“And if it can’t be avoided, just keep it chaste. A little peck.”
“Sure.” I walk to where Summer sits at the table and hold my hand out. “You ready?”
Her eyes bounce from Justin to me, and when our stares connect, I don’t even hide my appraising of her.
I thought Summer couldn’t top the red dress from the other night—she was killing me in that thing—but tonight, she looks incredible in a green velvet button-up with two pockets over her chest. All the buttons are white pearls, making the top seem fancy for Christmas. I can imagine her finding this in a store and being so excited to wear it to the Christmas hoedown. But the best part of her outfit is the denim mini skirt, gold snowflake belt buckle, and red cowboy boots. She looks like she walked straight out of a cowboy’s winter wonderland.
Out ofmywinter wonderland.
I pull her to a stand, and we stare at each other for a second, her hand still in mine.
Man, if given the chance, I’d never let her go.
“Don’t stay out too late,” Justin says behind us as we walk hand in hand to the door. There’s a level of stress in his voice that I haven’t heard before when it comes to me hanging out with Summer. I don’t blame him. If I were Justin, I wouldn’t trust her with me tonight either.
I’m not even sure I trust myself.
“Text me!” he says.
Then I leave with his girlfriend.
* * *
“So,do you think Jordan will be here tonight?” Summer asks as we enter the old cultural hall where the hoedown takes place. I’m glad she’s talking. She spent the entire car ride here, staring out the window, away from me.
“I have no clue if Jordan’s coming to this thing or not.”
She goes up on her tippy toes and cranes her neck like she’s looking over the crowd for her. “If she’s here, I don’t mind letting you two dance.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Yeah, why not?” She tries smiling, but there’s fake written all over it. “You two seemed really enamored with each other.”
“Enamored?”
“Yes, smitten. Fond of.”
“I know what it means.”
“Great.” She looks at me with that same fake smile. “So you two should try and dance together tonight.”
“And how will you explain to your family that your boyfriend is dancing with another woman?”
Her face gets flustered.
“That’s what I thought.”
“But if we see her, you can still talk to her.”
This is getting ridiculous.
I lean in, crowding Summer with my closeness. “Do youwantme to be with Jordan?”
Summer holds still, her eyes flitting across my face. “No.”
“Good. Because Jordan’s not who I want.”
Her chest rises with an unsteady breath. I grab her hand and weave her through the crowd, glancing up at the ceiling. That’s a heck of a lot of mistletoe. The entire decoration committee just became my best friends. They weren’t joking around when they named this dance the Mistletoe-Down. There’s mistletoe every five feet, under every archway, every doorway, at the center of every table (although, I don’t think it counts if you’re not standing under it).Avoiding getting caught under mistletoe tonight will be harder than avoiding snowflakes in a snowstorm, but I’m not complaining. I welcome the challenge.
