Four Nights before Christmas
Lizzy, Rose, and I piled out of the rental car in front of a house with a large front porch and an attached garage. It had a tall gabled roof with dormers. Simple construction circa the 1940s, but it was well maintained and sat across the driveway from an enormous barn.
The wind bit frozen teeth at our cheeks and whipped at our coats.
Lizzy shrugged her shoulders toward her ears. Her hair blowing across her face.
"You cold?" I asked. "Do you want my hat?"
"No, I'll be fine." She jerked her head toward the barn. "It'll be warmer in the arena."
It took us a few more strides before we realized Rose had stopped. She shook her head and glared at me. "I'm going to need you to remember that you're supposed to be my boyfriend."
"Shit, right." As an afterthought, I added, "Do you want my hat?"
She turned to Lizzy, her eyes wide. "What did you do to him? He's, like, fully lost his mind."
Lizzy's face broke into a shy smile. If I hadn't already lost my mind, the dimple pressed into her cheek would have sent it on its way.
Cringing, I begged, "Be cool."
"You first," Rose demanded.
Avoiding a patch of ice, Lizzy started walking again. "Let's get inside, it's freezing."
Stepping through the door, I let it slam behind me. It was warmer, not exactly comfortable, but the bitter wind couldn't snap at us anymore. The building was lit by rows of florescent lights. The smell of dirt and animal mixed in an almost pleasant way. At the far wall, stairs lead to an overlooking catwalk and offices. The dirt covered floor was mostly open, with only a sidewalk's width from the fence to the wall.
Rose narrowed her eyes, searching the face of a man speaking to a group of high school aged kids huddled together. He had at least some of their attention. His hands pushed deep into his pockets. "Is that Jack Brooks?"
"It is." Lizzy nodded.
Tilting her head, wrinkles creased Rose's forehead. "He looks different."
"He got a makeover for the bachelor auction a couple of months ago."
Rose's jaw dropped. "Bachelor auction?"
"It was so fun!" Lizzy's eyes glinted.
I couldn't help smiling at the two of them.
"Who is that?" Rose asked, her eyebrows shooting upward.
A man easily a few inches taller than my six foot one loomed to the right of Jack.
"That's Remi. He moved here to work at the animal clinic. Brooks works there too. Do you remember Hazel Matthews?"
"Nerdy girl, frizzy brown hair?"
"That's her. She bought the clinic from Doc March."
"Oh cool, good for her."
"Then she bagged Elijah March."
"No shit!"
"Yes!" Lizzy's eyes were bright as she passed on the gossip. "It's really freakin' adorable. He is so into her."
"Aw, well that's just cute." Rose pursed her lips to one side, before asking, "Is he still like…" She lifted her eyebrows.
"Oh yeah. The man has aged well."
"I'm still right here," I pointed out.
"Don't worry, you're pretty too," Rose joked.
"So pretty," Lizzy whispered to her boots.
I wouldn't say I liked being called pretty, but when it came from Lizzy…
A door on the second story opened and shut. A man in worn jeans and a flannel waved down to us. He was obviously their cousin on their dad's side. He could have been a younger, slightly smaller version of Jim. "Horses are in the stables. Give me ten minutes. I'll be right down. Glad to see ya, Bud."
"You too," Rose called back, then she and Lizzy led me back to the freezing outside and into a different building. Wooden stalls with hay covering their floors lined the walls, most of them containing a horse. Just like every other time I'd come near one, I did not like their size.
We spent most of the day in the arena. The girls rode a couple of different horses to give the giant beasts exercise. My heart stuck in my throat each time either of them guided over a jump, kicking up patches of the dirt floor. They'd offered to help me ride. I'd almost said yes to Lizzy. Each time I shook my head, enjoying the feeling of my feet on the ground.
She did convince me to brush her mare before she led her to the stables.
"Like this?" I asked, more focused on the rise and fall of her breasts than my actual task.
"Not like that." She rounded under the horse's neck and placed a hand on mine. We froze, the sensation of her skin hot on my fingers. Her body was close enough that I could smell her sweet sweat over the scent of horse and dirt. My eyes followed her flannel covered arm to her face. Our mouths were inches apart.
The distance was dangerous.
She swallowed.
My blood rushed low.
"Like this," she directed, a little breathless.
