3. Christmas ‘23
3
CHRISTMAS ‘23
Winnie
Christmas has always been my favorite time of year specifically the Holly Jolly Festival the town hosts annually.
There’s something so profound and beautiful to me about all of our community coming together and choosing to celebrate Christmas Eve and Christmas Day in the heart of Magnolia Hollow. We don’t exchange gifts or make a big show of giving the kids toys. The festival is genuinely about spending time together.
Being a community.
That’s life in a small town, I suppose.
Gwen always leaves the doors to Sugar propped open and serves free hot chocolate both days. She even sets up a toppings bar to add marshmallow fluff, sprinkles, or whipped cream. This year Gwen and I laid out craft supplies on all the tables, so people could come in and sip their hot drink while making an ornament as a keepsake.
Edith hosts a holiday themed story time, so parents can wander around her bookstore and peruse the shelves while Edith animatedly reads their children a Christmas tale. Occasionally, someone else from the community takes over for Edith to give her a break. Our Mayor, Christian Taylor, always reads in reindeer antlers and a silly sweater. This year, he’s even added clogs that jingle when he walks.
Tootsie’s longtime boyfriend, Jon, always plays Santa Claus at the village we build in the public parking area to imitate Santa’s workshop. Jon is a hotshot lawyer. People come from miles and miles away to his little office here in Magnolia Hollow, so it is heartwarming to see him take his role as Santa so seriously.
It’s also confusing in a lot of ways. To see Jon Hamilton go from angry eyebrows in a nice pressed suit to jovial in a clunky, stained, red suit. To see him yell at another lawyer or clients who get upset with him to doting on Tootsie and bringing her a bouquet from Bluebird or Mitzy’s is weird.
He’s a mix of several different personalities, all rolled into one.
Speaking of Tootsie, she’s in a booth with Mrs. Betty near a few other craft booths set up helping Isabel serve homemade lemonades. Her bleach blonde hair is big and bouncy as she flounces around the enclosed tent with a wide smile and horns. (If you ask her why she’s wearing horns instead of antlers, she grins salaciously and talks about what a naughty girl she’s been.) I’m not sure how much work they’re doing, but Isabel is laughing, floating around with ease. All the evidence necessary to determine she’s having the time of her life.
For the past two years, I’ve joined in on the fun.
That’s right. You’re looking at one of Santa’s most helpful elves. I even made my costume this year. It took a couple of weeks, but I have to say I’m the best looking elf here.
My hat fits perfectly over my blonde, french braids that hang down my back. I applied heavy pink blush and faux freckles to my cheeks and nose and red lipstick that I felt self-conscious about momentarily, but then Gwen took one look at me and declared I was the hottest elf she’d ever seen.
So I don’t feel so uneasy anymore.
My eyes scan the crowd as a three-year-old clings to Jon—Santa, sorry —as he tells him a laundry list of things he wants to find under his tree, and when his mom grows increasingly concerned, I shoot her a placating grin.
I’m happy. I am, really. Life might not be going the way I thought it would, but I’m happy.
There’s only one thing that would make the holiday better, though, but he’s over a thousand miles away taking a well-deserved rest after dominating in his hockey game.
Beck hasn’t come home for any holiday since he left for college, and although we’ve grown rather close since the end of summer, I still don’t expect him to race home anytime soon.
After he left so abruptly at the end of summer, it forced me to come to terms with what that meant. Not for us , but for me.
When Beck left for college without saying goodbye, it gutted me. I’ll be honest. My crush had clearly grown and snowballed into something uncontainable by then. I’d spent the summer pretending time stood still, and everything I’d been so worried about wouldn’t bother me as long as Beck was by my side. Even when he left, I tried to delude myself into believing that as long as I didn’t acknowledge it, then it would be okay.
My mom found my rejection letters three days later.
It was the first time she’d ever locked me in my room. Honestly, it was the first time I’d ever given her a reason to be so harsh. For two days, I couldn’t get out to eat or go to work. Thank god, my room has its own bathroom. Gwen’s inquiries into where the hell I had disappeared to was the only reason my mother finally let me out.
But something strange happened after that.
Lorelei stays gone like always. Even more so than before the letters, if possible. But Colson has been home for a late dinner every night. We don’t eat together. We don’t even really talk to one another besides the occasional upnod from him as I run out the door. The first time I saw him sitting at the counter with a mug of coffee and the newspaper on his tablet I’d almost tripped over the final stair. He didn’t say anything, just nodded, and I left; my feet on autopilot as I told myself to get the heck out. I hadn’t even grabbed my bag.
Now he’s there every morning, watching wide eyed as I rush around the kitchen and hop around the entryway, and he’s there every evening with a pile of paperwork and a sandwich. It’s unnerving.
I hate how much I love it— crave it— after not having it for years though. I broke down to Cole about it. I told him it made me sick to my stomach to get a thrill at the small amount of attention my dad was giving me now. Cole told me I should never feel like I have to earn my parents’ love, and I’ve had to remind myself of that every morning when my first thought is to convince myself to reapply to colleges or quit Sugar for their sake.
Gwen was overjoyed to know I wouldn’t be leaving her after all. In fact, she was so happy she gave me a raise and a promotion. I’d laughed and pointed out we were the only two employees, so being a manager wasn’t really all that important, but she insisted.
It made sense when she hired three local teenagers to help part-time at the shop in October. Gwen’s helped me feel like an important part of helping her expand her business and train new employees. I owe her a lot for pulling me out of a slump by simply trusting me.
