The Christmas Cookie Crush (Arcadian Falls Christmas #4)

Chapter 28

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Nora

“I hate saying goodbye to you,” Austin says as we get dressed the next morning. He pulls his shirt down over his torso and runs a hand through his brown hair before reaching for me. I let him reel me in, resting my hands on his shoulders as he wraps his arms around me, gazing into his golden eyes. He dips his head for a quick kiss, then pulls back and runs the backs of his fingers down my cheek. “I miss you during the day. And after spending the night with you twice, I wish I could do it every night.”

“I think that would get expensive,” I quip, not sure why I feel the need to dispel the seriousness of the moment, but this feels too heavy, and I don’t know how to handle it.

He smiles softly. “True. But I can swing it. I’m saving a ton by staying with my grandparents, and I’ll live with them for the foreseeable future. I’ll probably want my own place at some point, but while Grampy’s still in a walker and they need help clearing snow, it makes the most sense for me to stay put.”

A sliver of guilt niggles at me. “It snowed last night. Are your grandparents okay?” I peeked out the window after I checked the forecast, and there are several inches of new snow on the ground.

He shrugs. “They’ll be fine. I’ll clear the driveway after I drop you off. But they shouldn’t need to go anywhere today.” He squeezes me tighter. “The point is, Christmas is in two days. Do you think we could get one more night together before then? Tonight or tomorrow night?”

“Tonight,” I answer definitively. “But I’ll need to go home after my shift today.” I’m scheduled to work the whole day, and while Austin’s taking me home, it’ll just be long enough to drop off my bag, grab a breakfast sandwich and coffee, and ride with Mom and Dad to ChristmasFest. Not enough time to pack for another night away. Plus, I should warn Mom. She won’t be thrilled, but being away tonight is better than being away on Christmas Eve.

“Do you have Christmas Eve traditions with your family?” We’ve talked about so many things, but that hasn’t come up. I wonder about it when we’re apart, but once we’re together, I get distracted by all the other things we talk about and do. “I assume you’ll spend Christmas morning with your grandparents, but I’d like to see you at some point that day too.”

He gives me another squeeze and a smile. “Of course. I want to see you too.”

“I got you a present,” I tell him, feeling suddenly shy. What if he hates it? What if he doesn’t wear a hat because he doesn’t want to, not because he doesn’t have one?

“You did?” he sounds surprised, like the idea of me getting him something didn’t even occur to him.

“You don’t have to get me anything, though,” I rush to reassure him. “You’ve already paid for two nights in a hotel and are about to pay for a third. That’s present enough.”

He grunts. “That’s as much of a present for me as it is for you,” he protests.

“Still. Plus, you made me the cookies. Which took a lot more time and effort than just buying something.”

He doesn’t look entirely convinced, but he lets it go. After one more kiss, he releases me. “We should probably head out so you have time for breakfast and I have time to shovel before things open today.”

When I reach for my tote bag, he glares at me and picks it up. Grinning, I wrap my arm through his as we leave.

A cute guy who makes me cookies and wants to take care of me? And amazing sex on top of that?

This might be the best Christmas ever.

I’m in the kitchen filling my coffee mug and waiting for my breakfast sandwich to warm up when Dylan comes in.

“Morning,” he says, sounding oddly subdued.

I glance at him and reach for the sugar. After making my coffee to my liking, I turn and face him, leaning against the counter and taking a sip. “Morning, Dylan. You feeling okay?”

He arches an eyebrow and fills his own mug from the coffee pot, then sips it. I guess Dylan drinks his coffee black now. I wonder when and how that came about but not enough to ask.

“I’m feeling fine,” he says after a moment of odd silence. “You?”

“Peachy.”

The microwave beeps, and I pull out my breakfast sandwich, taking it and my coffee to the table, half hoping Dylan will just take his coffee and go, but I know better.

He sets his coffee on the table at a seat across from mine and pulls out a bowl. With his head halfway in the pantry, he says, “You were with Austin last night?”

“Yup.” I pop the P, hoping against hope that my clear disdain for this conversation will end it before it really begins. The last thing I want is to discuss my dating life with my brother. Either brother, honestly, but especially Dylan and especially when I’m dating Austin. He’s been so weird about it already, and I have no desire to hear more of what he thinks.

Sadly, monosyllables and snarky tones aren’t enough to stop him. He clanks around, pouring cereal and milk and grabbing a spoon, putting away the cereal and milk, then shoveling a giant bite into his mouth before taking his seat. “What’s going on with you two?” he asks, talking with his mouth full like the disgusting pig we all know and love.

