And maybe her pride.
Refusing to be embarrassed, she grabbed her coat and pulled it on, balling up her bra the best she could and shoving it into a pocket. She kicked at the top blanket.
“Guess we should probably clean these for her, huh?” She peeked at him out of the corner of her eye.
He let out an uncomfortable little hum of a laugh. “Yeah. Would kind of be a dick move to just put them back.”
“Um, yeah. More of a dick move than borrowing them in the first place to have sex on them.”
God, had she really said that out loud?
Yup, she sure had.
But he just chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “We borrowed them to sleep on-slash-under when we got stuck here, because she insisted on keeping the store open in a blizzard. Our intentions were pure.”
“Maybe yours were,” she mumbled under her breath. If he heard her, he didn’t respond.
Restless and agitated and ready to get gone, she turned away and gathered up the blankets under her arm. There was a machine in the basement of her building, and she was pretty sure she had a few extra quarters she could spare.
After that, there wasn’t really much reason to linger. Grabbing her purse and shoving her keys in her pocket with her bra, she headed to the front of the store where he was waiting. Before she’d turned the corner of the aisle, though, she looked back over her shoulder.
All that was left of their night together was a patch of bare carpet in the middle of a cramped bookstore. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just a couple of shelves she wandered past every time she came in. A couple of shelves she’d never look at quite the same again.
She’d spilled so many secrets here. Had let him into her body and into her past. She’d asked him to tell her his story, too. Then by the cold light of dawn, she’d shut down on him and pushed him away. She’d screwed it up, same as she always did, and she wanted to fix it. She just didn’t know how.
Treacherous tears threatened her eyes, but she blinked them back. What was with her this time of year? Maybe that was the problem. The holidays always screwed with her head. If she could manage to get through today and tomorrow, she’d be able to think clearly again. Maybe she could salvage something from this mess she’d made by letting him in too fast and then shoving him away.
Shaking her head at herself, she twisted around to face forward again. As she approached, Sam pushed the door open for her, and she strode through it with her jaw and hands clenched tight, as if that would be enough for her to keep herself together.
Outside, the world had been transformed, and she squinted hard against the glare. A good two feet of snow had fallen, but other than that, you would hardly know there had been a blizzard the night before. The skies were bright and clear, the sun dazzling as it reflected off of all the pristine white. Lifting her hand to shield her eyes, she surveyed the space in front of them. She’d been worried about being snowed in for days or even a week, but a plow had clearly been through to at least make a first pass at the road the shop was on, and the parking lot had even seen some attention.
Amazing, how quickly people could recover, even from something that seemed so monumental at the time.
At the edge of the lot, two lonely cars sat, both brushed off, the high drifts of snow around them cleared enough for them to at least be able to back out. She stared at hers wistfully. What she wouldn’t give to be able to just get in and go—and avoid what was threatening to be the most awkward ride home ever.
Resigned, she headed toward Sam’s car. It was of a similar vintage to hers, but looked to be in a lot better shape, if the amount of visible rust was anything to go by. The doors were unlocked, so she let herself in, shoving the wad of blankets into the seat behind her. They landed on top of what looked to be an impressive collection of fast-food wrappers and sports equipment.
“Sorry for the mess,” he said as he settled into the driver’s side.
She shrugged. She wasn’t any stranger to twentysomething boys’ cars. At least there wasn’t anything crawling around in there that she could see. She fastened her seat belt and stared straight ahead as he fired the engine up and put the car into gear.
“So where do you live, anyway?”
“Over near the university.” She paused a second, waiting for him to roll his eyes and say of course. For him to call her college girl. When he didn’t, her heart sank a little further. She really had screwed everything up. Throat tight, she specified, “Two exits north,” pointing toward the now-reopened highway.
He nodded and eased out of the space. Out on the road, he crept along, signaling every turn and changing lanes at a snail’s pace. Not that he didn’t have good reason. Traffic was reasonably light, the road relatively clear, but there were icy patches here and there, and the snow had blown back out onto the asphalt along the edges of the road in places.
There was something else going on with him, though—something more than defensive, weather-appropriate driving. He usually had such an easy way about him, even at work, and when she’d imagined him on his downtime, she’d figured he’d be even more carefree. But his arms were locked, his grip tight on the steering wheel, and while she caught him sneaking glances at her from time to time in his periphery, he didn’t try to talk. Not at all.
So she kept mum, too, turning and gazing out the passenger-side window so she didn’t even have to look at him, for fear she’d lose it and start letting all the crazy spill out again. She could apologize for being so weird, but what would it change? She’d still be the same awkward girl she’d been before she’d opened her heart and her legs.
When they got to her exit, she broke her silence only to give him clipped instructions for which way to turn and where to go. After what felt like about fifty years, they finally arrived in front of her shitty-ass apartment complex. Normally, she might have been embarrassed for him to see what a crappy neighborhood she lived in, but what was a little bit more mortification on top of everything else at this point?