Sienna…
Well, I’m not sure what to say about her. She was mad. Beyond mad. She probably still is. Heck if I know. Sienna had all these plans and ideas in her head for college. She was making mood boards and planning itineraries for us. She was ready to have the freshman-in-college movie montage with the perfect soundtrack behind it.
And I stomped on that.
She isn’t answering my texts, but I’m hoping she’ll forgive me once she settles in at Harvard a bit more…
Maybe.
Life has slowed down a lot since summer.
When the Hollow and its residents realized I was still in town instead of at college with Sienna, they asked a few questions, spread a couple of rumors, but ultimately didn’t care too much. Mrs. Betty was just happy to see me every morning on my walk to work, and Matt had offered me an official part-time job helping his mom on the ranch.
I feel like I finally have a sense of purpose, and it’s all thanks to Magnolia Hollow and the people who live here.
The solitude I once felt doesn’t feel so heavy lately.
“Winnie!” Jon’s voice booms from beside me, snapping me out of my trance where I was staring at the Mayor dance around for the kids in Edith’s shop. “I think someone’s here for you.”
My brow furrows as I look at where he’s gesturing with his obnoxious, white beard, and my breath catches.
Beck? I mouth.
He standing there with a grin on his perfect face and a beanie on his head, tufts of dark hair curling around the green fabric. He’s holding two travel cups from Sugar in his hands, and he extends one my way, a silent request to come get it.
I leave my post as Santa’s helper, unbothered and uncaring as I push a kid away from me with one stiff arm. I only have eyes for one person at the moment, and I don’t know how he expects me to breathe when he’s looking at me like that.
Like he’s happy to see me.
Like he missed me.
Like he came home to me .
As soon as I get close enough for him to hear me, I ask him loudly, “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you.”
I’m standing in front of him, swallowing the lump in my throat as I squeeze my hands into fists. Hope blooms in my chest, the emotion swirling throughout my body in a way that makes me feel like I’m levitating with it. Gazing up at him, I feel like time stands still yet again.
Finally, I reply, “You found me.”
Beck just nods, his grin wide and dazzling. “I look for you in every crowd lately, you know.”
“You do?”
“Is that so surprising?” He lifts a brow.
“I’m right here, Beck. I always have been,” I tell him as I take a step closer. “You’ll never have to look too hard for me.”
He shifts closer, and I can smell his soft, woodsy scent all around me as his eyes dip to my red lips. “I?—”
“Beckett Hale!”
I startle backwards as Cole and Matt Fletcher stride towards us, smiles on their faces as they hug Beck. He extends his arms out so the cups don’t get smashed against his chest, and I take one of them to help. He shoots me an appreciative look from over Cole’s shoulder.
“When’d you get back?” Matt asks, opting to clap Beck on the shoulder instead. “Pretty sure Sylvia told Mom you weren’t coming back at the holidays anymore.”
Beck shrugs, cheeks turning a light shade of pink as his eyes flick to mine before looking back at the men in front of him. “I missed being home.”
“Right,” Cole says, catching onto the moment he clearly interrupted. “Well, we were on our way to get some lemonade and hot chocolate for Blake.”
Matt rolls his eyes. “She insists she needs both.”
I chuckle. “She asked for another puppy from Santa earlier, so be prepared for that, too.”
“We have three dogs.” Matt rubs his forehead. “She told me she wanted her own goat to keep in the house, too.”
Cole smirked. “Looks like I know what I’m making a last-minute trip to get my favorite niece for Christmas.”
“I’ll knock your fuckin’ teeth out if you bring a goat into my home,” Matt threatens, and my eyes widen.
I’ve gotten used to their bantering and the rather aggressive way they talk to each other now that I’ve been helping on the ranch more during the week, but I’m an only child. Any sibling relationship fascinates me.
Cole and Matt wander off after another minute, but I don’t have time to talk to Beck again before Jamie Wilson, a junior at Magnolia Hollow High School, tugs on my arm with an urgent emergency. She started her period and bled through her elf skirt. (I gave her my sweats I planned to change into later.)
“Wait for me?” I ask, scared Beck will disappear if I leave.
He grins, dimples creasing his cheeks. “You’ll have to find me.”
I shoot Beck a cheesy grin and take off to fix one crisis after another.
It’s not until Santa’s workshop closes at eight o’clock that I’m finally able to search for Beck this time. I take longer than I’d like, but that’s what happens now that I’ve inserted myself so deeply in the community that people come to me with questions.
I finally find him and Ben seated at a table in Sugar crafting ornaments as Gwen cleans around the shop and sells the last of her cupcakes.
She waves at me as I walk inside and silently screams, pointing at Beck while doing an excited little jig behind the counter. I share her sentiments before smoothing my features as I approach their table.
“Found you.”
Beck lifts his head and smiles softly at me. He looks exhausted, and I feel bad for asking him to wait.
“Sorry,” I say, taking a seat at the table. I nod at Ben, who’s making the most intricate snowy escape on his ornament I’ve ever seen. “Everyone seemed to have some kind of question anytime they passed me.”
Beck chuckles, leaning back in his seat, eyes dipping to examine me. “It’s nice to see you so happy. ”
I remember one of our many conversations on the swing set last summer. How Beck equates purpose with being happy. Have I finally found my purpose in this small town? Maybe. I’ve been happier in the last few months than ever before. I’m not worried about what comes next or how this will look in the eyes of my parents.
I’m just existing and being happy.
Like Beck suggested.
“Yeah…” I reply, gazing into his tired, blue eyes. He looks like he understands the gravity of my one-worded reply.