I circle my finger in the air in front of him. “Does Lydia ever tell you how gross that is? Because honestly, I don’t know how she puts up with it. Is that the real reason she hasn’t moved in with you yet?”

Eyes narrowed, he swallows and swipes the back of his hand across his mouth. “Lydia’s not here right now. Answer the question.”

“So your girlfriend’s absence is what makes you feel bold enough to be disgusting? Noted. I’ll be sure we only interact with her present from now on.”

He rolls his eyes, and I sip my coffee, burying my smile in my mug. “You know he’s staying here, right?” he demands, fortunately without food in his mouth this time.

Nodding, I pick up my sandwich, blowing on it to cool it down before taking a bite. “It might surprise you to know that we actually speak to one another,” I murmur, deciding the sandwich is cool enough. It’s not really, the hot, melty cheddar scalding my mouth. But I’ll burn my mouth if it means finishing my breakfast faster and thus ending this conversation faster as well.

He lets out a half laugh. More like saying, “Ha,” than an actual laugh. “Here’s the thing, Nora,” he says, setting his bowl down and leaning his forearms on the table, his face surprisingly earnest. “You swore off guys not that long ago.”

“Last spring,” I correct. “After Aaron. It’s been nine months.”

He flicks his fingers dismissively, and I grind my teeth, forcing myself not to react in a more obvious way. “Nine months isn’t that long, though. I thought you were focusing on yourself. Getting your head on straight. Figuring out your life.”

“I am,” I grit out. “I’m not sure what dating Austin has to do with any of that, though.”

“Don’t you?” he asks, picking up his mug and staring at me over the rim. He shakes his head like a disappointed father, which is rich considering he’s only two years older than me. Not even. Twenty months. “Nora, you took forever to even declare a major. Then you picked psychology, but now you don’t want to go to grad school.”

“So?” I don’t bother to point out that I picked the fast-track program, and I’m still graduating a year early despite waiting to declare my major. He knows. That doesn’t matter to him. Not for whatever point he’s trying to make now, anyway.

“So, what are you going to do? Why even bother studying something you’re not willing to pursue? What are you doing? What are your plans?”

He sips his coffee then takes a bite of cereal, and for once, I regret telling him not to speak with his mouth full because maybe he’d have something else to say right now.

But no. And let’s be real, if he had something to say, he’d say it, full mouth or no. He doesn’t care what I think. He never has.

Instead, I’m left stewing in the reality of my own indecision.

“I’m figuring it out,” I grit out at last.

He raises a doubtful eyebrow, swallowing his food and taking another sip of coffee. “Are you? Because it seems to me that you’re wasting time with Austin as a way of avoiding the issue.”

I splutter, dropping my sandwich on my plate. “Please, like you’re somehow qualified to tell me what to do?”

He shrugs a shoulder. “I know where my life is going. What I want. I have a plan. What do you have?”

More spluttering because I certainly don’t have an answer. “Time,” I finally hiss. “I have time. Time to figure it out. And I certainly don’t have to justify my decisions to you.”

His face seems to soften. “Look, Nora, I know Mom and Dad and everyone else have been after you about your plans after you graduate. And that’s not what I’m trying to do here.” He holds up his hands when I give him a doubtful look. “I swear I’m not. I’m just worried about you. And Austin.” He pauses, seeming to roll the words around in his mouth, tasting them before saying them out loud. “I think we can both agree you don’t have the best track record when it comes to dating,” he says slowly.

Pushing back from the table, I cross my arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He turns his hand palm up on the table. “C’mon, Nor. You know exactly what it means. You date guys for a few weeks or a month or two, and then you dump them. You’re the love ‘em and leave ‘em type. You’ve never been known for your ability to follow through or be reliable.” My jaw clenches so hard it hurts, and I grip the table, my fingernails digging in. Dylan either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care because he keeps talking. “You’ve always bailed last minute on shifts at the store and ChristmasFest.”

“Not anymore,” I spit out, unwilling to listen to him tell me how shit I am without getting in some kind of defense, even if I know he won’t care.

“Okay.” He nods like he’s grudgingly conceding the point. “Good. I’m glad you’re finally stepping up.”

The “Ha!” bursts out of me before I can stop it, but he just gives me a pitying look.

“Even if you’re finally growing up?—”

“Finally?” I repeat in a sarcastic mutter, but he ignores me.

