Page 87 of The Quit List
I give her a smile I hope is somewhat bright. “I knew someone like that once.”
Holly nods once, seemingly still lost in thought as I open the passenger door for her.
“Jax?” she asks quietly, making no move to get into the van.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
When my eyes meet hers, I nod at her. “No problem, Hollywood. What am I here for but brutal honesty?”
She laughs at that, the sound light and bubbling as the creek by my cabin, and my heart squeezes in my chest. “I don’t know—maybe your incredible prowess with women, your handsome good looks, your incorrigible charm…”
I snort. “Watch your mouth, Hollywood. You’re gonna inflate my head with my own words if you’re not careful.”
She’s still laughing as she climbs into the van (while I try not to look at her butt—yeah, who am I kidding? As I totally check out her butt), and I get into the driver’s seat and stick the key in the ignition.
Here we go—just me, Holly, and a whole lot of open road and alone time stretching out before us.
What could possibly go wrong?
30
HOLLY
The three hour drive to Jax’s cabin is fairly uneventful.
And I say fairly because I spend a large portion of the drive shifting positions, due to the fact that Rick the dog decided he had no interest in his dog bed and wanted to spend the whole drive sitting shotgun on my lap, tongue lolling sloppily out of his mouth.
So much for my nice new Lululemon gear.
“Sorry, Hol,” Jax says apologetically after Rick lets out a large sneeze. “You sure you’re okay with him sitting on you like that?”
“Absolutely,” I reply, wrapping my arms tight around Rick. “I’m great.”
And I really am. Because after my conversation with Jax earlier, everything in me knows I made the right choice by moving on from Dylan.
I feel relief, I feel understood. And even more than that, I feel… validation.
Validation that maybe all this so-called wasted time wasn’t entirely on me and my own idiocy. That it wasn’t all my fault that Dylan kept me strung along on a false promise.
I find I’m actually grateful for that kiss we shared at the Christmas party because it ultimately forced my hand to move on in the first place.
Better late than never.
For the first time in a long time, I’m stepping out of the box I’ve put myself in—the box that dictated that I had to always be responsible and always follow the plan.
It’s totally liberating, because what I care about right now isn’t what Dylan—or anyone else—thinks, but what I think.
And here with Jax, about to embark on a new adventure, I can finally focus on my own worth. Where I am and how I view myself.
It’s a lesson I needed to learn, and as difficult as it was—it all brought me to this moment.
A moment in time where I’m exactly where I want to be.
“Is this it?” I exclaim as Edna pulls off the dirt road and into a little clearing. Rick starts whining with excitement.
In front of us is a gorgeous little log cabin surrounded by towering Georgia pines. They create a beautiful silhouette against the rapidly darkening evening sky.