Page 82 of The Quit List

But the problem isn't that I can’t. The problem is that I don’t want to.

I haven’t wanted to go out with anyone for a while now. The only woman I think about is the one I can’t freaking have.

Holly wants long-term. She wants love and commitment. And I, above all else, want her to be happy. Even if the thought of her finding happiness with someone else is starting to give me a stomachache.

So when I try to say no, it’s not Holly…. I can’t.

I swallow, and the word “yes” leaves my mouth.

Kara nods, like she expected my answer. “Lucky her.”

I couldn’t disagree more with her statement, but I also know that I can’t dwell on that right now. Because despite that unfortunate “yes,” Holly and I are not together, and that’s how things have to be.

This is my time to do or die. My chance to get my business off the ground and running successfully. I can’t fail.

Won’t fail.

I’ve put my money, my time, and my energy into this dream, and it cannot come to nothing. And even though I’m now entering this experience with feelings I cannot be feeling for the woman I’m taking with me, I will do everything I can to keep this hiking trip streamlined and productive.

Professional.

We’re just going to drive up to the cabin, do a little three day hike while capturing content for social media and the website, and then we’re gonna get the hell outta Dodge. And I absolutely will not do something dumb like try to kiss her.

That’s the plan. And that’s what’s gonna happen.

28

HOLLY

Some people say that absence makes the heart grow fonder.

This week, my lived experience has been more absence makes the heart go haywire.

Because I am freaking the hell out right now. I’m T-minus twenty minutes from taking off for a few days—and nights—in the wilderness with Jax Grainger. The man who I pretty much gave full invitation to kiss me… and in response to my brazenness, he kissed me goodnight on the forehead in the most platonic way imaginable—like he was tucking a little child into bed.

Awesome.

“I’ve got you in a King Suite for three nights, breakfast included,” I tell Mr. and Mrs. Goldberg, an elderly couple who stay at the Pinnacle about three times a year. They live down in Pensacola, spending their golden retirement years on the beach soaking up the Florida sunshine, but their daughter lives here in the city. She has a long-haired cat—who Mr. Goldberg is unfortunately highly allergic to—so the couple stays with us instead of with her when they visit.

“Thank you, Holly,” Mr. Goldberg says. “And does the suite have?—?”

“A jacuzzi?” I nod. “Sure does, as you requested.”

Mr. Goldberg winks—yes, winks—at me. “Wonderful. Mrs. G and I love to take a jacuzzi bath when we’re here.”

He doesn’t actually come right out and say that they jump in the tub together, but it’s heavily implied. And while it’s sweet that they still clearly love each other in a way that they want to express physically, it also isn’t what I want to be picturing right now in my already fragile mental state.

“Well, you enjoy that,” I reply woodenly.

“Oh, we will.” He taps his keycard on the reception desk jauntily. “We’re going for dinner with Catherine tonight, but we will see you in the morning, I’m sure.”

“I’m afraid I won’t be here after this afternoon. I’m taking a few days off.”

“Lovely, dear,” Mrs. Goldberg twinkles. “Going anywhere nice?”

“The Appalachians,” I say with a smile.

Even so, my stomach fills with a heady mixture of nerves, anxiety, and butterflies for the millionth time. The day is finally here, and I hope to all hell that I didn’t bite off more than I can chew. That I wasn’t completely out to lunch when I practically insisted Jax bring me on this adventure.