Page 6 of Snowdrop


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“Sure, that’d be nice.”

“Cool.” A goofy grin spread itself across my face as I turned away and began rummaging through the cupboards, hoping like hell there was powdered hot chocolate in here somewhere.

june

Although there was a perfectlyfunctioning kitchen table in the cabin, Evan insisted on laying out a plaid wool blanket on the floor in front of the fire. He said this was the best way to stay warm until the heat started circulating, but I hadn’t found the kitchen that cool while I was in there.

I supposed, though, the oven was radiating enough heat to keep me warm. Still, picnicking on a blanket in front of a fire withEvan Butlerfelt way too intimate for my comfort.

And yet, here I was.

“I’m sure it’s not quite as decadent as you’re used to as a chef, but this is the best I could pull together with the few ingredients I found in the cupboards. Truthfully, I wasn’t expecting company, so I only brought enough for myself of what I liked.”

He rambled as he fussed with the teacups, pouring a generous helping of hot chocolate into each and holding one out to me.

“It’s fine. I’m not so boujee that I can’t handle a cup of powdered hot chocolate.” I took it from him, blowing carefully over the top. “But that being said, I also make a damn good hot cocoa with real dark chocolate.” As I thought about last Christmas, serving it outside the Porto Roma in Italy, drifting softly on the Mediterranean, a smile lifted my cheeks. That was a good way to spend Christmas.

“I’d love to try it sometime.” His words brought me out of the memory, and my eyes settled back on him to find him wearing that same goofy grin from earlier. My stomach twisted with nerves and my mind screamed at me to throw up defenses. I couldn’t trust him. He’d hurt me this way before … luring me in and then crushing my hapless heart.

My face must have dropped because he frowned quickly and looked over the food I’d managed to pull together. “This looks amazing, June. It smells even better.” He served himself several generous helpings of everything and then held the plate out to me. Shame burned right through me as I took the plate, gritting my teeth.

“Do you think because I’m a bigger girl, I need this much food?”

He blinked in alarm, staring at me as he opened and closed his mouth as if he were a fish. “No, of course not, I just thought …” He stammered for a moment before pulling himself together. “Earlier, you said you liked food, so I didn’t want to eat it all on you and wanted to make sure you got enough.”

A different kind of shame burned through me for jumping to the worst conclusion before looking at the plate. “Oh.” I glanced back at what remained of the food, and, frankly, he’d served me exactly half of what I’d made, leaving the same amount for him. “Sorry.”

Evan lifted a hand to his neck, rubbing it slowly for a moment as he sized me up. The silence that fell between us felt uncomfortable, so I looked away and picked up my fork, hoping that by eating quietly, it would settle the discomfort.

“Listen, obviously, my apology earlier wasn’t enough. I wish I could remember what I said to you so I could take back every word individually right here and now, but I can’t. And honestly, it’s killing me a bit because how you’re acting tells me I hurt you so deeply that I realize now I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

I looked at him as I finished pushing instant mashed potatoes into my mouth. They were … gluey. Which I wasn’t even sure was a real word, but it described the sensation going on in my mouth. My mouth was sealed, preventing me from replying, and Evan interpreted my silence as either more anger or speechlessness, so he plowed on.

“My dad died when I was in high school; I don’t know if you remember that. I’m not saying it’s an excuse, but there was this kind of unspoken rule around the house that we weren’t supposed to talk about him, and we most certainly weren’t supposed to talk about how we were feeling. So, I guess that all came out in other ways … No, I don’t guess. I know now. Looking at you, I suspect I probably took that out on you in unfair ways. Then, I was the second youngest, so I was following in my brother’s shadows, and well, I don’t have to tell you what that’s like. I remember what Hayes and Clay were like in school. I’m sure you understand. But I overcompensated for having that looming shadow by being a complete and utter douche bag. So, please know that who I was then, I am not that man. I’ve tried to grow, and I can only hope you will give me a chance. Sincerely.”

He reached for my hand, still holding the plate in front of me, and touched it gently as he made eye contact with me. His gaze held mine and the genuineness in it told me he was being serious.

“I could probably try to let you off the hook. It’s been twelve years. I should be over petty bullshit by now. It’s not fair to hold it over your head when you don’t even know what you did.” The words caused a build-up in my throat, and when I swallowed upon finishing, it felt like I was trying to swallow cement.

Evan didn’t notice as he tilted his head slightly and then asked for the hardest thing he ever could have.

“Will you just tell me?”

evan

I wasn’tsure she was even going to tell me. It was obviously painful, but I hoped by opening up about my dad and brothers, it might soften her enough to me that she’d share. Then, I might have enough information that I could fix what I’d broken.

June stared at me for a long time as she tried to decide what she would do before finally opening her mouth and snapping it shut again. She frowned more before looking at the fire and watching the pieces of wood crackle and snap under the energy of the fire.

“I don’t know if it makes it worse that you don’t remember this, to be honest, but retelling it certainly isn’t a pleasant thought. When I tripped in front of you, and you called me a beached whale, I might have been able to survive that if not for the fact that, at that moment, I realized it was never a mistake on your part what happened. It all felt very … deliberate.”

My chest ached with the fear and nerves her storytelling created. Whatever it was, it wasn’t going to be good, and being accountable for the actions of a dick-brained seventeen-year-old boy wasn’t appealing. But I didn’t say anything, hoping my silence spurred her on.

“The winter formal that year, you asked me to go with you.” Her eyes finally flicked back from the fire to bore into mine with such an intensity it stole my breath as I sat there trying to remember what she was talking about. “You made a big show of it, going so far as to do one of those big displays everyone was doing, so it made it feel so … real.” She frowned, watching me for a reaction.

But I had no idea what she was talking about. My dad had died that fall, and I wasn’t into dating girls at the time. I wasn’t into much of anything, and if it weren’t for the baseball team, I probably would have become one of those stoners that stood outside the school blazing up before going to class just tocopewith my grief.

“What … exactly did I do?” I asked her slowly, trying to glean where she assumed it was me asking her out.

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