—“what’s going to happen in a week or two? You’ll be gone, back to school, taking your time to figure out what comes next—which you should do!” He throws that in as though to forestall a protest from me, holding his hands up like he’s defending himself. “You should absolutely take your time and figure out what you want to do with yourself once you’re done with school.” He lowers his hands down to the table again. “But Austin’s staying in Arcadian Falls. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you always talked about getting out of here. You were gonna leave and not come back.”

“I always planned to visit,” I grumble.

He gives me a cut the crap look. “Visiting isn’t the same as living here. And you and I both know it.”

My thoughts swirl with all the different possibilities that have been cropping up over the last six months or so, especially the ones that have been pushing themselves to the forefront since I started dating Austin. “It’s true that I wanted to leave Arcadian Falls for college. Sarah was the only one of us who never wanted that. She’s been working toward taking over the store since she was in high school and it became clear that Ty had no desire to do that.” I spread my hands palms up. “But it wasn’t because I hate it here. I just didn’t see anything for me here. But we both know it was always an option for me to come back after I graduate. That’s basically been the Plan B the whole time.”

Dylan raises a doubtful eyebrow, once again leaning forward with his forearms on the table. “And you’d be happy with that? Taking Plan B for your whole life?”

I smirk. “It sounds like you’re talking about the morning-after pill.”

He doesn’t smile back, though, instead glossing over my attempt at lightening the moment. “I’m serious, Nora. Would that really make you happy?” He presses his lips together, studying me for a beat and taking a deep breath before continuing. “I know you like Austin. I can tell. And that’s why you need to think about what’s best for him, not just what feels good for you right now. His future is here. Is that really what you want for your life? To be stuck in Arcadian Falls forever?”

Frustrated, I pull my hands off the table and clench them in my lap. It feels like nothing I say matters to Dylan. According to him, I’m still just a flaky teenager who apparently leads guys on and breaks their hearts. “You don’t understand,” I grit out.

“Don’t I?” He spreads his hands again. “I met Lydia here last year, remember?”

I throw up my hands. “Then I don’t get it. You of all people should support me! I know you feel possessive of Austin, but you can’t seriously be that upset about me dating your childhood best friend. You guys lost touch years ago!”

Shaking his head, he gives me a pitying look. “It’s still different, Nora. You and I are different people.”

“Still,” I insist. “It’s not that different. And you had a long-distance relationship with Lydia.”

“Which is why I know how hard it is.” Leaning forward, he punctuates his words by jabbing a finger into the table. “And with Lydia, I knew it was going to be temporary. She was getting things figured out. That’s why she came to Arcadian Falls in the first place. She never planned to stay here permanently. It was always temporary. And we knew before I left that she’d be coming back to Seattle for the next semester. That made it possible to get through. And say what you want about how much you’ve changed, I know you, Nora. I know what you’re like. Is that really what you want? A long-distance relationship with no end in sight? You have trouble dating a guy on the same campus for more than six months!”

His words sting, a thousand tiny flails that bite into my skin. “Maybe a long-distance relationship would be perfect for me then.” It comes out sounding pouty and petulant, but I don’t have a better comeback. It’s true that I haven’t had a relationship last longer than six months or so. But none of those guys were worth staying in a relationship with for longer than that. I shouldn’t have stayed with some of them as long as I did! But trying to explain that will only make Dylan think I’m proving his point. That I don’t know how to pick a good guy. So maybe I’m picking a wrong guy again? Or maybe his point is that I’m the common denominator. I’m the reason men are terrible to me …

My jaw clenches at that thought. I’m not the reason those guys ended up being assholes. I just didn’t know how to recognize the red flags at the beginning. And I’ve spent a lot of time since my last breakup examining the things all those assholes have in common. Some of them just weren’t good fits, and those were the guys that I let go of after a few dates. The ones that stuck around … well, they all seemed nice in the beginning, but after a few months, they stopped making efforts.

Standing, Dylan drains the rest of his coffee and takes his mug to the sink. “I’m just saying, Nora. You gotta think about what’s best. For you and for Austin.”

With that, he leaves me to finish my breakfast, though what I’ve eaten so far sits like a lead ball in my stomach.

I take one last sip of my coffee, swallowing it along with the acid rising in my throat, then dump the rest in the sink and toss the remains of my sandwich.

Dylan’s wrong, though. He doesn’t know me. Not really. Not the way he thinks. And he doesn’t know what’s best for me. Or for Austin.