Page 2 of Snowflakes and Ice Skates

My room was exactly the same as it was the day I moved to Chicago to attend Northwestern when I was eighteen. Soft pink walls with gold accents. A pink, lace comforter covered the bed with a gold rug and desk. I’d been such a girly girl back then.

I guess I still was, but I’d learned to appreciate the simplicity and sophistication of black.

“Come down after you’ve freshened up.”

“Thanks Dad.”

Once he was gone I began unpacking my bags. It wasn’t because I was planning on staying long. It was just something I always had to do. Even if I was staying at a hotel for one night, I had to unpack. It was a strange compulsion.

I touched up my makeup and checked my curls. I debated throwing on a sweatshirt and sweats, but Mom would get after me for changing into my comfies so early in the day. Instead, I pulled on a navy cable knit sweater and brushed off my jeans. This would have to appease her.

When I got back down to the main floor I heard voices in the kitchen, so I headed that direction. I turned the corner and stopped short. Mom, Dad, and Steven were standing around the island. And so was Vince Travers.

My breathing stopped.

He looked every inch as delicious as he did when I was in high school.

My eyes raked over him while I still had the chance before they noticed me.

He was taller. At least six inches over me. His dark brown hair was short on the sides and swept back on the top. His perfect, ocean blue eyes were behind black rimmed glasses. Those were new, but I was not complaining one bit.

He was the same. Just older. Filled out. Yummy.

Ugh. Why was I thinking about him like he was a red velvet cupcake? He wasn’t delicious or yummy. He was handsome. So very, very handsome.

“Harlow, you’re here.” Steven was walking toward me, and I pulled my eyes off his friend just in time to see him coming to hug me. I squeezed my arms around him. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too.” He stepped back and looked me over. “I can’t believe you’re a college grad. My little Harlow is all grown up.”

I shook my head. As if he hadn’t changed? Gone was the golden haired-high school quarterback that the town loved. He had turned into a mini version of Dad. His blonde hair had darkened and was grown out enough to tuck behind his ears and his brown eyes held whispers of crow’s feet. The same old charming smile though. The one that got him out of trouble with our parents growing up, and into a lot of trouble with the ladies.

“Look who’s here, Harlow.” Mom cut in between us and led me to where Vince was standing, silently. He was usually the loudest person in the room. Always making people laugh. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him quiet.

“Hi, Vince. Good to see you.” Mom nudged me forward until I fell against him. He caught me and wrapped his arms around me.

Oh my gosh. I inhaled. He smelt the same. Teakwood and spring soap.

He released me and smiled down at me. “Hey, little Harry.”

My heart dropped to my feet.

Really?

Still?

Almost four years without seeing each other and he still saw me as little Harry?

I wanted to punch him. Instead, I glared and turned around.

“Who invited him?”

My family laughed, but I was serious. This was family time, and he most certainly was not a Springer.

Mom put her hand on Vince’s arm. “Oh honey, Vince is just as much a part of this family as you are.”

Not true.

I continued to glare.