Unsurprisingly, the lot near her building hadn’t been plowed, so she directed him to just pull up near the curb and let her out. Instead of sitting there and idling while she got herself together, he turned the engine off, which was a surprise. But after a beat or two of silence, he still didn’t seem any closer to actually saying anything. With a sigh, she undid her seat belt. Then reached into the backseat to grab the blankets so she could get them in the wash while she sat in her apartment. Alone. On Christmas fucking Eve. Again.
His hand on hers was a shock. He gripped her wrist, and she wasn’t sure when he’d taken off his gloves, but his skin was warm, his thumb rough where it rested against her pulse. She jerked her gaze over to look at him.
His throat bobbed. “I can take care of them.”
Oh. Was that all? “I can do it.”
He squeezed her wrist more tightly. “Let me?”
Well, she wasn’t exactly going to fight him over it. “Fine.”
She was saved from the awkward question of whether or not to try to extricate her hand when he released it. Disappointment made her stomach twist. Pulling her arm in close to her chest, she moved for the handle of the door to let herself out.
“Got any plans for today?”
And that just…pissed her off. She’d told him the whole pathetic story of her family yesterday. She’d told him how she felt about Christmas.
She snorted and tamped down the bitterness that was ready to choke her. “Do Netflix and takeout count as plans?”
“Better than what I was thinking,” he said, and there was that hollow note to his voice again.
Hollow enough that she almost felt sorry for him, but then she remembered he had a place to go today. No matter how fucked up his family situation was right now, he had people who loved him, and in spite of all his mistakes, they’d take him back. In a heartbeat.
And he didn’t realize it.
With that thought, the fire went out of her. He looked sad, and she felt sad, and well…t
hat was kind of redundant, wasn’t it?
Ugh.
Keeping her hand on the door, prepared to make her escape as soon as she’d said what she needed to, she turned to him. The nape of her neck felt icy-hot, and her heart was thudding against her rib cage with the force of her nerves. She’d kept her silence on this last night, because it hadn’t been any of her business. It still wasn’t any of her business. She just didn’t feel so bad any more about intruding.
“Listen. Sam.”
“Yeah—”
She shook her head to interrupt him, because the earnestness in his voice made her want to throw up at how unfair this all was. She didn’t know what he was going to say, but considering how her luck had run so far this morning, she’d put dimes to dollars it wasn’t anything good.
“Your family.” Something in her throat wobbled, and it was hard to look at him. Hard to see the way his jaw snapped shut and his eyes widened. She pushed through it anyway, forcing the words out one after another. “They fucked up. They tried to make you something you aren’t, but you think because you disappointed your dad in this one aspect of your life that you—that you have to be alone. But you don’t. Everything you said about them. They’re dying for you to come back. I bet they miss you so much.”
She had to pause to catch her breath.
“Holly,” he said, and she lifted a finger to silence him.
And then she said the thing that sliced her to the core. “There is nothing I wouldn’t give up to have a family that loved me. One that I could go home to.”
As awful as her parents had been, she’d considered it a dozen times. Thought about going to them and asking for forgiveness.
Thought about trying to forgive all the ways they’d hurt her.
She’d nearly managed it, too—the forgiveness part. The thing was, she might be a fool for love and for acceptance. But she wasn’t going to beg for it from people who denied it to her again and again and again.
“I can’t go back,” she managed after a long moment. “But you can. And you want to. I can see it in your eyes.” Those warm blue circles that were just screaming the magnitude of his hope. “So you should. I hope you do.”
And fuck it. All morning she’d been keeping her distance, and for what? Some vague idea that she could protect herself? The cow was out in the pasture, and it didn’t matter how hard she slammed those barn doors closed. Maybe he was having second thoughts, too, but he’d made enough overtures, at least back at the store. What, precisely, did she have to lose? So many things. Her stomach gave a nervous little twist. Putting herself out there had never worked out well for her before. But with Sam, last night, it had been easy. And hadn’t she just been the one telling him to take a chance?
Without letting herself overthink it, she darted across the space between their seats to press one hard, close-mouthed kiss against his lips.
“I hope you have a really great Christmas,” she said with all the air she had left.
She managed one quick glance up to meet wide blue eyes, and just like that, her courage deserted her.
Wrenching the door open, she launched herself through it, purse clutched in her hand, and her heart in her throat. Her numb legs couldn’t take her across the snowy walk fast enough, and her lungs and face both burned against the chilly air.
“Holly!”
The first sound of her name she could write off as a hallucination—a trick of her imagination, or a whisper in the wind, barely audible over the roaring in her ears.
“Holly!”
The second was harder to ignore.
Still, she didn’t stop until she heard him call for her a third and final time. Until the crunching of the snow beneath his pounding feet drew too close, and his hand landed on her shoulder.
Because he’d come after her.
“Sam…”
“Nope,” he said, cutting her off. Turning her around and ducking to bridge the gap between their heights. He put himself right in her line of vision and held a finger up, just the way she had in the car. “My turn.”
She blinked, barely getting out an uncertain “Um…” before he shook his head, silencing her again.