He leans closer to me and props himself up against crossed arms on the edge of the table. “Are you finished for the night?”
Nodding, I swallow. “Why?”
“I want to give you something.”
My eyes light up. “A gift?”
Beck chuckles, “Something like that, yeah.”
“Can I change first?” I look down at my costume and remember my makeup. I wince as I move to stand. “Let me run back to my house, then I’ll meet you at our spot?”
My cheeks heat at my wording, but Beck just grins and stands as well. “I’ll walk you home.”
“Oh, no. It’s okay,” I say, backing away. I’m not are why the idea of him seeing me in my elf get up any longer makes me want to vomit, but it does. “I’ll meet you in half an hour?”
“Win,” Beck says, reaching out for my hands I’ve held up defensively. His hands engulf mine, thumbs rubbing the stretch of smooth skin on my wrist until my muscles relax. “I’m walking you home. Ben wants to finish his tiny painting, anyway.”
Ben pipes up. “Please put everyone in this establishment out of their misery, and let him walk you home, Winifred.”
I blink at Ben then Beck, my fingers flexing in his grip. I breathe out. “Okay…”
He tells his brother bye then grabs my one of my hands as we walk outside.
Beck
The Holly Jolly Festival has always been my least favorite time of the year.
Something about the holiday themed music and copious amounts of fake snow—I cannot remember the last time we had a white Christmas in Magnolia Hollow—makes my skin itch, which is another reason I’ve opted not to come home at our holiday breaks the last couple of years.
This year though…
I’ve only been back in Magnolia Hollow for a few hours, and I already wish I had more time.
Every year, our university hosts a holiday game on the twenty-third of December, and it just so happened this was also the year the administration forced us to wear jingle bells on our uniforms and listen to Mariah Carey in between quarters while we raised money for charity. It’s usually a pretty boring game, too. Our university always hosts a team that doesn’t compare to us skill-wise.
We played against our rival team this year, and it was an intense game.
The University of Texas got the victory, of course. We’re undefeated for a reason.
For the first time in my life, I didn’t want to play hockey, though. As soon as my skates hit the ice, my eyes wandered to the stands, searching for Winnie in a sea of orange and white even though I knew she wouldn’t be there.
It felt pathetic, but I couldn’t help the way she made me feel.
Which is probably why I spent the better part of my evening wandering around a festival I don’t like while I waited for my girl to finish being the hottest elf in Santa’s workshop.
My girl…
She’s not my girl.
I know she’s the only girl I want. The only girl I’ve wanted for months now. But Winnie doesn’t know that, and she won’t know until I tell her.
When she finds me later, I’m close to nodding off at the table.
Ben’s been silently painting on his ornament and huffing out a breath occasionally when something isn’t looking the way he wants. He spent fifteen minutes complaining about the lack of art in Magnolia Hollow. I finally snapped and told him to open a goddamn art studio then. He stopped talking and focused after that.
I’m itching to talk to her. To confess how I feel. To take the risk of rejection and cast it aside.
I’m not sure what possesses me to grab Winnie’s hand and wrap my own around it when we leave Sugar. Her hand is cool to the touch but soft and small, cradled in mine. Her fingers flex before squeezing my hand gently.
We walk in comfortable silence until we reach our street.
“I’m still in shock that you’re here,” she admits with a small, shy grin.
Chuckling, I shrug, ready to downplay it the same way I did to Cole and Matt, but something stops me. The whole reason I came home. The reason I’ve been sitting in Sugar for more than an hour waiting for her.
“I wanted to see you,” I tell her.
Winnie looks at me like she’s trying to figure out if I’m lying. Her golden eyes roam over my face as we pause in the middle of the street. Quietly, she says, “I wanted to see you, too.”
It feels like a declaration from both of us.
“That simple, huh?”
Winnie smiles shyly, chews on her lip for a moment, then nods. “It can be that simple, right?”
My hand squeezes hers. “Win?—”
A water droplet hits my face and rolls down my cheek .
“Is it supposed to rain?” I ask as I tilt my head back to look at the clouds hiding the moon.
And Winnie? She giggles as the bottom drops out suddenly.
Her grip on my hand tightens, and she drags me along behind her in a sprint toward our houses. At some point, she releases me to spin and twirl, arms outstretched. She tears her elf hat off, crumpling it in her hand as she lets the water soak her, and I follow suit, pulling off my beanie and stomping in puddles forming in the road.
I’m just a man.
I am a man who is watching one of the most beautiful girls enjoy life in an elf costume with the biggest grin on her face and laughter floating all around us. I’m weak. So weak. It’s hard to remind myself to be on my best behavior when all I want to do is scoop her up in my arms and kiss her red lips.
But there’s an order to this. Tell her my feelings. Then, if she reciprocates, we can kiss.
It’s not until headlights shine as a car heads our way that I reach out and wrap an arm around her waist to pull her out of the road with a shout at the driver. Her hands are resting on my shoulders, chest heaving as she gazes up at me.
Winnie grins and confesses, “I love the rain.”
I can only nod, thoughts swirling around in my head at lightning speed as my eyes roam over her face.
“Thank you. For pulling me out of the road. I should’ve been paying better atten?— ”
Shaking my head, I cut her off. “They wouldn’t have hit you. Just scary in the moment.”
She blinks a few raindrops off her lashes. “Still.”
I stare at her unabashedly.
“What?”
“Even soaking wet with mascara running down your face and a silly costume on,” I answer, squeezing her body closer to mine. “I think you’re so beautiful, Winnie.”
