Page 36 of Once Upon a Holiday Vacation
With a frustrated groan, I tossed my phone aside and stood up. I strode to the kitchen, snatching my keys off the counter.
As I shrugged on my jacket, my gaze lingered on the framed photo of Easton and me at his college graduation. His proud grin, my arm slung around his shoulders—we looked so happy, so carefree.
“I’m sorry, East,” I whispered, my throat tight. “I really screwed this up.” Shaking off the melancholy, I yanked open my front door. The emptiness of my apartment seemed to mock me as I stepped out, the silence echoing in my ears.
“Time to be useful,” I muttered, locking up. “Maybe putting out some fires will help me forget about the one I started in my own life.”
As I jogged down the stairs, my phone buzzed in my pocket. For a heart-stopping moment, I thought it might be Easton. But it was just the station confirming my extra shift.
I tried to ignore the disappointment settling in my chest as I climbed into my truck. This was for the best. A few more shifts, a little more distance—maybe then I’d figure out how to fix the mess I’d made.
But as I pulled away from the curb, all I could think about was Easton’s warm hazel eyes and the way they’d lit up when he looked at me. And how I might never see that light again.
The station bustled with activity as I strode in, forcing a grin onto my face. “Hey, guys, who’s ready to save some lives?”
“Look who decided to grace us with his presence,” Jake called out, tossing me a helmet. “Thought you were off today, Holt.”
I caught it effortlessly, grateful for the distraction. “What can I say? I missed your ugly mug.”
As I suited up, I threw myself into the familiar routine. The weight of the gear settled on my shoulders, grounding me. For a moment, I could almost forget about my problems.
“Alright, team!” Captain Reeves barked. “We’ve got a brush fire on the outskirts of town. Let’s move!”
The adrenaline surge was exactly what I needed. As we raced to the scene, I focused on the task at hand, pushing thoughts of soft hazel eyes and gentle smiles to the back of my mind.
Hours passed in a blur of heat, smoke, and teamwork. My muscles ached, sweat dripping down my back, but I welcomed the burn. It was easier than dealing with the ache in my chest.
“Nice work out there, Holt,” Jake said as we headed back to the station. “You were like a man possessed.”
I shrugged, aiming for nonchalance. “Just doing my job.” But as the adrenaline faded, exhaustion set in—and with it, the thoughts I’d been trying to outrun all day.
Later, as I sat in the break room, I found myself all alone with my thoughts. I closed my eyes, remembering the way Easton’s lips had felt against mine, soft and hesitant at first, then growing bolder. The memory of his hands, those long, elegant fingers tracing patterns on my skin...
“Dammit,” I groaned, scrubbing a hand over my face. “What the hell have I done?”
The shrill ring of my phone pierced the quiet, startling me out of my reverie. I fumbled to grab it, my heart skipping a beat when I saw the caller ID: “Mama B.” Easton’s mom.
For a moment, I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the screen. What if she knew? What if Easton had told her everything? But this was Mama B—the woman who’d been more of a mother to me than my own. I couldn’t ignore her call.
Taking a deep breath, I answered with forced cheer. “Hey, Mama B! What’s up?”
“Weston, honey!” Her warm voice filled the line. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything important?”
“Nah, just on a break at the station,” I replied, leaning back in my chair. “Everything okay?”
“Oh, everything’s fine. I just realized I haven’t heard from you since you boys got back from your cruise. I called Easton but he sounded tired, so we didn’t get a chance to really talk about it. So, how was it? Did you have a good time?”
I swallowed hard, memories of moonlit nights and stolen kisses flooding my mind. “Yeah, it was great. Really... relaxing.”
“Oh, wonderful! And how was Easton? Did he manage to put down his books and actually enjoy himself?”
I couldn’t help but chuckle, picturing his adorable pout when I’d dragged him away from the ship’s library. “He did, actually. We, uh, we tried a lot of new things.”
“That’s my boys,” she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. “I’m so glad you two had each other. You know, Weston, I’ve always thought of you as another son.”
Her words, so full of love and acceptance, made a lump form in my throat. If she only knew how I’d hurt her real son. “Thanks. That... that means a lot to me.”
As we chatted, I found myself relaxing, swept up in her warmth and genuine interest. It was so easy to talk to her, to share the funny stories and exciting adventures—carefully edited, of course. But with each word, the weight of what I’d left unsaid grew heavier.
