Chapter 40
Nikolai
Snow drifts from the heavens as I stand in Isabelle’s parents’ driveway.
The driver offered to carry my bags to the door, but I declined. The entire ride from the city to Port Washington, I stared
at the passing Christmas decorations on front lawns, trying to ignore the pit in my stomach. I thought by the time I arrived,
I’d have calmed my nerves, but I need another moment.
Even in the dark, it’s easy to see that this isn’t just a house. It’s a home. It’s absolutely beautiful, a towering cream-colored
colonial with a wraparound porch and twin pines on the front lawn, but I’m drawn to the crooked wreath on the front door and
the multicolored lights hanging from the roof. Light spills from the windows on the first floor, illuminating the silvery
Christmas tree in the front hall. Isabelle’s family is well-off, and even from the outside, I can tell that her parents have
used their wealth very differently than Grandfather. The party I just escaped was stuffy, formal, and utterly boring. Whatever’s
happening inside, I can guarantee it’s none of those things.
Cricket caught me on my way out the door and told me to have fun, and I think she meant it as a serious reminder. New Year’s
is just around the corner, after all, and with it, the anniversary of the night everything shattered.
There’s a family inside. Isabelle and her parents, her siblings, their partners. A real family, complete with well-loved holiday traditions. Even though she invited me, I’ll be the odd man out. An interloper, especially in the same room as Cooper.
It takes me three tries to press the doorbell.
A blond woman with pretty hazel eyes opens the door. She’s wearing an oversized red sweater and leggings. Beaded Santa earrings
glint through her hair. As she takes me in, her smile grows so wide, I nearly turn around.
“You must be Nikolai!” she says. “I’m Bex. Come inside. Can you believe it’s actually snowing on Christmas Eve?”
She ushers me into the house before I can escape, fussing immediately with my coat. I set down my suitcase and bag of presents,
unwinding my cashmere scarf. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“And I’m so glad to meet you. Izzy’s told me a ton about you.”
“Yeah?”
“Of course I have,” Isabelle says, stepping into the foyer. “Hey, Nik.”
I nearly drop my coat. Fuck, I missed her, even if it’s only been a week since break began. I’m so caught up staring at her
beautiful face that it takes me a second to notice she’s holding a baby. She steps closer. Stitches still mark her temple,
but they look better than before. Her red-and-green plaid dress hugs her body like a glove, accented by the matching bow in
her hair.
She kisses my cheek, smelling of sugar and pine. “This is Charlotte Callahan.”
“We’ve been calling her Charlie,” Bex adds fondly. “That nap didn’t last long, huh?”
“She wants to stay up to see Santa, obviously,” Isabelle says.
The baby is utterly adorable; she has a little mop of dark hair and bright, inquisitive eyes. She’s dressed in a onesie patterned with stars. I’ve never been around a baby in my life, much less one barely a few weeks old, so I have zero idea what to do in this situation. I settle on waving at her.
“She’s perfect, right?” Isabelle says. “She already loves her auntie.”
“Yeah,” I say, even though I’m not looking at the baby anymore. “She’s perfect.”
“Let me see if she’s hungry.” Bex carefully takes her daughter from Isabelle, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “We’re so glad
you’re here.”
The second we’re alone, Isabelle leaps into my arms. I handle her weight easily, staggering backwards just to make her laugh.
She threads her fingers through my snow-damp hair, kissing me deeply.
“Thank you,” she whispers. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” I let her down slowly, groaning as my hands curve over her ass. “How is everything?”
“You missed dinner, but Mom left a plate for you, if you’re still hungry.” She smooths the collar of my dark green sweater.
I wore a suit to Grandfather’s party, but changed into more casual clothes before leaving the city. She frowns. “Although
now that I think of it, it’s mostly sweet stuff. You won’t like it.”
“That’s okay. I should talk to Cooper first.”
“Yeah?”
I play with her bow. “You’re right, we need to talk.”
Even if the thought makes my entire body tense. I acted like an asshole outside the hospital, trying to bait Cooper into taking
a swing at me. I’m loath to admit it, but I’m glad he had the cooler head. I doubt Isabelle would have kissed me like that
just now if I had brawled with her brother in a parking lot. Regardless of my guilt over my role in her injury, it would have
been a step too far.
