Chapter 25
Micah Barrett
We land in Las Vegas around three o’clock.
As we get off the plane, there’s a limousine waiting for us.
Cricket’s eyes about pop out of her head.
I just chuckle because it’s so Levi. A few days ago, Tobias pulled me aside and told me how much each of us will inherit.
I’m actually surprised Levi didn’t rent out half of Vegas for our trip.
By the time we get checked into our hotel rooms—River and I sharing a suite—it’s time to eat dinner. We decide to eat at a French restaurant across from the Bellagio. They seat us outside so we can see the fountain across the street.
They have those outdoor heaters that make you feel warm on one side while the December Vegas air chills the other.
Our whole family is scattered across several tables, the conversation a low and comfortable hum.
I’m sitting with Cricket and River, picking at my crème br?lée while watching the Bellagio fountains dance across the street.
I should be having fun, but all I can think about is how romantic this is and how Cricket is sitting there making eyes at another man.
River turns to me, setting down his water glass. “Micah, I love your music. Have you ever performed live?”
“No.” I take another bite of dessert, hoping he’ll change the subject. I don’t want to talk about my anxiety over performing in front of a crowd.
River nods, then his expression shifts slightly. “Have you read any of Cricket’s book yet?”
Cricket starts coughing, nearly choking on her water. I reach over and pound on her back.
“You okay?” I ask, still patting her back as she tries to catch her breath.
She waves me off, her face red. “Fine, just… went down the wrong way.”
River’s watching this exchange with an amused expression, like he finds Cricket’s reaction entertaining for some reason. “So, have you?”
“Have I what?” I’m still worried about Cricket, who’s now taking careful sips of water.
“Read her book?”
I nod my head. “I’ve read all that she’s written. It’s really good. I can’t wait to read more. The poor main character is completely oblivious to the fact that his best friend is in love with him.”
Cricket makes a small squeaking sound.
“You sure you’re okay?” I ask her again.
“Perfectly fine,” she says, though her voice comes out slightly strangled.
River grins. “I bet the guy figures it out eventually.”
“I hope so,” I say, stealing another glance at Cricket. “She deserves better than pining away for someone who can’t see what’s right in front of him.”
Cricket wipes at her face with her napkin.
An hour later, the family has split to go in several different directions.
River and Cricket and I are standing on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant, trying to decide what to do next.
The fountains have just finished another show, and tourists are wandering around with their cameras and shopping bags.
The streets are crowded, and it’s making me feel squirmy. I did as Cricket suggested and talked to my doctor to get some meds. I do feel like it’s helping a bit. It’s taking the edge off, although the doctor said I would still have to find some coping mechanisms.
I pull my jacket tighter around me. It’s the one Cricket borrowed, and it still smells like her. It’s making my insides flutter.
River points across the street. “We should go look at the Bellagio Conservatory. I heard they have an amazing Christmas display up right now.”
My stomach rolls. Christmas displays. Of course.
I force a smile because they’re both looking at me expectantly, and I don’t want to be the one to ruin the evening, even though Christmas displays make me think of my mother…
and the last thing I said to her before she died. I shake it off like I always do.
“Sure,” I say. “That sounds great.”
But Cricket is watching me closely, and I can tell she’s picked up on my hesitation. She always could read me too well. Her eyes soften with understanding, even though she doesn’t know the real reason I don’t like Christmas. I’ve never told her.
“The displays are supposed to be incredible this year,” River continues. “All these elaborate scenes with thousands of lights.”
“Sounds beautiful,” Cricket says, though she’s still watching me.
We start walking toward the Bellagio’s entrance. I’m doing my best to psych myself up for this. It’s just a Christmas display. It’s been eleven years since my parents died. It’s no big deal.
River pulls his phone out of his pocket and frowns at the screen.
“Oh no,” he says, stopping in his tracks. “This is my agent. I really need to take this.”
Cricket stares at him. “Your agent? Why would he be calling?”
He holds up a finger and answers the call. “Hi, Jerry… What? No, that can’t be right…” River turns to us, covering the phone with his hand. “I’m so sorry. This might take a while. You guys go ahead without me. I’ll catch up later.”
He walks away, disappearing into the crowd.
Cricket shrugs at me. “That’s weird.”
Honestly, I’m relieved. Dealing with Christmas decorations will be easier with just Cricket because she understands.
Cricket slips her hand into mine. “Are you sure you’re okay going to look at the Christmas display?”
I know Cricket loves this kind of stuff, so I take a deep breath. Just the two of us. Somehow, that makes it feel less overwhelming. “Sure.”
The Bellagio Conservatory takes my breath away. It’s absolutely stunning. The entire space has been transformed into a winter wonderland, with towering trees covered in thousands of white lights, elaborate floral arrangements in reds and golds, and delicate glass ornaments hanging from the ceiling.
Cricket gasps beside me. “Oh, Micah. This is incredible.”
She’s right. It’s like stepping into a fairy tale. Despite my complicated feelings about Christmas, I can’t help but be awed by the artistry. Families are wandering through, taking photos, kids pointing excitedly at the various displays.
“Look at that tree,” Cricket says, pulling me toward a massive evergreen covered in red and gold decorations. “It must be twenty feet tall.”
We walk slowly through the displays, Cricket pointing out details I might have missed—the way the lights reflect off the glass ceiling, the intricate beadwork on some of the ornaments, the subtle way the white flowers are arranged to look like snow drifts. She takes a million photos with her phone.
“Are you okay?” she asks quietly as we pass a nativity scene.
“Yeah,” I say, and I’m surprised to realize I mean it. “It’s beautiful.”
The crowds thin as we move deeper into the conservatory, and I notice a large structure up ahead.
“What’s that?” Cricket asks.
We step forward and find ourselves standing under an archway covered in white roses and holly, with a large sprig of mistletoe hanging directly above us. My heart starts racing, but it has nothing to do with Christmas anxiety this time.
Cricket looks up at the mistletoe then at me, her cheeks flushing pink. “Um, I think we’re standing under…”
Time slows for me as I gape up at the little sprig hanging above us. It would be so easy for me to press my lips to hers right now—to take her into my arms and pretend she’s mine. It’s socially acceptable. She’s actually looking at me as if she’s waiting for me to do it.
I already know it would be amazing. Maybe even better than last time because I want it so badly. My heart picks up speed as I stare into her bright blue eyes. I could so easily take advantage of this situation.
But I know I can’t.
A little voice inside me argues. It’s no big deal. It’s tradition. Everyone expects it. She wouldn’t think anything of it.
My lips tingle in anticipation. Just one kiss. That’s all.
I mentally shake my head. I can’t kiss Cricket. Not while she’s so enamored with River. It wouldn’t be right. No matter how great it would feel, it wouldn’t be real.
“Yeah,” I say. “We’d better move on.”
It’s hard for me to read Cricket’s expression. It almost seems like she’s a little disappointed, but that can’t be right.
I stare at her. She smiles and nods, the disappointed look vanishing. “Yep,” she laughs. “We can’t get caught under that.” She shoves me out from under the archway.
I keep walking with her through the rest of the display, but I can’t think about anything else now. That kiss we shared was everything, and I feel so stupid for not seeing it before. How completely, utterly blind I’ve been to what was right in front of me this whole time.
Cricket. My best friend, Cricket, who knows my favorite soda is Cherry Coke and remembers that Christmas is hard for me. Cricket, who laughs at all my jokes, reads every song I write, and makes me feel like I’m the most interesting person in the world when she looks at me.
Cricket, who I let slip away from me because I was too much of an idiot to see that I was already in love with her.