It wasn't until she pulled her hand back and swiped it over her ponytail that I regained the presence of mind to glance around. Luckily, only Rose was positioned to see us, with an annoyed pinch of her lips.
I mouthed, Sorry .
She rolled her eyes.
I did a better job avoiding Lizzy after that.
Before we left, Rose and I posed for a photo with one of the horses. It stood perfectly still, with its head between our shoulders. But I couldn't shake the fear that it might do something sketchy. It was just too big.
Lizzy lowered Rose's phone from in front of her face. "Will, you're glaring at Milkshake."
I leaned further away from the gargantuan animal. "It's called Milkshake?"
"How else would the boys get to the yard?" Rose asked.
She and Lizzy gave a sarcastic, "Duh," in unison.
Milkshake blew a gust of breath through its nostrils, and I jumped about three feet in the air.
"Let's get her away from him. She doesn't deserve this," Lizzy suggested.
I took a few steps sideways. "It's to my back. I can't relax."
"She, not it's," Rose corrected. Sharing an irritated look with Lizzy. "Go over by the fence next to the saddle. I'll be right there."
She made a clicking sound at the back of her teeth and began leading the mare away. My muscles were wound tight, but as the distance grew between me and Milkshake , my heart rate lowered. I rolled my shoulders and neck.
Lizzy tilted her head, considering me. "I didn't realize you were scared of horses."
"I'm not scared. I just don't trust them."
"Hmm. Important distinction."
I scoffed. "They're too big."
"Did you have any fun today?"
"Some. I liked watching you." I lowered my voice just above a whisper.
"I might have been showing off a little."
Denying the desire to hold her, to kiss her smirking lips, to tell her that the more I got to know her, the harder I fell was like denying that water was wet. She was right there, but completely out of my reach.
And I only had myself to blame.
"Alright," Rose called as she stepped back into the arena. "Let's get this photo and head home."
Lizzy
Four nights before Christmas
"Thanks for letting us ride," I said, bumping my cousin Emmett with my shoulder.
"Sure, anytime." He squinted toward Rose and Will, talking and laughing as they strolled to the exit. "What do you think of him?"
My expression remained neutral, even though I was hyper-aware that they had zero chemistry. They acted more like siblings than romantic partners. It was clear that they enjoyed each other's company, but it did not seem like they wanted to sleep together. With my hands tucked into my coat pockets, I shrugged. "He's nice. Why do you ask?"
"He doesn't seem weird with—" Emmett cut himself off to say instead, "to you?"
Did he actually say 'with'?
"He's been," I kicked a divot in the floor with the toe of my boot, "very nice. Good house guest. All of that."
"They just don't seem really into each other."
I was still struggling to think over the anxious voices in my head, when he continued, "But then, maybe this is healthier for her."
"Than the way she is with Lawrence?"
Emmett nodded. Only a couple of years older than me and Rose he'd always been much more observant and mature. It wasn't surprising that he'd noticed the dynamic between her and Will, or between me and Will.
"It's probably good that she and this new boyfriend are obviously…friends."
"Friends can become more, right?" It was as close to convincing as I could muster.
"I guess so. It just usually happens before they start dating."
The pit of my stomach grew heavy. It was one thing to lie to my parents. They didn't seem suspicious, but Emmett had always looked out for me. When people turned mean back when Rose and I had our falling out, he stood up for me. And throughout the entire day he hadn't mentioned that it was strange for the two of us to hang out.
I sighed, hating the words I had to say next. Not just because he was my favorite cousin, but also because not so deep down—kinda right at the surface—I wanted Will for myself.
"Rose and Lawrence…are intense."
Emmett lifted an eyebrow.
I went on, beginning to see parallel lines between their situation and mine. "When they're in the same room, it's like they can't tell anyone else is even there. But she's not manic with Will. I think you're right. I think it is healthier."
"I hope so. Anyway, you liking him speaks highly."
The weight in my stomach turned leaden.
He glanced around the empty arena. The only other person in the building was his business partner, Missy. But she was up in her office with the door closed. "I know a lot of people are over Lawrence and Rose's drama—"
"—Mostly Shay," I interrupted.
A rare smile split his lips. "Mostly Shay. But I've always rooted for them."
My eyebrows pinched together. "Are you a romantic?"
