Educating Holden (Wishing Well, Texas Book 11)

by Melanie Shawn

  “Hi, beautiful!” As I hugged her back, I couldn’t help but think that this outfit was seriously going to go to waste if I didn’t have a Holden run-in.

  As we both sat, she wagged her brows. “I’m guessing your date went well.”

  “My date?” My mouth watered as I looked down at my plate. Maisy had ordered me my go-to lunch at the Spoon: club sandwich, wheat toast, side of fries, and a pickle spear. I grabbed a fry, dipped it in ketchup, and popped it into my mouth.

  “You left last night to go on a date, right? And you are glowing this morning, soo…”

  I shook my head as I finished my fry. “Oh no, I didn’t…I mean yes, I did go to dinner with someone last night, but nothing happened.”

  Her face scrunched up. “Was he the nose picker?”

  “He had an itch.” I defended Tyler again and determined in my mind not to tell anyone about my dates in the future. It was difficult enough figuring out what my instincts were about someone without the input of my friends and family clouding my judgment, which was obviously not to be trusted since I’d pined after Holden for all these years.

  “So what happened? You just didn’t like him?” Maisy popped a piece of chicken strip in her mouth.

  “I don’t know…he’s just…” He’s not Holden. “He’s not the one.”

  “What are you looking for in the one?”

  “Um…I’m not really sure.”

  Her brows lifted and it was clear that she did not believe what I was telling her.

  She knew me well enough to know that if I were looking for someone, I would know exactly who or what sort of person I wanted. And she wasn’t wrong. I knew exactly who I wanted. “You aren’t really sure?”

  “I mean, I did make a list.”

  She rubbed her hands together excitedly. “Oooh, what’s on the list?”

  “Obviously, I have to be attracted to them.”

  Her head tilted to the side as she studied me. “What is your type? I mean besides Channing Tatum. The actor, not your dog.”

  I did love a man that could dance. But other than that, I wasn’t really sure. The truth was, I didn’t really have a physical type. No two guys I’d ever dated had shared similar features or body types. I was attracted to people for different reasons, but no one had ever come close to what I felt for Holden.

  “I don’t really have a type. It’s more about chemistry and feeling that spark.”

  “Fair enough. So, what’s on the list?”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about the wedding? I figured that’s why you—”

  “No!” She cut me off. “That’s the last thing I want to talk about. I texted you because I needed a break. I don’t want to think about invitations, or seating arrangements, or cakes, or my dress, or anything wedding related. I didn’t sleep at all last night driving myself crazy. I need distraction!”

  It didn’t surprise me that she was obsessing about the details. Maisy was more type A than I was.

  “So, the list,” she prompted again before stuffing four French fries in her mouth.

  “Um…” I picked up my phone and pulled up my Notes app. “Honesty. Sense of humor. Athletic. Kind. Family oriented. Driven. Passionate. Challenging—”

  “Challenging?” she interrupted me, looking genuinely confused.

  “I get bored very easily. I can’t be with someone who just agrees with everything I say and doesn’t ever challenge me to be a better person or get out of my comfort zone.”

  “Speaking of comfort zone!” Her eyes lit up. “Molly told me that you were going to start doing naked yoga,” she whispered the last two words.

  I smiled. She was acting like I’d started an OnlyFans account. “I did. This morning.”

  “Did you like it?”

  “It was okay.” I shrugged. I’d actually thought that I’d feel more rebellious, or something. But all I’d really felt was cold. And I had the strangest feeling, like someone was watching me. It hadn’t freaked me out, or anything. But I doubted I’d do it again.

  “Okay, continue.” She waved her hand toward my phone.

  “Wants to have kids. Shares the same values and morals that I do. Is handy. Can change a tire and the oil in a car.” I lifted my hand. “Because I can do those things, so I feel like it’s only fair that he can. Which brings me to something that I haven’t written down: he has to own a vehicle.” I’d been out with two guys that were ‘between cars’ and I’d had to pick them up. It was a deal breaker for me.

