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“Outwardly, yes. But I know you, Brie. You’ve loved him for a long time.”
There was the l-word again. I pick up a scrap of paper under a desk and focus on wadding it up into a tiny ball with my fingers. My feelings are hard to explain out loud. “Things ended on such a strange note between us, a few feelings might have stayed hovering in the periphery. I’ve never had a solid sense of closure.”
“So, you think this is like when someone dies and you have to see the body to know they’re gone?”
“Exactly.”
“Brie, he didn’t die. You have to realize that spending time with him might open doors instead of closing them. You have to be decisive.”
“I know.” Gabby isn’t as sentimental as I am. She’s trying, but she can’t understand why it wasn’t so black-and-white for me. Rockwell and I grew up together, and a history like ours lingers. This is murky water I’m wading in. “I’m sure after a few more days of seeing him, I’ll get used to it and move on.” I hope that will be the case. I don’t think my heart can survive another break the size Rockwell is capable of creating.
“Well, whatever happens, I hope you find your peace.”
“Thanks.” I prefer the sappy side of kismet, where two people are meant to be together. I kind of hate the part of life where two people have to realize they aren’t compatible. I want a different ending than spending time with Rockwell so I can finally let go. I hate myself for wanting what I can’t have.
“I’m going to run and grab my phone and keys,” Gabby says, taking a step backward. “But invite Rockwell to the family party.”
“Gabby . . .”
“Jocelyn and I both agree he’s even better looking than high school Rock. You can’t pass this up.”
“I can too.” Taking him to the party was like taking our friendship to the next level. Nope, not going to happen.
She takes another step, almost bumping into the open door. “Remember how your family get-togethers are?”
I blow out a long breath. As the youngest of six kids, it’s either be the babysitter at the kid table, or join the massive date night and feel like a single loser.
“You know you want to ask him.” She points at me and nods before leaving me alone.
I angrily hum, “We wish you a Merry Christmas,” trying to remind myself how my friends mean well, my mom isn’t crazy, and I didn’t start a rumor about dating my high school ex-boyfriend again. Rockwell was patient last night at the restaurant, but he is going to be ticked when he hears about this. I wouldn’t be surprised if he cuts his trip here short. He clearly wants to lay low while in town. Now everyone knows he’s here and believes we’re a thing.
Life built a giant trap for me, and I’m the only blind person stupid enough to walk right into it.MerryKismet, my foot. I grab my stuff and pull on my coat. My footsteps to my car drag. What can I say? My enthusiasm for going home has waned. What if I accidentally run into Rockwell? Instead of driving home, I turn toward Warren’s Grocery store. The place will be packed until after the holidays, but I’m prepared to face the crowd if it means avoiding the consequences of my actions.
I remember hearing Mrs. Carlson and her daughter started an earring pop-up boutique in the corner of the store. My sister loves the mod clay earrings, and even though I already have a present for her, I rationalize that I should pick her up a pair. In fact, it’s now a priority. She needs the earrings. And if I happen to bring home ten pounds of therapy chocolate in the process, even better!
I pull into an open parking space, my mind reviewing how I’m a terrible person, and shut off my ignition. I reach for my handle only to realize who I parked next to. How did I miss the gorgeous Mercedes? And . . . no . . . no! Rockwell is in the driver’s seat. I don’t want him to see me. I’m not ready to tell him the whole town believes we’re dating. I see his head move my way, and I immediately sink down in my seat. I put my hand up to block my face.
It’s fine. Normal people sit in their cars like this all the time. A car door opens next to me, and I think Rockwell is getting out of his car. Great. He’ll go inside the store, and I can sneak away. I’m sad about the chocolate, but who cares about the earrings.
I’m just remembering my emergency chocolate stash in my cupboard when a shadow falls over my window. I immediately look up. It’s a good thing my job does not consist of stakeouts because I would be dead or fired by now. Of course, it’s Rockwell. Remember how fate turned on me? Yeah, this is further proof.
I duck again and squeeze my eyes, hoping I’ll open them and he’ll have taken the hint and walked away. A knock sounds on the window. I reluctantly straighten and open my door. He leans his head inside, much too close to my own.
“What’s up, Brie?”
“I’m hanging out in my car.” Because doesn’t everyone do that in the dead of winter?
“Really? Because it looks like you’re hiding from me. Nothing happened with Samson last night, did it?”
I fake a cheerful tone. “I’m not hiding from you. And Samson was a perfect angel last night. Melinda picked him up while I was at school, and according to her texts, it couldn’t have been a happier reunion.”
Rockwell nods, an easy smile over his mouth. Is he faking too? Or does he not know yet? “I’m happy to hear it. I feel bad for making you get up in the middle of the night. Are you picking up groceries too?”
“I’m heading home, actually.”
“Didn’t you just pull in?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m heading home after I grab one quick thing.”
