she is.
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Happy Reading :)