Immediately, she wipes at her cheeks, and I grab both of her hands and bring them to the small of her back, holding them there with one of my own. I bring my other hand to her face, cupping her cheek.
“Didn’t you hear me?” I ask, catching a drop of water tinged black with my thumb. “You are so beautiful like this. I want to fall to my knees in the middle of the goddamn street and worship you, Winnie.”
She inhales, chest rising and smashing her breasts against my chest. “I would pay every cent in my bank account to see Beckett Hale on his knees for me.”
“I’ll do it for a kiss.”
Winnie’s eyes flicker down to my lips, and she nods quickly, eager. Like she’s dying to feel my lips on hers in the same way I’m dying for a taste of her.
My thumb smooths over her bottom lip, a streak of that cherry-colored lipstick following in its wake. Smears of red over her chin and nearing her jaw. Mascara running down her cheeks. Her eyelashes fluttering as she waits for me to lean closer. I don’t release her hands yet, though I don’t think it would matter much. She’s not fighting me .
“What are you waiting for?” Winnie asks, frustration lacing her voice. “Kiss me, Beck.”
“Give me a minute,” I beg. “I want to memorize the way you look right now.”
Winnie’s breath ghosts over my lips, and I feel goosebumps erupt over my skin. “How do I look right now?”
“Wrecked.” My hand slides down over her jaw until it’s wrapped around her throat, my thumb under her chin, and I use it to tilt her head farther back. “On the side of the road dressed like a fucking elf begging me to kiss you. You look like a dream.”
My dream . But I don’t say that.
Because her eyes are glazed over with desire and longing. I can practically feel the way she’s hanging on every word I say. I can feel it in her limbs I’m restricting, in her pulse point under my fingers, in the way she trusts me to hold her.
“You look like one day you could be mine, Winnie.”
Now she fights me, tugging her hands free as a noise I want to swallow falls from her lips.
When her hands flatten against my chest, I grab her hip and tug her flush against me, relishing the gasp she lets out as she falls into me so easily.
My lips seal over Winnie’s softly, hesitantly, like at any moment she could push me away despite the way her fingers are curled so tightly into my hoodie it’s like she’s trying to sink beneath my skin.
I want that. I want her lips against mine, her hands on my body, and her scent clinging to my skin. I want to know she’s as gone on me as I am for her.
She kisses both like it’s the first time she’s ever done it and like it’s the only thing that’ll save her from death. Winnie is not hesitant or tentative as she molds her lips to mine. She takes control of everything as I contemplate the depths of her need for me, and it’s not until her tongue brushes my bottom lip that I snap back into myself.
My hand slides around her head until I’m gripping her nape, holding her close as I nip at her mouth and take back the control she hadn’t even realized she snatched away from me. My other hand grips her waist, squeezing as she mimics the way my lips move over hers.
When I scrape my teeth over her bottom lip, she does it back. When I slip my tongue in her mouth, she hooks hers over mine. When I suck her lip in between my teeth, pull on the flesh and bite it until she’s gasping into my mouth, she does the same to me.
Like the entire kiss is her way of learning.
I pull away breathlessly and rest my forehead against hers, eyes closed. The rain has slowed down some, but when I feel Winnie let out a full body shiver, I know it’s time to end the moment.
“Come on,” I say as I drop my hands from her body and step away. “You’re freezing.”
Her lips form into the most delicious pout I’ve ever seen, and it takes every bit of self-control I have not to pull her back into my arms and devour her mouth all over again .
Instead, I grab her hand and lead her the rest of the way to her house. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
Glancing back at her, I can tell from the wholesome, na?ve look on her face that she’s not asking in a sexy way to be coy and sly.
I stare straight ahead at the brick mailbox that marks her house. “Like you want me to kiss you again.”
“I do.”
“Winnie…”
She spins to face me, walking backwards toward her front door with my hand still tightly grasped in hers. She smiles shyly. “Do you want to come inside, Beck?”
What kind of question is that?
I keep walking toward her until her back hits the front door, a thud reverberating in the eery silence of the night, and I realize I’d do anything to have her staring up at me like this for the rest of my life.
Her golden eyes are darker right now, hooded with desire and vulnerability.
I lean in far enough to run the tip of my nose along hers, over the bridge and back down until her eyes flutter closed.
Then I kiss her again.
I kiss her because she’s been on my mind for months. I kiss her because she’s more beautiful soaking wet in a stupid Christmas costume than anyone I’ve ever seen. I kiss her because it feels effortless and life-altering. I kiss her because her lips are soft and chilly, perfectly fitted against mine, like her mouth was meant to be pressed against mine.
I kiss her because the idea of not kissing her makes my stomach turn violently.
I kiss her because I’ve wanted to since I pushed her on that swing and told her that her purpose in life was to exist and be happy.
And the best part of it all is that she kisses me back.
Winnie
Saying goodbye to Beck is harder than I thought it would be.
He’s spent most of his time with his family, soaking up as much of their overbearing presence as he can before he has to leave for the airport early in the morning. Ben wanted to leave late Christmas night, but Beck persuaded him to leave early on the twenty-sixth instead.
I don’t want to assume it’s because he doesn’t want to leave me, but my stupid, hopeless romantic heart can’t help but wonder if he’s having as hard of a time trying to say goodbye to me as I am to him.
Easy to think when Beck takes up sneaking through my bedroom window with a grunt and a cheesy grin. Easier to think when he kisses me deeply, lips soft and curious as his hands cup my face and trailing over my waist .
It’s like the floodgates of emotions have opened with Beck, and now I don’t know if it was ever truly me that’s been suffering from a dangerously-bad-for-my-health crush, or if it’s Beck, after all.
