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Holt: I’m sorry. Please, don’t shut me out.
Holt: I love you. This isn’t how I wanted you to find out.
Holt: I’m so fucking sorry. Please don’t do this to us. If you would let me explain.
Holt: I can’t sleep.
Holt: This apartment isn’t a home without you.
Holt: I love you.
Holt: I fucking love you.
Holt: I will never stop loving you.
Mason: Dude, what did you do? Holt is a mess.
Mason: You’re ignoring me now?
Mason: Fucking mature, dude.
Shepard: I thought I was the asshole.
Shepard: I shall call you King of the assholes
The last one made me laugh. At least I wasn’t completely broken. In need of a shower maybe, but not broken. Only the thought of getting up again would use too much of my energy. Something I didn’t have much of.
I opened the photos app on my phone and stared at the picture of Holt. I couldn’t remember where it was, maybe a racetrack, but he looked beautiful. His dark hair was a tangled mess as he smiled up at me. Was he lying on my lap? It looked like he was. His hazel eyes sparkled with happiness; and shit, I was going to cry again. Something I wasn’t used to, but it felt like he’d stabbed me in the back. I had a flash of him straddling me, us kissing, and then it was gone. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get the memory back again. Fuck.
Watson: Where was this taken?
I saw the bubbles come up that he was responding. I’m sure he was surprised after the radio silence that I was reaching out. But I needed answers.
Holt: Riverside Speedway.
My heart shot up into my throat. The first place we met. Holt was shy, quiet, but I got him talking and laughing by the end of the night.
Watson: Why did we go there?
Holt: You wanted to take me there. It was sort of like a date.
Fuck. Why couldn’t I remember? Why was my brain trying so hard to block it out if it was such a good memory for us?
Holt: Watson? I’m sorry. I really wish you’d talk to me.
Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. I dropped my phone screen-down on the bed. My body was already exhausted and telling me to rest.
The next thing I knew, someone was knocking at my door.
“Watts, sweetie, you have a visitor,” Mom called out. It was dark again. Shit, what time was it?
I grunted. “No visitors,” I reminded her. She knew not to let Holt in, unless he was here to see her, so maybe it was Shepard or Mason. Still not happening.
“Too late, asshole. I drove all the way over here.”
I didn’t recognize the voice. “Who is it?”
“Killian. Now let me the fuck in. Uh, sorry, Mrs. Brooks.”
