He slides a finger under my chin and pulls my gaze up to his. His height is shielding the rain from stinging my eyes, but the drops are sliding down his face, over his lips and down his neck. His hair is soaked and matted to his forehead, so I wipe a strand out of his eyes. He already needs a trim again.
“Let’s not let this be your life tonight,” he says. “Let’s get back in the car and pretend we’re driving away because we want to…not because we need to. We can pretend I’m taking you somewhere amazing…somewhere you’ve always wanted to go. You can snuggle up to me and we can talk about how excited we are and we’ll talk about everything we’ll do when we get there. We can talk about the important stuff later. But tonight…let’s not let this be your life.”
I pull his mouth to mine and I kiss him. I kiss him for always having the perfect thing to say. I kiss him for always being there for me. I kiss him for supporting whatever decision I think I might need to make. I kiss him for being so patient with me while I figure everything out. I kiss him because I can’t think of anything better than climbing back inside that car with him and talking about everything we’ll do when we get to Hawaii.
I separate my mouth from his and somehow, in the midst of the worst day of my life, I find the strength to smile. “Thank you, Holder. So much. I couldn’t do this without you.”
He kisses me softly on the mouth again and smiles back at me. “Yes, babe. You could.”
His fingers have been slowly lacing through my hair. My head is resting in his lap and we’ve been driving for over four hours. He turned his phone off back in Waco after receiving pleading texts from Karen, using my phone, wanting him to bring me back home. The problem with that is, I don’t even know where home is anymore.
As much as I love Karen I have no idea how to grasp what she did. There isn’t a situation in the world that could ever make stealing a child okay, so I don’t know that I’ll ever want to go back to her. I plan on finding out as much information as I can about what happened before I make any decisions on how I need to handle this. I know the right thing to do would be to immediately call the police, but sometimes the right thing to do isn’t always the best answer.
“I don’t think we should stay at my father’s house,” Holder says. I assumed he thought I was sleeping, but it’s obvious he knows I’m wide-awake since he’s talking to me. “We’ll get a hotel for tonight and figure out what we need to do tomorrow. I didn’t move out of his house on the best terms this summer, and we’ve got enough drama to deal with as it is.”
I nod my head against his lap. “Whatever you want to do. I just know I need a bed, I’m exhausted. I have no idea how you’re still awake.” I sit up and stretch my arms out in front of me, just as Holder pulls his car into the parking lot of a hotel.
After he checks us in, he gives me the key to the room and leaves to go park the car and get our things. I slide the key card into the door and open it, then walk into the hotel room. There’s only one bed, which I assumed he would request. We’ve slept in the same bed several times before so it would have been a lot more awkward had he requested separate beds.
He returns to the room several minutes later and sets our bags down. I rifle through mine, looking for something to sleep in. Unfortunately, I didn’t bring any pajamas, so I grab a long t-shirt and some underwear.
“I need to take a shower.” I grab the few toiletries I brought and carry them into the bathroom with me and take an extremely long shower. When I’m finished, I attempt to blow dry my hair but I’m too exhausted. I pull my hair up in a wet ponytail instead and brush my teeth. When I walk out of the bathroom, Holder is unpacking both of our bags and hanging our shirts in the closet. He glances at me and does a double take when he sees I’m only wearing a t-shirt and underwear. He eyes me, but only for a second before he glances away uncomfortably. He’s trying to be respectful, considering the day I’ve had. I don’t want him treating me like I’m fragile. If this were any other day, he’d be commenting on what I was wearing and his hands would be on my ass in two seconds flat. Instead, he turns his back to me and takes the last of his items out of his duffel bag.
“I’m going to take a quick shower,” he says. “I filled up the ice bucket and grabbed a few drinks. I wasn’t sure if you wanted soda or water, so I got both.” He grabs a pair of boxer shorts and walks around me toward the bathroom, careful not to look at me. As he passes me, I grab his wrist. He stops and turns around, carefully looking me in the eyes and nowhere else.