I am so confused, scared I might be projecting my own feelings onto him.
The sun slowly sinks as night falls, and I yank the sleeves of my shirt down over my hands, waiting on the swing set. Just like every time I sit in this rundown park, my nerves kick up. When I hear the telltale crunch of footsteps, I twist around, an embarrassing smile spreading across my face.
“Get away from your family?”
Beck chuckles and steps up beside me, hands chilly on my skin as he grabs my face and brushes my hair behind my ears. “Andy video called from somewhere in Europe, so that took forever.”
“Oh?” I feel breathless as he tenderly caresses my face. “How is she?”
Beck runs his thumb over my cheeks, then he pulls away, and my face tilts upwards like I’m chasing after him. He falls gracefully into the swing beside me, and I stare in front of me while I try to gather my bearings.
“She’s good. Living the nomadic life,” Beck says, shrugging. “I just don’t understand where she’s getting the money.”
“Money?”
“Yeah… How is she funding such luxurious trips when she’s never worked a day in her life? ”
I tilt my head, intrigued. “Maybe your parents are helping her?”
Beck shakes his head and pushes off the ground, whizzing past me with a small smile. “My parents couldn’t afford to help her, and even if they could, they wouldn’t. It’s been a fight between them for years.”
“Between Andy and your parents?”
Beck nods, and my eyes follow him back and forth. “I don’t know how she did it, but she managed to grow up so entitled. She wants everything given to her.”
“I don’t know,” I say softly. “Maybe, in some roundabout way, it’s less about having everything , and more about having something for herself.”
“What?”
“There’s so many of you, Beck. You never felt like you missed out? Like you had to share everything in your life with others.” I shrug. “Maybe Andy just wants…to have what she felt like she missed out on.”
Beck’s brow furrows, and he speaks in a sarcastic, incredulous way that makes me smile. “So Andy wants something for herself, but she wants to use all our parents’ money to fund it? Makes total sense.”
“I didn’t say it made sense.”
Beck looks at me, his feet dragging to a stop as he stands far back, the rubber seat at the top of his butt. “What are you saying then?”
Inhaling nervously, I lick my lips and shrug my shoulders, a small, uncomfortable smile on my face. “I… I just th ink that, while it doesn’t make it right, there’s potentially a deeper reason for Andy’s behavior.”
Beck stares at me then he lets out a breath and slides onto the seat as he glides past me deftly, then back again before I can blink.
He doesn’t say anything else, but I can see the way the corner of mouth turns down as he processes my words.
But me? I watch him.
I memorize the way the blue hue of his eyes darken in the moonlight and the way they crinkle at the corners whenever he’s happy and relaxed. I catalogue all the different depths to his dimples and just how to make them appear on his face. I commit all the vulnerable and honest versions of Beckett he’s shown me in such a short time to my memory, just in case this is the last time we sit together like this.
Just like the first time we met here, our swings pass each other going in the opposite directions. Unlike the first time, my brain interprets it as a sign.
That’s how it feels with Beck.
Like we’re going in opposite directions constantly.
But occasionally there’s a moment, brief and fleeting, where we meet in the middle. We share a smile and a hushed flurry of secrets before we’re separating again, arms outstretched as life yanks us away from one another before we can get too comfortable.
It’s frustrating.
Standing from the rubber seat, I cross my arms over my chest and rub the palms of my hands over my arms. It’s not cold, but I shiver anyway, the anxiety I feel rumbling beneath my skin as I gaze up at the sky.
There are stars everywhere, and it’s the first time I wish I knew how to look for constellations in the sky so when I look back on this moment, I can remember that when I looked up at the night sky Orion or Pegasus or the Big Dipper were there.
Instead, I sigh, overwhelmed in the moment with emotion.
Behind me, I hear Beck’s swing stop squeaking beneath his weight as he dismounts. His feet crunch over the mulch as he comes to stand directly in front of me, but I don’t look at him.
I can’t.
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Beck asks, and I grin at the parallels between all the time we’ve spent together at this park and how it bleeds into every time afterwards.
Head tilted backwards, I confess, “The first time you asked me that I nearly melted.”
Beck chuckles. “It’s because I called you pretty, isn’t it?”
“You are the only boy I’ve ever cared about whether or not you thought I was pretty, and…” I chew my lip as I pause for a moment, “even now it feels surreal to stand here with you.”
“Hey,” Beck says, hand touching my chin softly as he uses his grip on my chin to pull my face down. Our eyes meet, and I know I must look terrified. “I’m real. I’m here. This is real. Okay?”
“That’s the scariest part, Beck.”
His brow furrows. “What… Why?”
And bless his heart, he’s so confused. He’s standing in front of me, probably thinking of all the ways this could go horrifically wrong between us as a worst case scenario, and while those thoughts plague me, they don’t scare me. Maybe it’s because I’m fully prepared for it to all circle the drain and be over in a split second.
I am prepared for the miscommunication and mistakes. I’m ready for the arguments and jealousy. I am prepared for the long distance and the yearning that comes along with it. I am prepared to work for a relationship with Beck, star hockey player on his way to the pros, and for it to be stupidly hard.
This whole time I’d been so unsure of… well, everything between us. I remember specifically telling Gwen that the probability of Beck being into me in the slightest is so small that it wasn’t even on my radar. She’d rolled her eyes at me and hummed.
Gwen will gloat and rub it in my face that she was right all along whenever we get a chance to talk. I haven’t even told her Beck and I kissed! In the rain! In my dumb elf costume! Now, I have to tell her that Beck and I are?—
I don’t know what we are, actually.