  I looked back down at my list and continued reading, “Ambitious. Is just as happy staying home on a weekend night as going out with friends. Has sex appeal. Has strong friendships. Understands me. No smoking. No drugs. No baby mama drama. They can have kids,” I clarified. “But no baby mama drama.” I set my phone down and picked up a triangle section of my sandwich.

  “Wow… that’s…a lot.”

  “Is it?” I took a bite and set my sandwich down. “I mean, Bentley would tick all those boxes for you. And Jackson ticks all those boxes for Josie, and—”

  “No, you’re right.” She interrupted me. “It sounded like a lot, but I guess that’s not true. There are quite a few guys that would.”

  I finished another bite of my sandwich and wiped my mouth. “And you want to know something really depressing? I’ve actually met guys that tick all those boxes for me, but there’s still just something…missing.”

  The something being they are not Holden Reed. I sounded like a broken record, one that needed to come off the turntable.

  I’d romanticized what we meant to each other for far too long. He didn’t love me. It was that simple. I’d still hook up with him in a hot second, but I had to stop thinking he was ever going to be my happily-ever-after. “But I have two dates this week, so we’ll see.”

  Two of the guys I’d hearted this morning had already got back to me.

  “Two?”

  “It’s a numbers game,” I explained.

  “Who are the guys?”

  “I matched with them on Love at First Click.”

  “What’s their names?”

  It had been only a few hours since I’d agreed to go on the date, but for the life of me I couldn’t remember anything about them, including their names, so I answered honestly. “No idea.”

  “You’ve been going on a lot of dates lately.” The way she said it wasn’t judgmental at all, but I could hear something in her tone that was more than just observational.

  “Yep. Like I said, it’s a numbers game.”

  Maisy lifted her coke and took a drink. Then set it down and took a deep breath. It was obvious that she had something to say, but she didn’t want to say it.

  “What?” I blurted out.

  “I know it’s none of my business,” she cringed. “It’s just a weird position for me to be in now because you’re my best friend so my loyalty has always been to you, but Bentley is my…”

  “Box ticker,” I filled in the blank but then immediately regretted it. “That sounded so much dirtier than I’d planned, which is gross because we’re talking about my brother.”

  We both chuckled.

  “Yes, Bentley is my box ticker, so my loyalties are torn.”

  “Loyalties?” Bentley had always been my biggest supporter and protector. I couldn’t imagine what could possibly be happening that would make Maisy feel like she had to pick sides?

  “Never mind.” She shook her head as she picked up more fries and lifted them to her mouth.

  Unfortunately for her, I had cat-like reflexes and a long reach. I swatted them away before they reached her lips. “No! Huh-uh! You can’t just drop a loyalties bomb and then retreat. Spill.”

  “I mean, you’re going to find out sooner or later,” Maisy reasoned. I wasn’t sure if she was saying it to convince herself or me.

  My stomach dropped. I couldn’t imagine any scenario when my brother would have done anything to hurt or embarrass me, but from the way that Maisy was acting, that is exactly
what he’d done. “What did Bentley do?”

  “He offered to let Holden stay at his condo and asked him to keep an eye on you.”

  I heard the information my friend had just given me, but it took me a moment to process what she’d said.

  “Holden…he…what?” I said nonsensically.

  “Please don’t be mad at your brother,” Maisy rushed out. “He’s been really worried about you since he moved in with me. He wouldn’t rent out the unit because he was scared to move the wrong people next door. He’s even driven by your place after he knows you’ve been out to make sure you got home. He loves you, he’s just a little… overprotective.”

  I hadn’t heard a word she said after Holden stay at his condo. But I was sure I must’ve heard that wrong, so I clarified. “Holden is moving into the duplex?”

  “He already did.” She said slowly as if she was breaking news to me, which she was. “Last night.”

  “Holden was there last night? He spent the night there?”

