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Any attempt he’s making to lighten my mood doesn’t happen because my sister, Barb, storms the entryway with her baby on her hip and her short brunette bob bouncing. “It’s about time—” Barb’s words fall short at the sight of Rockwell. His arms are still on my shoulders and my hands on his arms, and I can see in her eyes exactly what this looks like. Barb is four years older than me, but she knows all about our history. At least it was her who found us like this.
“Uh, hi,” she says. “I didn’t know you were bringing your ex-boyfriend. Or is the ex missing now?”
So much for safe. “Just a friend,” I correct as we both drop our arms and inch away from each other.
She raises her brow. “No one is going to believe it. Especially with the couple sweaters you’re wearing.”
I glance down to the open gap in our un-zippered jackets. Dang, she’s right. Why didn’t I think of that?
“Shoot,” she says, her eyes widening. “Those are your Christmas sweaters, aren’t they? Didn’t you get the memo? We canceled the sweater contest this year.”
“What? No one said anything to me.” Who would end a ten-year tradition?
“We decided to put the money we were spending on ugly sweaters to charity. It was Bianca’s idea, so don’t hate me.”
My mouth drops, but I force it closed again. “How can I hate that you’re donating to charity?” I give Rockwell an apologetic glance. I would never have made him wear the very unmanly duck sweater otherwise. At least it was soft and screamed huggable. Not that I noticed.
Barb waves us in. “Come on, no reason hiding out here. You’ll be outed soon enough.”
Rockwell sends me an uneasy look.
“She’s joking.”
“And you’re not nervous at all.” He chuckles and sets his hand on my back. “Don’t worry about me. I can handle myself.”
But who was going to worry about me? Could I handle everyone thinking I was dating Rockwell when I was, in actuality, not? The idea of having a date to my family Christmas party sounded so romantic in my head, but the Hollands were going to turn this into more com than rom. I collect our jackets and add them to the overcrowded hooks on the wall.
I dutifully follow Rockwell’s lead, and the two of us weave around the hall into a packed family room. My dad meets us first, slapping Rockwell on the back and squeezing his shoulder as only guys do.
“Good to see you, Rock! I heard you were back in town. I’m not surprised you found Brie so quickly. You two were always inseparable in high school. Glad you came tonight.”
“Thanks for having me.” Rockwell seems to beam under my dad’s attention. I’ve heard his own dad hasn’t really been involved in his life much since the divorce. I’m happy my dad is sharing his affectionate side at the moment and being so welcoming. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so scared.
“Boys, you have another player for your game,” Dad announces.
My brothers look up from their Mario Kart pregame setup—a fierce tradition in our family almost as old as me—and several pairs of mischievous eyes look our way. Did they ever grow up? At least my two brothers-in-law are tame with their curious and disinterested looks.
“Rockwell Davenport. Nice to see you back.” Brad, the brother older than me, saunters over. I can’t tell if he has friendly intentions or not.
“Brad.” Rockwell’s voice is perfectly schooled.
Brad’s shorter than Rockwell, but the size doesn’t dim Brad’s confidence. “Are you here to stay this time? Nice sweater, by the way. The duck is cute.”
Without thinking, I tuck my arm around Rockwell’s. “He’s only here for the holidays, so be nice.”
“I’m always nice.” Brad grins at me to prove it, but it drops as he turns back to Rockwell. “I hope you’re man enough for Mario Kart, Rock. If you’re going to stay, you have to play.”
It sounds more like a threat than an invite and more like he’s talking about our dating life than any game.
“Don’t listen to him.” I barely get the words out before Rockwell speaks.
“You know me, Brad. I can’t say no to a challenge. I’ll play and I’ll win.”
I look up and Rockwell’s grinning. What’s happening? He doesn’t grin at me like that.
Brad slugs his arm. “Nice to know some things never change.” I don’t know how Rockwell passed the bro code, but apparently dishing it back to Brad was the way to his heart. “Brothers,” Brad said turning to face his family on the couch, “this one is on my team.”
Yep, I will never understand.
