Chapter 2
NATALIE
T he phone buzzed in my hand, vibrating and scaring the living shit out of me since I’d obviously been in a half-asleep, half-scrolling daze because it was eight-fucking-o-clock in the morning.
My sister was calling—a rare thing as of late—which meant that whatever she had to say was going to be important or something I wasn’t ready to hear.
“Hey, Paige. What’s up?” I asked, doing my best to sound like I’d been awake for hours because my sister was one of those people who woke up at the crack of dawn to work out…like a psychopath.
“Nat!” she screeched, and I winced. “I have the best news!”
“You won the lottery?”
She paused. “No.”
“You got someone to pay for that boob job you’ve been wanting?”
“Also no,” she said, beginning to sound annoyed.
“Well, then I can’t think of anything you would have to tell me that would be exciting.”
“I’m getting married!” Her shrieking was so loud that it took me a second to comprehend what she was saying.
Then it clicked .
“What do you mean you’re getting married?” I asked, faintly aware of the fact that my voice was coming out equally screechy.
But in my defense, I hadn’t even known that my sister was dating anyone seriously, so forgive me if my voice had lost its usual, very pleasant tenor.
“Levi asked me to marry him, and I said yes!” she squealed.
“Well, yes. That’s generally how these things work,” I said, still sounding frantic. “But who the fuck is Levi?”
“You know who Levi is…He’s Levi.”
I blinked at the phone, trying to recall who Levi could possibly be.
Until it hit me.
Levi Martin.
My high school boyfriend’s best friend.
My insides clenched like I’d just swallowed an entire lemon.
“You’re marrying Levi ?” I blurted, a little too loud and a little too horrified-sounding.
“Yes!” Her voice sparkled through the phone like she was announcing she’d just won a cruise. “Isn’t that crazy?”
“ Crazy is one word,” I said, clutching my phone like it might stabilize my nervous system. “We’re talking about Levi ‘lit a microwave on fire trying to make a grilled cheese’ Martin, right?”
She giggled like I was exaggerating. I wasn’t.
“That was forever ago. He’s matured. He does CrossFit now.”
“Oh, well. Obviously that’s the same as therapy,” I deadpanned. “Tell me you didn’t say yes to a man who once thought wearing a backwards snapback made him deep.”
“He’s not like that anymore! He’s thoughtful and focused now.”
“Thoughtful? Paige, he once ate seventeen mozzarella sticks at our house and then threw up in our dryer.”
“That was also forever ago,” she said, unfazed. “People grow up. You of all people should know that. ”
I paused, trying to reconcile the image of Levi Martin doing deadlifts and saying things like, emotional accountability .
I went on Facebook and started frantically scrolling through Levi’s pictures, past the few of him and my sister, desperately searching to see whether he had any recent pictures with him . My heart was thumping like I’d just been caught cheating on a pop quiz by a nun with a ruler.
“So, when’s the big day?” I asked belatedly, feeling marginally better after I’d scrolled back at least a year and found zero evidence of Easton and Levi still being in each other’s lives.
No recent selfies. No bro-hugs. No golf outings or barbecue reunions.
Easton was firmly ensconced in Hollywood and, more importantly, firmly away from me.
Ensconced . That was a big word. I gave myself a mental high five. It was good to reward yourself for literacy.
“Christmas Eve!”
“Christmas Eve?” My voice jumped an octave. “As in this Christmas Eve? Paige, that’s two fucking weeks away!”
“I know; isn’t it romantic? Snow, Christmas lights, everyone together for the holidays…”
Her words blurred into a festive, tinsel-covered buzz saw as my brain conjured the nightmare that awaited me.
“You mean everyone forced together for the holidays,” I grumbled.
I could already picture it: an entire weekend filled with Christmas activities, endless happy couples, and the looming possibility of running into him .
Easton’s face popped into my head uninvited—his dark hair, those piercing green eyes, the lopsided grin that used to make me feel like the center of the universe. My stomach twisted again.
From the pictures of him I’d seen online…he’d only gotten hotter. Leaner. Sharper. Like someone had taken the gorgeous boy I’d fallen in love with and added about seven layers of smolder .
“Natalie?” Paige’s voice yanked me out of my spiral. “You still there?”
“Yeah, sorry.” I scrambled for an excuse. “Look, I’m really happy for you, sis, but it’s so last minute. Finals, work, you know how it is?—”
“You’re coming,” she interrupted firmly. Her voice was tinged with amusement, like she’d been waiting for me to try that exact excuse.
“Paige, really, I?—”
“I know what this is about,” she said pointedly.
“It’s not about anything?—”
“We don’t even know if he’s coming.”
“Who’s he ?” I asked, wincing because that weird squeak was back.
There was silence on the other end of the line. A weighted one. Like Paige was holding back an eye roll.
“Natalie,” Paige said softly, “it’s hilarious that you would even pretend you’re not coming. You know you’re my maid of honor.”
I got all weepy at that, which was rude of her. I didn’t ask to have emotions.
“I am?” I asked, suddenly sounding like a soft marshmallow of a human.
“Nat,” she groaned, exasperated. “Like you didn’t know that.”
I exhaled sharply, trying to get myself under control.
“Of course, I knew that,” I finally said, sounding much more like my usual, fabulous self. “Who else in your life could compare? But if you make me wear one of those hideous Christmas sweaters at any point during the wedding festivities, I’ll never forgive you.”
“Throw away the llama sweater I’m holding. Got it.” She snorted.
A guy’s voice called her name. Levi , I assumed. “Kay, sis. I’ve got to go! Love you. See you soon. ”
“Let me know if—” Paige hung up before I could finish my sentence. Also rude.
I flopped back onto my bed, staring at the ceiling like it held answers.
I started mentally calculating the odds of Easton being there.
He’d been Levi’s closest friend in high school…
but that had been a long time ago. Things change.
People grow apart. Especially when one of those people becomes a literal movie star and the other—Levi, obviously—still lives in a town where the biggest news last week was the church potluck catching fire.
But what if he was there?
That question dug into me like a splinter.
Who gives a fuck , though ? I told myself with a little more venom than necessary. I was the one who had ended things. I’m sure he had long forgotten about me. He’d probably see me and shake my hand like we were old business associates. Maybe even thank me for not dragging it out.
Cool. Great. Fabulous.
For the rest of the day, I pretended to care about finals, pretended to pay attention to my group project meeting, pretended I wasn’t internally screaming.
But all I could think was:
What if he’s there?