“Well…” She pauses, nervously glances down at her notebook, and digs her teeth into her bottom lip. When she finally looks over to meet my eyes again, I don’t miss the way her gaze shines with apology. “The Bachelor Anonymous Reveal Party has been moved up.”
Jesus. The Reveal Party. I’d almost forgotten about that. I cringe. The fact that I’m supposed to choose one of the five women to take out on a second date with the intention of pursuing something further at this thing has never seemed more ridiculous.
“Moved up? What are you talking about?”
She grimaces as she answers. “I just got word that there’s been a bit of a miscommunication with the event coordination team, and instead of the party being September 4th, it’s going to be August 28th.”
“Well, shit,” I mutter. I don’t like the sound of that. That’s one less week I have with Holley around. “Maybe we should just skip date number five,” I suggest, trying to find some kind of silver lining.
She shakes her head, a painful mix of a smile and terror and melancholy all warring on her face. “Sorry, but my editor is expecting five dates, despite the change in timeline. Which really only leaves one solution.”
I raise my eyebrows in question.
“Instead of one date this weekend, you’re going to have to squeeze in two.” She grimaces again but quickly switches gears. “Saturday, you’ll go to a cooking class with Elle. And Sunday, you’ll go to one last place of your choosing with…” She pauses and digs around in her bag again for another folder. “Lucy.”
“Two dates, Holley?” I question. “Back-to-back? I think you’re going to have to find a better way.”
“It’s the only way, Jake,” she whines, and it reminds me so much of Chloe when she’s trying to get me to agree to something that a soft spot pulses in my chest. “If you don’t fit in both dates this weekend, I don’t know if I’ll be able to hit my article deadlines. If I don’t hit my deadlines, my editor is going to ream my ass. And trust me, no one wants their ass reamed by Gloria. She never, ever uses lube.”
Shit. This is her job, I remind myself. And you’re the one who agreed to do this whole Bachelor Anonymous fucking shebang, you bastard.
“I hope you realize you’re going to owe me so big for this,” I agree, her joke about her editor making a smile invade my face uninvited. “Like, big, Holley. Huge.”
“Anything you want,” she says in a rush.
As if her words just unlocked Pandora’s box of dirty fantasies, all sorts of NSFW forms of repayment threaten to come to mind, and it takes the strength of ten fucking men not to fall down that sexual rabbit hole.
Still, I can’t stop myself from saying, “I’m going to hold you to that.” My voice is gravelly with sexual hunger to my own ears; I don’t think she notices.
“Good,” she responds without hesitation, but she changes focus so fast to contestant number five that it gives my brain whiplash. “Now, Lucy,” she says, scanning through the new folder. “Even though she doesn’t have any pets, she loves animals. Especially dogs… A dog park, maybe?”
“But I don’t have any pets either.”
“So?” she questions, but her eyes keep scanning Lucy’s information. “A dog park could still be fun.”
“Just out of curiosity, Holl, would I put the collar and leash on her or me?”
Instantly, she meets my eyes and bursts into giggles. There’s a shimmer in her jade-green pupils, and I have to wonder if it’s because she’s imagining me in a collar. “Okay, yeah, no dog parks.”
I smirk. “Is there anything else she likes besides animals she doesn’t own?”
“She’s an avid reader,” she updates, sliding her finger down the page. “Loves hiking, bowling, danc—”
“Bowling,” I chime in before she can continue rambling on about Lucy’s hobbies.
“Wait…you didn’t hear the rest—”
“Because I don’t need to. We’ll go to Strike Lanes.”
Holley searches my eyes for a brief moment before shrugging one relaxed shoulder. “Okay, then, Strike Lanes with Lucy on Sunday, it is. I’ll work on getting it all set up.”
“Sounds great.” I flash a smile I don’t really feel and turn my head back to the sky, looking up at the sheer number of stars. There’s so much out there—so much beyond our little world, it isn’t even funny. And yet, somehow, the tiniest of things—like the two of us sitting here on this beach together—can feel so huge.
But when I hear the sounds of her packing up her bag, I turn my head back to look at her.
“Ready to go already?”
“Yeah. Sorry.” The corners of her mouth form a little frown. “I have to be up incredibly early tomorrow for an insanely busy day filled with finishing this article and heading into the office for several meetings. I really need to get some sleep.”