She searches my eyes, nodding at whatever she sees in them.
“He’s in the den.”
The Christmas tree in the front of the house looked professionally decorated, a magazine piece rather than a feature of a
real home, but the one in the den is perfectly imperfect. It’s smaller and spotty in places, but the strands of colorful lights,
homemade ornaments, and what has to be an entire package of tinsel make it all the more appealing. Antique Christmas knickknacks
cover the mantel above the crackling fireplace. The rug spread across the wooden floor is faded and worn, and the furniture
doesn’t quite match. There are family photos everywhere, as well as a wall of books and old-fashioned DVDs. This room is different
from the other glimpses I’ve caught of the house so far. It’s private. Warm and inviting and very much family-only.
I pick up the nearest photograph. A little girl with dark hair who must be Isabelle beams at the camera, flanked by three
boys. They’re on a beach, waterlogged and in the middle of working on a sandcastle.
I give the picture a smile as I set it back on the shelf.
“Outer Banks,” Cooper says from his spot in front of the fire. “We went every summer as kids.”
“You look very concerned about the structural integrity of your sandcastle.”
He looks over. He’s wearing a sweater with a snowman on it, a bit of whimsy that doesn’t match the serious expression on his
face. He stands, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I expected you sooner.”
“My grandfather wasn’t thrilled that I left.”
“I’m sure Isabelle is happy to see you.”
“She is my girlfriend,” I say, mostly because I can. But Cooper doesn’t give me the satisfaction of scowling. “What, no objections?”
“No,” he says shortly. “Like I told you before, I know she cares about you.”
“But you wish this wasn’t happening.”
“You gonna keep putting words in my mouth?” He prowls in my direction. “You’ve always been good at it, I’ll give you that.”
“If you’ve missed my chirps, just say so.” I lean against the bookcase, crossing my ankles, and smile. “Happy to oblige.”
His jaw twitches. “You can be such a prick.”
“For sneaking around with your sister?”
“I’m not my sister’s keeper and you know it.”
“Then what?” I tilt my head to the side. I know I should be slowing things down, but I can’t help it. Maybe it’s my own self-loathing,
or the guilt I can’t shake. Maybe it’s just the fact that Isabelle deserves better, even if no one is saying it. My voice
gets stronger. “For letting her get hurt? For trying to get you to take a swing at me?”
“No,” he says, his voice louder now. “Although that was a dick move. I’m fucking pissed that you—”
“Both of you, shut the fuck up.” A man strides into the room, blue eyes ablaze. He looks a little older than us; he must be
the eldest Callahan sibling, James. “You want to yell, fine, but do it outside, because my wife is trying to put our daughter
down so she won’t scream all night, I’m running on two hours of sleep, and I have to play the Cowboys next game.”
Cooper and I freeze. James shoves us in the direction of the sliding doors banked across one wall. “Go. Now. Have your pissing
match, because you need to get over this, but do it where you won’t disturb the rest of the goddamn house.”
He slides open the door, letting in a rush of cold air, and pushes us onto a snow-covered porch. Behind him, the family is gather ing in the den, even Coach Ryder and his partner. Fantastic. Isabelle hurries to her brother, saying something to him, but he just responds by locking us outside.
Extra fantastic. I slip on ice and struggle to right myself. My socks are already soaked through, and the only solace I have
is that Cooper isn’t wearing shoes either. If I freeze to death, at least he’s coming with me. He gives me a glare that could
melt the snow around us.
“Great fucking job.”
“He’s your brother,” I shoot back. “And you were the one yelling.”
“Because you keep trying to bait me.” He swipes his hand through his hair. “And anyway, you’re the one who lied.”
My heart sinks. “Cooper—”
“I don’t care that you’re together, Abney. I really don’t.”
I search his expression, but I can tell he’s being honest. The weight on my chest lightens, despite the emotions running through
me. “At the beginning of the season—I thought you hated me.”
“Hated you?” he scoffs. “I thought you could be too much of an instigator, and a bit dirty sometimes, but I never hated you.
If anything, I was jealous.”
“What?”
He shrugs. “You’re better than me.”
“You’re talented too, man.” I shake my head, shivering. My feet are going numb. “Why’d you warn me away from Isabelle, then?”
