AllFreeNovel
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Brie and I could still be friends.
Even as I think it, I know it isn’t possible. Not just because of the chemistry sizzling between us, but because of our history. My heart knows what it likes. It’s not easy negotiating with an organ.
Thinking of her sleepy smile sends me out into the night with a wistful last glance. I can’t help it. If I had a Christmas list, Brie would be at the top. But the Davenports don’t do the happy ending thing well. No matter what, I won’t break Brie’s heart this time.
Chapter 17
Brie
I’musedtoneverseeing Rockwell, so I don’t know why I keep waiting for him to knock on my door, or at the very least, text my phone. His car was missing out front, so I assume he’s driving his mom to her appointments or is working with Travis. Which means it’s the perfect day to clean out my closet.
I throw the closet doors open and smile stupidly when I see my ugly frog sweater. I stroke it like Rockwell did with his thumb to the back of my hand last night. I stare at nothing for a good five minutes, reliving every moment in my head. I normally get excited about organizing a space, but I’m too distracted. It was a hand hold, not a proposal.
I’m losing my mind. After heaping a pile of clothes that haven’t seen the light of day in a while on my bed, I justify switching tasks to picking out my outfit for the dance. I want to wear something pretty that doesn’t look like I’m desperate for Rockwell to keep his eyes on me but will subtly accomplish the task anyway. I end up trying on a dozen combinations before falling on my donation pile and groaning.
Jocelyn and Gabby find me this way a moment later.
“What happened here?” Gabby wrinkles her nose.
“I’m cleaning out my closet.”
Jocelyn comes over and picks up a skirt I discarded in my changing spree. “I’ll claim this one.”
“That one stays.” I sit up and take back my skirt.
“Wait.” Jocelyn frowns. “Are you wearing three sweaters?”
I shrug, realizing my layering method to save time had not been overly effective. “It’s cold. In here. And outside.” I hug myself to demonstrate how cold I am, but they aren’t buying it.
Jocelyn raises her pencil-perfect brows and gives Gabby a knowing look. “I believe our friend here has been searching for the perfect outfit to impress our new neighbor.”
Gabby pushes the mound of clothes aside so she can sit on my bed too. “No way would Rockwell agree to go to the Holly Hoedown. He’s not a small-town hick anymore. Our entertainment is beneath him.”
A glimmer of regret taints some of my excitement. Rockwell has been to the hoedown before, but he was probably humoring me at the time. Is he dreading going?
“We aren’t hicks,” Jocelyn clarifies.
“So why are we going again?” Gabby asks.
“Because it’s tradition.” I grab my nice skirt and slip it on a hanger. “And Rockwell doesn’t put on airs because he lives in LA now. He didn’t even blink when he agreed to come tonight.” I’m telling them as much as I am myself.
Jocelyn squeals. “I knew it! You were awfully cozy on the couch last night.”
Gabby nods. “If he is coming, it’s because of you and not because of the hoedown.”
This is a good time to peel a sweater or two off to avoid answering.
“What’s going on between you two?” Gabby pries again after my second sweater is gone. She leans back on her elbows, waiting. “And don’t tell me this is about finding closure anymore. I won’t believe it.”
“I don’t know.” I’m not lying, but I also know it’s not enough of an answer to satisfy my friends. They want the nitty gritty details, and I might as well save time and tell them. “Fine. I’m about to get my third Christmas wish granted in a week and half. It’s totally normal, and I’m not freaking out.” They both give me a look like I’m crazy. I rephrase my words into an explanation they’ll understand. “You both know I love to dance. Rockwell’s agreeing to come with me means a lot.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet.” Jocelyn smiles at me.
Gabby smiles too. “You’re such a sap, and I love it, but be careful.”
I nod. “So, are you going to help me pick out something to wear, or am I going to have to wade through this tornado by myself?”
Jocelyn shakes her head. “You can’t wear anything you own. I have the perfect dress for you.”