  Her brow furrowed. “As far as I know, why?”

  “He was there this morning?”

  “I mean, yeah, I think so, why? What’s wrong?”

  “Remember that naked yoga I did? Well, I did it in my backyard.”

  “Oh, okay,” she nodded, still not understanding.

  “The backyard that is visible from the bedroom in Bentley’s side of the condo… where presumably Holden is.”

  “Oh.” My friend’s eyes widened, and her mouth dropped as awareness dawned on her, but she had a fast recovery. She waved her hand dismissively. “I’m sure he didn’t see anything. Bentley said Holden looked really tired when he left, and he drove all the way from California, so I’m sure that he slept in.”

  I nodded and she continued talking, totally oblivious to my inner freak out. I wasn’t sure how to process the information that she’d just given me. Holden Reed was living next door to me and he’d promised my brother that he’d “keep an eye on me.” I would’ve liked a whole lot more than his eyes on me. I’d been open to new opportunities coming my way, and the universe had delivered in a big way.

  If I wasn’t going to have my happily-ever-after with Holden that didn’t mean I couldn’t be friends with him. The sort of friends that may or may not have benefits. It wasn’t the worst idea in the world to try and get him out of my system.

  The truth was, no mortal man could possibly live up to the near superhuman status I’d built Holden up to in my mind and heart. He was just a normal human being. A mortal. Not some superior sexual being. Chances were that getting to know him again, and, dare I even think it, sleeping with him would take some of the shine off of his untarnished reputation in my mind.

  I doubted he’d be open to becoming BFFs again, but I knew that I could use his proximity and the knowledge that I did have about him to my advantage. A plan quickly formulated in my head for how I might be able to make that happen. I just needed a little help…

  Chapter 9

  Holden

  “Ya’ll know that continuous improvement is better than delayed perfection.”

  ~ Maggie Calhoun

  The sun was shining, my windows were down, and I was blasting Tim McGraw’s newest single as I drove past Old Man Spratt’s field on the way home after my PT appointment. I hadn’t been looking forward to meeting another doctor, but I’d been pleasantly surprised with Dr. Jake Weston, my new physical therapist. He was a young guy, probably around my age, and he specialized in sports rehab. He’d worked with Olympic athletes, and professional football, baseball, basketball, and hockey stars.

  His focus was on a more holistic approach, one that included diet, lifestyle, and gave just as much weight to mental well-being as it did to the physical. During my appointment, he’d talked to me about something called radical acceptance. It was basically the practice of accepting things the way they were without judgment. He said it had helped countless athletes whose careers had been cut short by injury.

  Basically, it was all about perspective. My accident happened. I needed to accept that without attaching any emotion or value to it. Negative or positive. His belief was that finding peace of mind was imperative to my recovery. Without it, it would be nearly impossible to heal my body.

  What he’d said had definitely made me think. I wasn’t sure if I could actually get to that place. But if someone were able to practice radical acceptance, I could definitely see the benefits.

  The song cut out when a call came in. I glanced down at the display screen on the dash and saw that Kurt was calling. My first instinct was to ignore it, especially since he’d instructed me to answer the phone when he called. My family used to joke that if they wanted me to do something the easiest way to get me to do it was tell me to do the opposite. But I wasn’t a rebellious teenager, I was a grown man.

  “Hey,” I answered on the third ring.

  “How did it go?”

  “It was fine.” Jake had mentioned that he’d spoken to my doctors in California, so he was basically just continuing my treatment. The facility wasn’t quite as state of the art, but I didn’t need all the bells and whistles.

  “Do you think it’s going to work with Dr. Weston? I can look for someone else, but you might have to go into Dallas.”

  As much as I appreciated Kurt’s hard work and loyalty, I knew that we needed to have a conversation. Kurt had represented me since I was fourteen years old, he was like family. But there weren’t going to be any more competitions or endorsements. Our professional relationship was over.

