Chapter 12
twelve
Reese
I don’t know that I’ve ever slept without a blanket on—definitely not on purpose, and definitely not without waking to pull it over me in the middle of the night—but one of the first things I realize when I stir in the morning is that my legs are uncovered.
I blink my eyes open, then go still.
Cole’s face is two inches from mine, his dark lashes resting against the top of his cheeks.
I slowly lower my gaze and note his arm draped lazily across my side. Mine mirrors it on his side. The blanket is in a rumpled heap at the bottom of the bed, just below our tangle of legs.
Memories of last night flood my psyche. I wanted Cole to open up to me so badly on the deck.
But he wasn’t ready.
Or so I thought.
My heart twinges, and I study his sleeping face, thinking of the little boy who woke up one day without a mom.
It’s all I can do not to wrap my arms around him and kiss every accessible part of his face.
Being with him at the cabin has proven he’s fun and charming. A heartbreaker, even.
Last night was the first time I realized he’s also heartbroken.
If I thought I was falling for him before, it’s nothing compared to what I feel now.
Fake might’ve been the starting mark, but I’ve been driving on Real Road for miles now, and after that kiss yesterday, I’m pretty sure Cole’s in the car with me.
He stirs, and my heart flaps and flutters like a fledgling sparrow. What will he think when he realizes where he is and who he’s with?
Today marks a milestone in our strange journey together. We’ve officially passed the two-date mark. Even the loosest interpretation of his policy wouldn’t allow for more than two days and nights together.
His lashes bat softly, then slowly reveal his blue eyes as I watch with bated breath.
His gaze fixes on me, and his lips spread into a smile that makes my insides feel like noodles covered in a delicious sauce of relief.
“Morning, Reese’s Pieces,” he says, his voice gravelly from sleep.
I really dislike the candy, but man…that nickname on his lips just might change my mind.
“Morning.”
He looks down at our arms around each other, and a brow cocks. “My protective candy shell was no match for you. Is my virtue still intact?”
“What virtue?”
He smiles again, then pulls me toward him until my head is tucked into the hollow beneath his neck.
The feeling is bliss, like every part of me has a place with Cole.
There’s a muffled clanging sound from downstairs. The kitchen, from the sound of it.
“I should go help,” I say, but leaving this place sounds like torture.
“I should shower,” Cole responds. “And brush my teeth.”
“Agreed.”
My quip leads to a brutal round of tickle torture that ends with me falling out of the bed.
Cole joins me on the floor, and I laugh breathlessly and realize I’m waiting.
Waiting for him to kiss me again.
He doesn’t, though. Probably because he wants to brush his teeth first.
I hope.
He disappears into the bathroom, and I head to help with breakfast, feeling like I’m walking on clouds.
Megan is the only one in the kitchen, and I falter at the sight of her, remembering that part of my conversation with Cole last night.
She looks up and smiles as she stirs something in a big bowl. “Hey.”
I continue toward her. “Hey! You on breakfast duty alone today?”
“Brady’s outside cooking on the grill.”
I peer at him through the window and clench my teeth. “It’s freezing.”
“I know,” she says. “He insists grill bacon is way better than stove or oven bacon.”
I grab the knife next to the fruit. “Brady’s particular about his bacon.” It’s only after I’ve said it that I realize what a poorly chosen comment it is.
Megan’s eyes flick to me, then immediately away. “Yeah, he is.”
“How do you want these bananas done?” I ask, thanking the heavens for an excuse to change the subject.
“Oh, just cut up to go on the pancakes.”
“Perfect.” I start peeling the first banana as Megan pours batter onto the grill in silence.
“I still feel weird about things,” Megan says after a minute.
I look up, my muscles tighten. This is my chance. She’s giving me the opportunity to tell her how I really feel about Brady and her dating.
Cole would tell me to take the chance. But what’s happening between Megan and me? It doesn’t just affect the friendship between the two of us. It affects our whole group.
The four of us have been friends for years. If there’s a falling out between Megan and me, what’ll that mean for future Christmases? Will Hannah and Tess feel like they have to choose between us?
What if they choose her? Her and Brady.
That would crush me.
“You don’t have to feel weird, Meg,” I say. “Seriously.”
“Really?” She looks at me like I’m offering her a relief that feels too good to be true. Probably because it is.
I smile, but regret settles into the pit of my stomach. “Really.”
She lets out a big gush of air. “I’m so glad to hear you say that. And I promise to stop bringing it up. I just…wanted to be sure.”
“I get it,” I say, watching my opportunity for honesty flutter away like a butterfly.
“And, Reese”—she puts down the pancake flipper and turns toward me—“I know I said it before, but I am so over the moon for you. You and Cole are perfect together and just—adorable.”
My smile turns real. Giddy, even.
She grabs the flipper again and turns one of the pancakes. “I saw you two in the snow yesterday after the hot tub. Ridiculously cute. And that kiss?” She cocks a brow at me.
I get butterflies at the mention, my cheeks warming up like they’re on the griddle.
“It was like watching a romcom movie play out in real life,” Megan says. “Cole caught me watching through the window, and I felt so embarrassed! But then he winked at me, which made me feel a little less like a creeper. It was just too cute not to watch.”
My stomach clenches.
I had no idea anyone was watching—or that Cole knew anyone was watching.
Did he know the whole time?
Megan says it was like watching a romcom movie. It felt like one too. But what if Cole was still acting?
I can still feel the ice on my skin and the heat of his lips on mine, only now, the blissful scene in my mind includes a moment where his eyes flick past me to the window.
The image of the scene cracks around the edges like the thin surface of a pond someone’s dared to step on.
Megan’s still talking, but I’m barely hearing her, my brain on overdrive sorting through every moment Cole and I have shared since that kiss.
Did I interpret it all wrong? Or am I just spiraling again?