Regardless, no, that isn’t the thing that makes me want to pack up before we’ve even tried .
“Imagine this, Beck,” I start, voice soft, eyes pleading, and I grab his hands in mine gently. “Imagine everything is perfect between us. Imagine all the ways this could go wonderfully right. We survive all the ridicule from my parents and the gossips in this town. We survive all the short visits and long distance video calls. We survive the jealousy and temptation, the fame and fortune that you’re inevitably going to achieve.”
Beck looks like he’s in pain from how confused he is. “I see it. I can imagine all of that, Winnie. Where is this going? Because you look like that sounds worse than sex with a cactus.”
Ignoring that .
“Imagine it all crashes to the ground in the end, Beck. Imagine, after all the work we’ve put into having such a great relationship that can survive being miles and miles apart and your big NHL dreams, that it just comes crumbling down around us.”
“Why—”
I cut him off quickly. “I couldn’t survive that. I’ll be able to move on with my life if this ends here because I never got the opportunity to truly know you, Beck, but if I’m able to know you and love you? I won’t survive the end of this.”
Beck shakes his head and takes a step away, but I can tell it kills him to put space between us. “I see what you’re trying to do here, and I’m telling you now to fucking stop it.”
“Excuse me?”
“You can be scared, Winnie. You can feel insecure and unsure about me and my feelings for you. You can even think about all the ways this will go wrong. I get it.”
My brain short circuits. Feelings for me? I mean, yes, sure, but to hear him say it? Wow.
Beck scowls, eyes narrowing as his chest heaves a bit. “But you’re not allowed to give up because you’re scared to…what? Even try? Potentially waste your time by loving me?”
I sputter a bit. “I…I just meant?—”
“I know this is too soon to say all of this,” Beck mumbles, shoving a hand through his hair. The dark strands stick up at off angles, and the sight makes something in my chest relax.
Nodding, I stay silent, waiting for my tongue to unstick from the roof of my mouth.
“Live your life a little, Winnie,” Beck says, still standing away from me, and I have the slightest inkling that maybe now he’s guarding himself from me . “You once told me about only living for your parents…”
My arms cross defensively over my chest. “I’m not. I?—”
Beck runs his hands through his hair again. “What do you need from me right now, Winnie? What can I say or do?”
“I don’t know!” I breathe heavily, arms thrown out at my sides as I stare at him. “I don’t know, okay? I have had the most embarrassing crush on you for years , Beck. Years! So maybe it’s a little daunting and a whole lot terrifying to hear you call me pretty or say that you have feelings for me.”
Beck steps closer now, hands still at his sides as he gazes down at me. “Get fucking scared then, Winnie. Because I don’t think you’re pretty. You are so unbelievably beautiful that I might just quit hockey altogether to write sonnets about you. I’ll shout them from every rooftop in this town.”
“Beck—”
“I might not have the time under my belt like you do, but I have the silly, embarrassing crush now.” Beck has a ghost of a smile on his face, but all I can do is stare at him with wide eyes, hearts on our sleeves. “I think about you constantly, Winnie. First thing in the morning when I’m wondering what kind of coffee you’re drinking that morning, and you’re my last thought when my head hits the pillow every night, wondering if you’re reading once of your books or watching a terrible, trashy movie too late.”
“Beck, please?—”
He powers on, ignoring my attempts to interrupt him. “I look for your blonde hair and honey eyes in every crowd. At my games, around campus, in all the coffee shops. I watched How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days solely because you told me how much you love it.”
Roughly, I breathe out. “It’s one of the best rom-coms…”
He chuckles. “Winnie, fuck, I came home for Christmas for the first time in two years just so I could see you.”
“I…thank yo u.”
Beck rolls his eyes, running both of his hands through his hair. “Don’t thank me, Jesus.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize either.”
I fist my hands on my hips. “What am I allowed to say, then?”
Beck takes my face between his hands, soft and warm and huge as he cups my cheeks in a way that makes me feel small, and he pulls me into his body. His lips press against mine in an intoxicating answer to my question, and I melt.
My eyelids flutter shut as I bring my hands to his waist tentatively, still afraid that at any moment, this—Beck—could disappear and leave me grasping at air.
When he pulls back, he doesn’t release me. In fact, he only pulls away far enough to allow him to rest his forehead against mine as we breathe in and out together.
“ Say you’re mine ,” Beck whispers, and his voice shakes like he’s truly scared. He shakes his head slightly and swallows. “You’re allowed to say whatever you want, Winnie. Always. But I’m standing here hoping you’ll say you’re mine.”
My breath comes out in short, staccato beats, harsh in the night’s silence, and I close my eyes.
“This feels too fast, Beck.”
“I know.”
Peeking up at him, I pull away so I can really look at him. I repeat, “This is too much, too fast. ”
Beck nods, “Yeah.”
“But that doesn’t matter?”
“It doesn’t matter, Winnie.” Beck swallows thickly, hand shifting, so he’s cupping my cheek again. “I will go as slow or as fast as you want to go, but…”
My heart is beating out of my chest, the rough staccato sounding embarrassingly like Beckett to my ears. Like from the beginning my heart has beat a steady rhythm for him and only him. Like my crush on the boy next door has morphed into something larger than I ever imagined it could be.
“But?”
Beck stares at me, and I wonder if I’ll ever remember all the times when he didn’t stare at me before this moment? If I’ll remember the time before he touched me so delicately, like I am something special to him? If I’ll ever stop feeling all of these butterflies in my stomach when he speaks to me? If my skin will ever stop catching fire whenever he’s near, like his proximity is enough to make me combust?
