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She subtly pulls away, looking toward the children playing in the snow. "I taught him that technique,” she points with the hand I was just reaching for. “See how he’s laying his arm back and using his hips?”
“Yeah,” I say, my gaze lingering on her hand instead of the kid as I think about how I’m already fucking this up, too. “I see it.” I want to say more, to explain, to reassure her, but the words don't come. Instead, there's this growing sense of a gap widening between us, filled with doubts and unspoken fears.
"Maybe I should head back," Andi suggests after a moment. "Caroline said there were more boxes at the bed and breakfast for the tree.”
I nod, feeling helpless. I know what I should be doing. I know how to fix this. The part I don’t know is whether trying to fix it is smart. Maybe the smart thing is letting the fracture forming between us continue to widen–to let us break apart before either of us get any more invested. "Sure, I can walk you back."
We walk in silence, the festive sounds of Frosty Harbor echoing around us. I glance at her, wanting to bridge the gap, to return to the easy connection we had just this morning. But the shadow of my past hangs over us. I’m struck by a feeling of awe with how fast and how easily something so strong can start to come apart. Maybe Andi’s patience for my reluctance evaporated when we came clean this morning. Without realizing it, I was supposed to be all-in and no more doubts. Maybe. I guess I don’t know exactly where I went wrong, but I do know the right thing to do would be to ask–to make some attempt to fix things.
And yet I keep walking and not doing that. I keep letting it get worse.
“Is it okay if I just call you when I need a ride back to the cabin?” Andi asks. There’s a new coldness to her voice I don’t like at all. She’s trying to sound normal, but I can sense the lack of warmth like a knife to my chest. “Unless Caroline can drive me, that is.”
“I don’t mind giving you a ride,” I say. I smile and take a step back. I want to kiss her, but I can feel it’s not the right gesture. She wants space from me right now. It’s why she’s politely dismissing me and basically telling me to go back home. To leave her alone today.
Why the hell am I letting this unravel before my eyes? Why am I just watching it all break apart?
The questions ring loud in my brain, but no answers come.
“Bye,” she says. She turns and heads off before waiting for my response.
I watch her go, kicking myself. What the hell are you doing, Jesse?
33
ANDI
It has been getting colder in Frosty Harbor, and the chill seems to be seeping between Jesse and me. We’ve still been civil with each other, but I haven’t visited his bedroom since he came back from talking to Sarah.
We’ve crossed paths in the cabin, acted cordial, shared smiles and rides into town. We’ve helped Caroline set up various events for the Frostival weeks leading up to Christmas. We set up a big train to run around the Christmas tree in the town square with the kids. We hosted a toy drive for needy kids, organized a charity date night where some of the players auctioned themselves off for a date with lucky girls from town. Mostly, they went to dinners with sweet old women. We had a throwback disco skate night at the harbor, karaoke, bingo, and enough events that every day has been busy and full of things to keep my mind occupied. Now that Christmas is close, we’re mostly just prepping for the big Frostival finale on the ice.
I’ve even managed to spend more time with my parents than I was expecting. They’ve been downright pleasant. It’s almost like Jake wasn’t the only one secretly crossing his fingers and hoping I’d change my mind about Landon.
Other than the growing, confusing rift between me and Jesse, everything has been perfect.
But that kind of feels like saying “other than losing a leg, things have been great!”
I just wish I knew what was going through his head.
Tonight is the ugly sweater party, which actually isn’t an official part of the Frostival festivities.
It’s late evening, and, as usual, a light snow is drifting down outside the guest cabin. I walk to the bathroom and pull on the gaudiest, ugliest sweater I could find. It’s a bright red monstrosity with a reindeer whose nose actually blinks, along with the words “Ho, Ho, Ho” in big, flashing letters across my belly. I mess with my hair but can’t quite seem to feel right. I normally love ugly sweater parties, but tonight I just feel nervous.
Maybe it’s because everybody just had basically admitted they know me and Jesse were fooling around. No less than a few hours after the team confronted us, we somehow managed to screw it up? And now we’re turning one small awkward mishap into several days of near silence and cold shoulders?
I decide this whole thing is silly.
I’m going to find a way to talk to him during the party. I’ll just confront him and ask him what in tarnation has gotten up his butt. And yes, I may use those exact words because I can picture them making him smile. I’m not sure even the boundless, beautiful nature in Frosty Harbor can compete with Jesse Prince when he smiles.
With my plan firmly in mind, I head out into the night, tennis shoes crunching and slippery in the snowy path from the guest house to the main cabin. As soon as I’m outside, I hear the dull thump of music and laughter coming from the party. The team, along with some locals, are already in full party mode, it seems.
Taking a deep breath, I push the door open and step inside.
The warmth of the cabin hits me, along with the sound of holiday music and the scent of hot chocolate, cookies, and something else I can’t put my finger on.
I spot some of the usuals I’ve come to recognize and know from town events, but it’s not everyone. This is more of a Jesse thing than a Frosty Harbor thing, I guess.
I scan the room and my eyes land on Jesse. He’s wearing an ugly sweater, too. It features a cartoonish Santa falling as he comes out of a chimney. His red pants are down around his ankles and his shiny butt cheeks are on full display. Our eyes meet, and for a moment, there's a flicker of the usual butterflies and chemistry. He ruins it with a polite smile and wave. “Hey, Andi.” His voice is neutral. “Nice sweater.”