Only once a beat or two had passed without her trying to interrupt did he take a big breath in. And when he let it out, it was to say, “You’re right.”
That wasn’t what she’d been expecting. She furrowed her brows. “I am?”
Something in his expression melted. A tiny fragment of her heart followed right after, because she remembered this expression. It was the one that had given her cause to hope in the first place. And here it was, directed right at her, as heart-stoppingly beautiful as ever.
“Of course you are,” he said. “Aren’t you always?” He was still holding on to her shoulder, and even through the bulk of her coat, she could feel his thumb digging in, stroking hard against the start of her collarbone. “It’s Christmas Eve, and my sister is going to be opening presents this afternoon. And my mom’ll be cooking a turkey, and Dad will be trying to get people to play these awful board games with him. And I want to be there. I want to be there so bad.”
Her whole chest squeezed with longing, but she kept her mouth from frowning, because this wasn’t about her. “You should go.”
“I know. Only…”
A long second passed. She echoed, “Only…?”
His smile was achingly soft. “Only there’ll be way too much turkey, and CeeCee’s too young to understand the kinds of games my dad likes. And I…and I don’t know if I can face them.”
She was just about to protest.
But then he grabbed both of her arms and held on tight. “I don’t want to face them. Not alone.”
Her breath caught in her lungs. “Are you saying…?”
“They’re gonna love you, Holly.” The corner of his mouth wavered. “They’ll love your wit, and your smarts, and how, no matter how hurt you get, you still have this ability to be open. To give so much of yourself.”
“I don’t, though.” She shook her head, but she didn’t pull away. Her voice dipped as she admitted, “Not with anyone else.”
“They’re going to love you,” he repeated, full of a conviction she didn’t know if she could ever feel. And then he tilted his head to the side, and something in his smile fell wide open. “Just like I do.”
It felt as if the world ground to a halt, their words and breath as frozen as the air and as bright as the snow.
And it was too soon. Much, much too soon. He knew it, too—clearly—considering the way his smile dimmed. The way he took a half step back.
Only, she wouldn’t let him, grabbing on to his hands before he could really let go.
All morning, she’d been distracted and distant and defensive. She’d pushed him away, and he’d allowed it. But really, he’d been sitting on this.
The magnitude of it floored her. This man had seen her at her worst. At her most vulnerable. He’d seen her being her own dorky self for months, now, and apparently it hadn’t scared him away one bit.
This locked-off piece of her heart creaked open. She liked him. Adored him and trusted him, and maybe all of that was love.
Her throat felt gritty as she thought about saying it, though. So instead, she turned his palms over, stroking her thumbs across the lines inscribed there in his skin. Looking up at him through her lashes, she asked, “Can I run upstairs and take a shower first?”
He cocked his head to the side, confusion written on his brow. “Can—?”
“Before we head over to your parents’ place,” she clarified. Because she’d read his invitation correctly, hadn’t she?
Yeah. If the brilliance of his smile was anything to go by, she had. “Depends. Do you need help washing your back?”
“I might.” Her entire chest swelled with relief. This was normal. This was them. Only with sex on the table now, too. Only one little, final tangle of anxiety lingered, and she coaxed it apart as she said, “You’d have to do a really thorough job, though. I n
eed to make a good impression.” Her throat tightened, but she got the words out anyway. “Not every day you meet the boyfriend’s parents, after all.”
“No,” he said. “It isn’t.”
With that, the knot of uncertainty dissolved in the wake of his warm smile. He took a step forward, and she met him, tilting her head up.
There, in the bright light of day, surrounded by a world made pristine and sparkling with ice and snow, she melted into his kiss.
She had never, ever felt so warm.
Epilogue
One year later…
“Don’t you just love a white Christmas?” Rebecca sighed as she leaned against the counter of the shop.
Looking up from her book, Holly followed her gaze, past the display of New Agey crap, toward the window overlooking the parking lot. Sure enough, a soft, gentle snow was falling outside, dusting the cars and the asphalt and the grass.
“Is it supposed to stick?”
Rebecca shrugged. “Maybe an inch? Nothing like that crazy blizzard from last year.”
Holly managed—barely—not to choke. “Thank goodness for that.”
She sometimes wondered if Margie and Rebecca had their suspicions about what had gone down in this very store that night. If they did, they’d had the good graces to never mention it.
Though Margie had looked at the freshly laundered blankets they’d returned to her office the day after Christmas as if they’d been used for…well. Exactly what they had.
Holly was smirking to herself just thinking about it when a warm presence stepped into place behind her. Sam’s hand brushed the small of her back, lingering for a bare moment before retreating. She couldn’t help leaning into him at least a little bit. They might be trying to keep things subtle at work, but it was their anniversary, goddammit, and between his final exams and hers, she’d barely had a chance to see him all week.
She tilted her head to sneak a peek at him. It was ridiculous, but her heart still pounded sometimes when she looked at him. He was as gorgeous as he’d been the day they’d met—maybe more so. After all, he was hers now.
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