  “You really don’t need to do that.”

  “Yes, I do. It’s my job.”

  “We both know that I’m never gonna ride again.”

  I waited for him to argue with me like he had right after I got hurt. He’d tell me miracle stories of people that died and came back to life or overcame worse injuries than I’d sustained. I wasn’t sure if he’d been trying to make me, or him, feel better.

  But at this point, I wasn’t the only one who needed to have a little radical acceptance in their life.

  “Kurt?” I prompted when he didn’t respond.

  “What?”

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Yeah. What’s your point?”

  “My point is you don’t represent me anymore because there’s nothing to represent,” I barked, frustrated that I’d had to say it out loud. It wasn’t his fault, and when he was silent for a beat, I felt like a dick that I’d snapped at him. It had pretty much become my default emotion these days.

  “Do you ever open your emails?” he asked what I could only assume was rhetorical since he already knew the answer. “You have about a dozen brand deals and a new Old Spice campaign offer.”

  I understood the Old Spice. I’d worked with them before. This would be my third campaign with them, but I had no clue about the other stuff. “Brand deals?”

  “Yep.”

  “For what?”

  “You want me to list them all?” It was clear from his inflection that was not something he wanted to do.

  “Why am I getting brand deals when I’m not even on the circuit anymore?”

  “Your social media.”

  I’d only agreed to have social media because Kurt had promised that other than doing a few lives and some photos, I’d never have to do anything with it. Sometimes people would ask me in interviews about posts “I’d” done, but unless it was brought to my attention, I had no clue. I wasn’t even sure I knew the login to any of my accounts. “My social media?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t do anything with my social media.”

  “I know. I do. Well, I hired people that do,” he corrected. “And they’ve done a good job. You have five million Instagram followers and your YouTube page blew up after…”

  “After my wreck,” I finished.

  “Yeah. The video’s been viewed over twenty million times and you’ve gained over a million subscribers.”

  “Okay, what does that have to do with the
offers?”

  “You have a built-in audience. That’s monetizable.”

  “It is?”

  “Yes. Your career has always had an expiration date,” Kurt explained slowly, as if he was speaking to a child, which in this case I could see why he would feel like that. “You never wanted to talk about it, but I’ve been planning for this for years.”

  It was true, I’d never paid attention to the business side of things. I’d focused solely on winning championships. For years, he had tried to bring up life after the rodeo, but he was right, I’d never wanted to talk about it.

  “Don’t worry about any of that now. Just get stronger. Healthier. I’ll check in soon.”

  The call disconnected and music once again started playing through the speakers. I tried to block out the conversation that I’d just had with Kurt. I didn’t want to think about my social media accounts or brand deals. I wanted to be back in the chute giving the nod. I wanted the adrenaline rush of riding a 2000-pound bull while he does everything in his power to buck me off. But those things were never going to happen again.

  Radical acceptance. It was something I definitely needed to work on.

  I pulled up in front of the duplex and noticed that the large bay windows on Olivia’s side were open. Which meant, chances were, she was home. Not that it was unheard of for residents of Wishing Well to leave their windows open even if they were out. It was a small town with very little crime. Everyone knew everyone, and everyone looked out for everyone.

  It was part of what had driven me crazy growing up.

  I was the sheriff’s kid and I’d watched my older brothers not get away with anything, because someone always found out and told my dad. Thank God I’d had rodeoing. If not, I think I would’ve gotten into a lot more trouble than I did.

  My oldest brother Hudson was a deputy at the sheriff’s office now, but in his day he’d been quite the troublemaker. And my middle brother Hayden, who was a former Army Ranger, had also been a hell-raiser.

  They’d both spent more weekends grounded than not. But I’d stayed out of trouble, because I’d had something more than freedom that I hadn’t wanted to be taken away from me. If I didn’t get good grades or got caught drinking, smoking, sneaking out, or coming home after curfew, I wouldn’t be able to compete or train.