Chapter Three
Riley
I hadn’t even unpacked my suitcase yet, so I’m ready to head to the Steelbirds next door in approximately five minutes. Physically, that is. I’m so not prepared mentally.
Two weeks. Minimum. That’s how long we’ll be living next door with Travis and his entire extended family, according to the plumber’s grim assessment.
Two weeks of trying to act normal around the guy I used to write embarrassing letters to about my favorite books and what Shakespeare and Stephen King have in common.
I remember rambling about how they’re both ridiculously prolific and don’t shy away from the dark side of things.
I even wrote that Macbeth and Carrie could practically share therapy notes, in an attempt to sound funny and clever at the same time.
And still, Travis always wrote back, sounding intrigued and interested. Not once did he laugh at my geeky obsessions.
“Riley, honey, can you grab the photo albums from the hallway closet?” Mom calls from downstairs, snapping me out of my thoughts. “I’m not leaving those behind.”
“Mom, we’re going next door, not evacuating to another state,” I shout back, but I get up from my old bed anyway.
If I don’t grab the photo albums, Mom will just worry about them the entire time we’re at the Steelbirds.
I tuck them into a tote bag hanging off my standing mirror.
I catch my reflection and realize my cheeks are still flushed from being outside in the snow with Travis.
Or from thinking about him for the last couple of hours and how he called me ‘the girl next door’ like it meant something.
It doesn’t, though. He has Sienna Montgomery—beautiful, talented, famous, perfect Sienna Montgomery, who probably never gets flustered.
“Riley! We’re loading up the car!” Dad yells.
The car? Last time I checked, the Steelbirds lived within walking distance, hence the term neighbors. But knowing my mom, she’s probably forcing Dad to take the car so she can bring half the house with her. You know, just in case of another disaster.
I head downstairs with my suitcase, and my jaw drops to the floor. Mom has packed like we’re moving permanently, Dad is trying to figure out how to fit everything in the car, and water is still seeping across the kitchen floor despite our best towel efforts.
“Maybe we should make two trips,” Dad suggests, eyeing the mountain of luggage.
“Or we could leave the extra winter coats here since we’re literally going next door,” I offer while side-eyeing Mom, who is wrangling armfuls of coats into a suitcase.
She gives me a look. “Riley, we are not showing up at the Steelbirds’ house unprepared. What if there’s an emergency and we need extra coats?”
“An emergency that requires multiple winter coats? What do you think is going to happen? Another ice age?”
“You never know!”
I roll my eyes but decide not to keep pushing the subject. Mom’s clearly stressed, and the last thing I want right now is to get into an argument about why the planet will probably not freeze over this Christmas.
Twenty minutes and one overpacked car later, my parents are pulling into the Steelbirds’ driveway.
I walked the few yards here, partly because the back seat was already occupied by Mom’s “essential” throw pillows and the army of extra winter coats, partly because I’m not incapable of taking a few steps through the snow.
My stomach does a nervous flip as I see Travis through the front window.
He’s talking to someone and laughing about something.
For a split second, I feel jealous of his girlfriend.
I wish I were… No, I shouldn’t go there.
We both have our own lives. This is just…
I don’t know… nostalgia taking over. Maybe it’s even hormonal.
It could be the cold. But it’s definitely not… old feelings resurfacing.
I ring the doorbell while my parents haul suitcases out of the car. This is fine. I’m a thirty-five-year-old woman. I can handle spending Christmas in close quarters with my childhood crush, who’s now a famous NFL player with a famous girlfriend. I’m a mature adult with a career and—
The front door swings open.
“Hey, Riley,” Travis says with that easy grin of his.
Yeah, I’m doomed.
“Hi,” I say, trying to sound normal instead of someone whose brain has short-circuited. “Thanks again for letting us stay here.”
“Sure thing. My mom loves the idea. Not your house flooding, of course, but she thinks spending the holidays together will be amazing. And I agree,” he says, holding my gaze a few seconds longer than necessary.
He then steps aside to let me in. The house smells like cinnamon, pine, and cookies, and there’s Christmas music playing somewhere in the house.
Before I get a chance to take my shoes off, Travis’s mom appears in the hallway and pulls me into a hug.
“Hi, Mrs. Steelbird,” I say.
“Riley, it’s Rebecca. You know that. And welcome! And don’t worry about a thing, okay? We’re going to make this work.”