"Does that make me one?"
"It might."
He lifted his shoulders and let them fall. "Then maybe."
Rocking Around the Christmas Tree carried through the closed doors of the KC Hall. A group of my parents' employees stood huddled just outside, smoke and steam around their mouths glowing red from their cigarettes. The smell of nicotine burned in the frosty night. I jerked my head in hello before snaking inside the warm building. With a shiver, I shrugged out of my coat in the coat room and hung it on a wooden hanger that was probably older than me. I had to really throw my shoulder into parting everyone else's winter wear to make room for mine to fit.
My palms ran over the soft wool of my ugly Christmas sweater. Shay had made it required attire for the office party—considering I'd just walked past a man with the words 'I'd Rather be Wearing a Welding Mask' knitted across his chest, I thought she was on to something.
Just like at home and the shop, Mom had pulled no punches on the decorating. Unlike home, she'd skipped the traditional cozy feel and gone for a 70s look. Complete with a white tree decked in red garland and lights with shiny silver bulbs. The only green in the banquet hall was on the sweaters worn by the attendees. The room was lit in technicolor from the twinkle lights blanketing the drop ceiling. In the corner, perfectly wrapped presents were topped with extravagant bows. She'd even constructed a temporary fireplace with a television playing a burning log mounted inside of it. Another TV hung above the bar playing Prancer . Mom always claimed it was mine and Rose's favorite, but it didn’t explain her obsession with the movie.
I rolled my eyes as affection warmed my chest. At least Mom still loved her work.
My gaze tugged to my left, landing on Will, as if compelled. Was it possible that I'd felt the pull of his eyes on me? That from across a dark room full of people, I'd been drawn to the heat of his stare?
Everyone else faded, the music quieted, until it was just us.
It was a pale comparison to the greeting I wanted—this prolonged eye contact. My heart swelled and broke all at once. In a few days he'd leave, and I wouldn't have to resist my feelings any longer. But in it's place would be his absence.
I wasn't sure which was worse.
"Hey girl." Shay bumped me with her elbow, popping the bubble.
I blinked, my mouth hanging open, gathering myself. "Uh, hi."
She took in Will standing next to Rose, his arm wrapped around her waist. My cheeks burned.
Apprehension filled the dark pools of Shay's eyes, and something else that looked a lot like pity. "You're still about that? Even with all the red flags?"
"There are a lot of green flags, too." There was no denying my argument was pathetic.
She pursed her lips.
"I know you don't like it," I said.
"No, I don't."
I tugged on the neck of my sweater, feeling entirely too hot. "There's just something there. It's…new to me."
It was the biggest understatement. As if the pull between the two of us was because of how fresh it was.
What if it is? I swallowed, ignoring that nagging voice.
"Fine." She pointed toward the buffet table. "You hungry? The charcuterie board is my romantic interest tonight."
I grinned, grateful she'd let me off the hook for now. "Food would be great. We went to Emmett's today, and I kinda forgot to eat."
"Mm," she took a step, her heeled boot clipping on the floor, "how's my future husband doing?"
I scoffed. The list of men she planned to marry was long—not as long as the list of men she'd rather never see again. But my beloved cousin was not her one true love or anything.
I glanced around, ensuring that we were the only two people near the food table. "He's annoyingly observant."
"He saw through the whole thing?"
"Maybe." Perusing the spread of cured meats, fruits, and crackers, I grabbed a plate from the stack. "I think I smoothed it over for them, though."
"That must be weird, with how you feel about him ."
"It's no big deal."
"Right," she said, the word dripping with sarcasm. Her focus moved past my shoulder, and she groaned. "Will you excuse me? I need to remind Lawrence to blink when he stares at your sister."
It didn't take me long to spot Lawrence sitting on a bar stool, with one boot propped on the rung. He was amongst his socializing coworkers. But his eyes were, in fact, trained across the room where Rose stood with Will at her side.
The longing etched into Lawrence's features—his covetous gaze, the tight set of his jaw, the pinch between his eyebrows—felt like he'd held up a mirror for me to peer into.
It had always scared me how consumed Rose and Lawrence were with one another. My emotions for Will were stronger than I'd felt for anyone else. I had to believe that we could be different. We could burn without exploding, without decimating ourselves and singeing everyone around us.