“But,” Beck repeats, “I want you. It feels insane, I know. I feel insane even saying it when realistically we’ve only known each other for a few months.”
“I’ve known you for years, Beck,” I remind him with a soft, tentative chuckle.
He nods, smiling now, and there’s an appreciative gleam in his eye at my lighthearted response. “We’ve known of each other. Now you know me, though, Winnie. ”
“There’s a difference?”
But even as I say it, I know there is. There’s a vast difference between the Beck I know now and the Beck I thought I knew just two years ago. There’s a new level of intimacy and trust between us, even before he kissed me.
He levels me with his gaze, blue eyes shining brightly. “Don’t be coy.”
Smiling softly, I realize my hands have slid their way up to his shoulders, holding him close. “I wouldn’t know how to be coy if I tried.”
“You’re—”
Beck’s cut off by his phone buzzing, loud and shrill, and we jump apart as he reaches into his back pocket to cut it off.
“Sorry,” Beck mumbles as he looks down at the screen then pockets the device, never answering the call, and I duck my head to hide my growing smile. I don’t want him to neglect his responsibilities or friends, but I enjoy knowing I have all of his attention right now.
“Ben…” Beck says by way of explanation, and I lift my head to look at him. “He was probably reminding me I still need to pack.”
“When is your flight?” I ask, sobering.
“We need to leave by three in the morning.”
“And you still haven’t packed?”
Beck chuckles. He extends his hand toward me. “I know, I know. Come on. I’ll walk you home.”
Our fingers intertwine as we link hands, and I bask in the warmth of his large, calloused hand wrapped around my pale, delicate one. Two total opposites.
As we walk home, I ponder over Beck’s words, and I finally note the way he seems desperate, almost, in his pleading for me to give this a chance, even though it scares the hell out of me. I never even realized just how much it terrifies me until Beck laid it all out there for me.
Beck leads me in comfortable silence to my front porch. He squeezes my hand. “You’re thinking so hard it’s hurting me .”
“Sorry,” I huff out around a laugh. “I’m just thinking about what you said.”
“Oh, yeah?” Beck brushes a piece of blonde hair off of my face and behind my ear. “Good thoughts? Or?”
I chew my lip as my cheeks heat slightly. I don’t answer his question. Instead, I stupidly ask, “Do you want to come in?”
Beck groans. “Fuck, Winnie. Of course I do, but I can’t.”
I squeeze his hand and smile shyly. “I could come help you pack instead?”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Beck shoots forward and kisses my lips briefly then pulls me along behind him as we race toward his childhood home. We’re laughing as we cross the yard, tripping over the sprinklers in the grass, then the rise of the concrete marking the Hale’s driveway.
“Slow down!” I whisper, laughing as he stumbles over a crack in the drive. “Stop running! My legs aren’t that long, Beck!”
“Let’s go. You walk slower than Ms. Bett— oh, shit !” he shouts as he crashes to the grass, pulling me with him.
He rolls onto his back just in time to cushion my fall, and I smack my forehead on his sternum as he grunts and groans beneath me.
“Ow.”
“Shit, fuck … I think I broke my ass.”
I snort, laying my cheek against his chest. “Serves you right. Why were we running?”
“Felt like the right thing to do in the moment.”
“I hate running.”
Beck pokes my side, and I yelp. “You run practically every day.”
“Reluctantly.” I lift to look at his face, noting his closed eyes and relaxed features, like he’s enjoying just laying here together. “I don’t actually like it at all.”
He hums, and I reach a hand out to touch his brow bone just as the porch light flicks on and the front door bursts open.
“What the heck are you guys doing?” Spencer, Beck’s twelve-year-old brother, asks as he stares at us. Ben appears behind him with a cheeky grin. Spencer asks Ben out of the corner of his mouth, “Are they about to do it in the yard?”
I scramble off of Beck and to my feet, wiping the dirt and random blades of grass from my body as best as I can. Beck is slower to get up, grunting roughly as he does, and I have to physically stop myself from glancing at him.
The sounds he makes…
Stop, Winnie.
“Spence, bro, shut up .”
Ben laughs as Beck steers me into the house, and I stick my tongue out at him as I pass by. It’s late enough that most of Beck’s siblings are in bed already, tucked away for the night, and I internally send a thank-you to the universe for sparing me the further embarrassment.
Unfortunately, Sylvia and Drew, Beck’s parents, are still awake, sitting on the couch together with small, knowing smiles on their faces. Sylvia folds a few shirts and stacks them on the cushion beside her while Drew sips from a mug, reading a book atleast four inches wide.
“Are those my clothes?” Beck asks, scooping the laundry pile up before his mom can respond. He kisses her cheek and says, “Thanks, mom.”
She shoos him away. “Yeah, yeah. You better be going to pack. You can’t miss this flight, Beckett.”
Beck scoffs. “Don’t worry. Winnie’s helping me. We’ll be done so fast.”
“Uh-huh. Make sure some packing gets done, please.”
“ Oh, my god ,” I whisper, my cheeks heating.
Beck directs me up the stairs. “ And we’re leaving.”
With one hand on the small of my back, Beck pushes me towards his old childhood bedroom he’s always shared with Ben. I’ve been in the twins’ room a few times before. Usually to put a few random things back in the room that one of the younger Hale’s swiped when they weren’t supposed to.