“We really appreciate this. I know it’s a lot, but—”
“Nonsense, it’s Christmas. The more the merrier.” She releases me from her warm hug and calls over her shoulder. “Benjamin! The Quinns are here!”
Travis’s dad walks in and gives me a big smile. “Welcome, welcome! Travis, help Riley’s parents with the luggage, will you?”
“Sure,” Travis says, heading past me toward the car where my parents are still unloading the contents of their house.
Rebecca loops her arm through mine. “Now, let me explain the sleeping arrangements. We’ve got your parents in the guest room on the main floor. It’s got its own bathroom, so that’ll be nice and private for them.”
“That’s perfect, thank you.”
“Your brother Beau can take the fold-out couch in the den when he arrives. I know he lives locally and could technically stay at home, but then he’d be missing out on all the fun!”
“And what about me?”
“Well, that’s a bit tricky.”
My stomach drops. Tricky? What does that even mean? She’s not going to let me sleep in a closet under the stairs like I’m Harry Potter, right?
“Well, Aspen and Maddox are in Aspen’s old room. They need the space for the crib and the baby gear. My sister Annie and her husband William are taking the basement suite. My mother is taking the upstairs guestroom.”
“So where does that leave me?” I ask, my anxiety ramping up.
It’s clear she’s afraid to say it.
“Travis’s old room. You’ll have to share.”
“Share? With Travis?”
“Oh no, not like that,” Rebecca laughs, though she still looks uncomfortable. “There are twin beds in there. We converted it into a guest room years ago when Travis moved out. You’ll each have your own bed on a separate side of the room. Completely appropriate.”
Completely appropriate. Right. Sharing a bedroom with Travis Steelbird for two weeks is totally, completely, absolutely appropriate and not at all a recipe for disaster.
It definitely won’t help me stave off these old feelings I have for him.
I mean, I’ll be seeing him fall asleep. I’ll find out how he looks first thing in the morning when waking up.
How am I going to deal with all that? The Harry Potter-style closet suddenly seems extremely appealing.
Rebecca places a hand on my arm. “Unless you’d rather take the air mattress in the living room? Though I should warn you, that’s where everyone congregates in the morning for coffee.”
I imagine trying to sleep while Rebecca’s sister, Annie, and whoever else trample through at dawn, making small talk while I’m in my pajamas on an air mattress. At least a bedroom has a door. Privacy. Even if that privacy comes with a Travis-shaped complication.
“The twin beds are fine,” I say, admitting defeat.
Rebecca’s face brightens with relief. “Oh, wonderful! Travis already cleared out half the closet for you, and there’s drawer space too. He’s very tidy. You won’t even know he’s there.”
Won’t even know he’s there. Sure. Because I’ve done such a great job of not noticing Travis’s presence so far.
Speaking of, he comes back through the door, carrying my suitcase.
“Where do you want this one?”
“That’s mine, so I guess your bedroom? Because we’ll be roommates. On completely separate sides of the room,” I quickly add.
“Right,” he says.
But he doesn’t move. Instead, he stands there frozen, like he’s already forgotten what he was supposed to do with my suitcase.
Rebecca claps her hands together. “I’ll let you two get settled. Dinner’s at six. Travis, make Riley feel at home, will you?”
And then she’s gone, disappearing back into the kitchen, leaving me and Travis standing in the entryway staring at each other.
“Come on, I’ll help you get settled,” he finally says.
I follow him up the stairs to his old room.
He opens the door, and it’s like stepping back in time.
Even though the walls are a neutral beige now, I can still see the faint outline of where his posters used to hang.
There are now indeed two beds instead of one.
Rebecca technically wasn’t wrong. They are on opposite sides of the room, but there’s only about four feet between them.
“I cleared out the left side of the closet and the top three drawers,” Travis says, setting my suitcase down on the bed closest to the window.
“This is great. Really. Thank you.”
He shoves his hands in his pockets, and for the first time since I arrived, he looks uncertain. “Look, I know this is weird. If you’re uncomfortable, we can figure something else out.”
“I’m not uncomfortable,” I lie.
“Great.”
“I’ll give you your privacy so you can unpack. But I’m glad you’re here. It’s good to see you again. We’re going to have fun. Right?”
I nod, and then he’s gone.
I should start unpacking. Should do something. Anything. Instead, I just sit on the bed and wonder how I’m going to survive rooming with Travis without, well… falling for him. Again.
Because the last thing I need is to have my heart broken.
Again.