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Istareatmygreen Merry Kismet notebook at my number two wish, which is a date for the Holland family Christmas party. Maybe I shouldn’t have cursed fate. Maybe this fighting for my happily ever after was a legit concept. I literally had to wrestle to get this particular wish fulfilled. It’s been a few days since our awkward yet amazing night, and no matter how many times I slap my cheeks, I keep smiling.
What would happen if I intentionally tried to keep checking off the rest of these boxes? Could I do that? Could I chase after a dream? The thought gives me anxiety. There’s too much at stake—like the state of my heart. I drop my notebook on my bedside table and pick up the sweater I found for Rockwell to wear to the party. Speaking of my insecurities, I’m nervous to give it to him. Instead of leaving to collect Rockwell for the party, I seek out Jocelyn.
I find her laying on her Barbie-pink bedspread reading a book. I clear my throat, and she looks up. “Do I pass?”
Jocelyn sets her book down and comes over to me. She studies me carefully with her professional eye before finger-combing my loose curls. “I approve.”
I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Thanks.”
“Have enough fun for all of us,” she says. “It’s about time one of us was dating someone.”
“You mean, hanging out.”
She laughs. “Keep telling yourself that.”
I will. I definitely will. Before I lose my courage, I slip on my jacket and boots. I yell goodbye and head next door.
After a single knock, the door swings open. Freshly shaved and smelling heavenly, Rockwell pulls the door open wider for me. “Hey, want to come in? I need to grab my keys and we can go.”
I step inside and let him close it behind me. “I hope you don’t mind changing.”
“Is this too casual? You know my family doesn’t really do this kind of thing anymore.” His black, long sleeve polo fits snug and looks a-maze-ing, but it won’t pass the family test.
The slight vulnerability he's showing me feels like a growing crack in the impenetrable armor he’s been wearing around his emotions. I want to reassure him, because who is more qualified to comfort a nervous person than another nervous person, but unfortunately, I need him to change.
“Actually . . . I brought you a Christmas sweater to wear.” I hold it up for him to see.
He eyes the sweater and chews and purses his lips. “Does this even count as a Christmas sweater?”
I look at it. It’s fairly normal except for the random fuzzy duck on the front and the pastel stripes on the sleeves. The design had to be originally for a toddler, but some eager parent must’ve thought it a good idea to make a matching adult one. It only has one review, and it’s from a lady who remade it into a sweater for her dog. “Trust me when I say this qualifies for our party. We don’t keep our ugly sweaters to Christmas themes. The more unique the more likely to win the contest.”
Rockwell squints at it. “Does a duck count as unique?”
“I didn’t have a lot of options on this short notice.”
“Fair. What does yours look like?”
I unzip my jacket and show him my frog sweater. It’s the same as his duck one but with a frog.
“Cute.”
He’s looking at my face, not my sweater. I give an embarrassed chuckle and toss the sweater to him. “Don’t ruin your hair.”
“You like my hair, do you?” He gives me a flirtatious wink and strolls back to his room.
My heart skips enough beats, and I feel a little lightheaded. Goodbye grumpy Rockwell, and hello swoon! Too bad the Hollands are going to reverse the mood faster than a person can name all the reindeer. Bringing him wasn’t my wisest idea. But if I am supposed to get over Rockwell, my family will likely help me accomplish this better than anyone.
Once we’re in the car—his car—I did offer to drive, I promise—I have to push at the crack in his armor he showed me earlier before we get on the road. I can’t help myself. I want so badly to respect his privacy, but I also long for the friendship we used to have. “Is this going to be too weird for you tonight?”
“Probably.”
I wince.
He looks over and gives me a forced smile. “Nah, I mean, I’m not used to doing big family things, but you know I always pay my dues.”
“I’ve never beaten you before, so I wouldn’t know.”
He smirks. “Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t.”