Even when the twins are gone, there’s a clear difference in each side of the room. Beck and Ben are like night and day compared to each other at times. Where Ben makes his bed every day, folds his navy sheets and stretches them taut like he’s been in the military for years instead of an instinctual habit. In contrast, Beck’s forest green comforter is pushed to the end of the bed with his beige sheets in a crumpled mess around the center. I’m not sure how the fitted sheet stays on if this is how his bed looks in the mornings, honestly.
Ben’s dresser is pristine. Only a few items on the wood surface, like his wallet and keys, a necklace and two rings that he’s placed in a small clay dish I’m sure he made.
Beck’s dresser is in a total state of disarray. There are clothes piled high, hats, one random shoe, an unopened bag of nacho cheese chips, a tangled pair of headphones and a larger pair of headphones, his wallet and keys, a sketchbook, an assortment of photos, and a disposable camera.
It’s overwhelming to see. My brain is whirring.
There are shoes and socks littered around Beck’s bed while Ben’s side of the flooring is spotless besides a pair of house shoes at the foot of his bed.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Beck says, interrupting my thoughts as he scratches his hand through his hair. “I… have no excuse, really. ”
I snort. “You really don’t. Is your apartment in Texas this messy?”
Beck shakes his head and wanders farther into the room, kicking off his shoes as he sits on the bed, and I stifle a grin as I imagine this is part of his routine. This is exactly how all of his shoes end up in various places around his bed.
“No,” Beck clasps his hands between his knees. “I live with roommates in Texas, so I have to be respectful, ya know. I think that’s why I reverted back to old habits when we got here. I haven’t been able to just kick my shoes off in years.”
Smiling softly, I pad across the room and sit beside him, bending my leg so I can face him. My knee brushes his thigh, and my tongue darts out to wet my lips. I don’t think too much as I settle beside him and meet his gaze.
Then his words hit me. “Wait, how many roommates do you have?”
Beck sighs and tilts his head back as he thinks. “Uh, let’s see. There’s me, Ben, and Gus, of course. Then Knox and Ty. They’re on the team with us, so it made sense for us to live together. Helps keep everyone accountable and out of trouble, too.”
“You keep them out of trouble?”
Beck rolls his eyes at my incredulous tone. “Oh, wipe that look off your face. I’m an alternate captain this year. I have to be on my best behavior.”
“Alternate captain?” I ask .
“Hockey shit. If the captain isn’t there, then one of the alternates fills in.”
My eyes widen. “Wow. That’s impressive, Beck.”
He shrugs, and if I look closely, I think I can see his cheeks turning a slight shade of pink. “It looks good to scouts. You know, you’ve never watched me play before.”
“I have.”
“You have?”
Now, it’s my turn to get embarrassed and duck my head. “I watched a few of your games before you left for college.”
Beck grins and hooks his index finger underneath my chin. He tilts my head up and looks down at me. “You should come to one of my games this season.”
“In Texas?” I foolishly ask.
But Beck just chuckles and nods. “Yeah. Come to one of my games. Watch me play.”
We stare at each other for a moment, and Beck wraps his hands around mine, pulling them into his lap as he smiles at me, hopeful and so cute it makes my chest hurt.
Could I go to Texas? The thought of leaving Magnolia Hollow, even for a second, leaves me feeling itchy and scared, but being able to see Beck in his element with his friends on the ice? Knowing that he wants me to come?
“Okay,” I mumble, smile growing as his own does.
He pushes at my shoulder until I’m on my back, his body hovering over mine as he gazes down at me. He’s on his side, arm laying lightly across my stomach, fingers splayed over my waist. The heat of his hand burns through the thin material of my shirt, and I swallow thickly, unsure what to do with my own hands as heat pools in my lower belly.
“Beck?” I whisper hoarsely.
He doesn’t say anything. Just lowers his head until his lips are pressing against mine, tongue licking along the seam of my mouth until I open for him. His tongue slips into my mouth, licks over my teeth and caresses my tongue until my hands are lifting to card through his hair. A noise I’ve never made before tumbles out of me as Beck squeezes my waist, and my hips lift of their own accord.
My hip brushes along the front of Beck’s athletic shorts, and I gasp into his mouth.
Beck breaks the kiss and drops his head to rest on my shoulder, breathing heavily as his fingers tighten minutely on my waist again.
I rake my fingers through his tousled hair, my heart racing.
“I’m going to miss you, Winnie.”
Lifting his head, I cup his face and press a kiss to his lips. “Yeah?”
Beck nods, eyes dipping down to my mouth before meeting my amber eyes once more. “I don’t know what we’re doing here. I don’t really even need to define it because…it doesn’t matter in the end. I just don’t want to leave without you knowing how I feel.”
“I feel the same way, Beck,” I confess finally. He deserves it after spilling his guts in the park and being so honest with me this whole time. “All of it. Even if it’s too fast.”
He huffs out an airy laugh. “Can I say something scary?”
“You’ve already said a lot of scary things.”
“Just one more?”
I soften, my fingers raking through his hair again as I try not to show him how affected by him. “Just one. Then we need to get you packed.”
He inhales and exhales, blue eyes dark and serious. “I think you’re it for me. I’ve always heard people say ‘when you know, you know’ and… I just know with you, Winnie.”
“Beck,” I breathe.
“You don’t have to say anyth?—”
I cut him off by pulling his face down to mine, kissing him squarely on the mouth to shut him up. Because, while I might be scared to get my hopes up right now, every word that leaves his mouth is making me want to suggest we run off to Vegas and get married by drunk Elvis.
And that would be more absurd than anything we’ve said tonight.