“I was trying to protect her from a guy I figured wouldn’t be serious.” His mouth twists; he barks out a laugh. “Didn’t matter,
obviously.”
“It’s...” I hesitate. “It’s always been different with her.”
“She told me everything. Listen—I’m sorry for what I said at the hospital.”
“And I’m sorry I tried to goad you into fighting me.”
He reaches over for a handful of snow from a nearby table, packing it into a ball. “Like I said, I won’t hurt someone my sister cares about.”
He throws the snowball. I don’t duck in time; it hits me in the face. Cold bursts across my senses.
I brush away the snow with a grimace. “Seriously?”
“Didn’t say anything about snowball fights.” I think I catch a hint of amusement in his eyes, but it’s gone in a blink. He
packs another snowball. “You lied to my face for months. I’m your teammate, and I thought we were becoming friends, too. And
yet you were lying to me.”
“We were both lying.” I spy a snow-covered bench and scoot towards it, careful not to fall on my ass. Cooper’s next snowball
hits my shoulder as I pack one of my own. “And not just to you.” I throw the snowball. He twists, but it still hits him in
the chest. I work to make another, swiping my half-frozen tongue over my lips. “And we are friends.”
“I don’t know, are we?”
“Yes,” I grind out as yet another snowball hits me. My next one smacks him in the face, to my satisfaction. “We’re friends.
We’re about to die out here together because your brother is a psychopath, I’d say that makes us fucking friends.”
“Good,” he snaps.
“Great,” I shoot back.
“Get inside before you both freeze to death!” Isabelle shouts from the doorway.
“I’m sorry,” I say, finally. I inch closer to him, gritting my teeth against a particularly chilly gust of wind. “I’m not
sorry about being with her, but I’m sorry we didn’t tell you. We tried to keep our feelings at bay, but...”
“It has a way of sneaking up on you,” he finishes.
I just nod.
He meets me in the middle of the porch and pulls me into a hug. I blink in surprise, hesitating before squeezing back.
“Did you mean what you said?” he says, quietly enough no one watching through the now-open door can hear. “She doesn’t think
she’s as good as us?”
“Yeah.” I slick back my soaking wet hair. Hopefully once we’re allowed inside, Isabelle can sneak me into the shower, because
this chill sure as hell won’t go away on its own. “And I’m sure it’s worse now, after what happened with her coach. She’s
amazing, but she refuses to see it.”
“She hasn’t said much about it.” He steps back, glancing at the house. “I don’t even know if she’s going to keep playing volleyball.”
“She should.” I haven’t wanted to push her on the topic, but I know she still loves the sport.
“Thank you for telling me.” He shakes his head. “That’s just not true.”
“Of course not.” I rearrange the cuffs of my sodden sweater. “She’s way better than you, you bastard.”
He laughs—a real, deep laugh that I can’t help but join in on—and claps my shoulder. “Come on, let’s play Monopoly. I’ll even
let you be the toy soldier.”
“There’s a toy soldier piece in Monopoly?” I ask as we enter the blessedly warm house.
Isabelle looks torn between kissing me and clawing my face off. I shake my wet hair at her. She sticks out her tongue as freezing
water splashes her.
“You’re so—Coop, what are you doing?”
Cooper holds out a plastic bag filled with random objects, none of which look like actual Monopoly pieces. I haven’t played
in years, but I know that much.
“Come on, man,” he says, shaking the baggie. “Best piece for you.”
Isabelle’s eyes widen. “Don’t take it, Nik.”
I glance around the room. Coach is clearly relieved that Cooper and I didn’t murder each other, and Richard actually looks
pleased, as if we passed some sort of test. James is still scowling, but he raises his hand in a two-fingered salute when
our gazes meet. Penny looks as if she wishes she could throw another snowball at Cooper’s face, and Sebastian and Mia are
clearly holding back laughter. Sandra sighs and says something about idiotic boys as she leaves the room with Ryder’s girlfriend.
I hope she’s fetching towels.
“Is it a trap?” I say.
“No,” James drawls.
“Not unless you want to be cursed,” Sebastian adds.
Cooper cocks an eyebrow. “Are you going to listen to those assholes, or me, your new best friend?”
Isabelle knocks his hand away. “Shush. We’re playing in teams again, and we’re going to crush you. Now hand over the button.”