Page 45 of Mistle-Ho

It takes a couple beats for her to get it, but then she snorts, rolling her eyes. It’s as amused as she gets, and after years ofwomen fake laughing at anything I say, I soak up her honest reaction.

Then I can’t help but ask, “Is that a yes?”

Alexis shakes her head, but the exasperated look on her face tells me this is another contradictory reaction. “Fine.” She smooths one hand over the front of my shirt. “But I’m bringing a change of clothes.” Her eyes level on my face, a hint of a smile tipping her lips. “Just in case you get trigger happy.”

I let her go but flatten my palm at the small of her back to urge her in the direction of the bedroom. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

Alexis gives me an indignant look over one shoulder. “That dress was brand-new.”

I chuckle. “I guess I should have aimed for your scarf then since that thing is old as hell.”

Al’s steps come to a halt, her body stiffening the tiniest bit. Something I said was wrong, but I’m not sure how. “What’s the matter?”

Alexis peeks at me again over one shoulder, but this time she shakes her head. “Nothing.”

She’s shutting me out. It’s there in her closed-off expression. The flat line of her lips. Al’s reactions might not always be easy to read, but they do give her up eventually. Some faster than others.

This time they outed her at record speed.

I move toward her, not willing to accept her words. “Tell me.” It seems like Alexis likes to withhold information—like how she had a crush on me—and I don’t want secrets between us.

I don’t know if I could handle it.

She blows out a dramatic sigh, eyes lifting to the ceiling. “Fine.”

She crosses her arms in a way some people might read as irritation, but the hint of vulnerability that flashes across her face reveals the truth.

“My Grandma Dorothy made me that scarf.” She scowls at me. “So you better keep your fluids away from it.”

21

Confession Equals Connection

Alexis

I DON’T TALK about my Grandma Dot very much. Not because I didn’t love her—I worshiped her.

I don’t talk about her because she’s gone and I will never get another memory with her, so I guard them. Keep them to myself. For myself. But I’ve accidentally opened that can worms and Gavin doesn’t seem interested in letting me snap the lid back in place.

He gives me a slow nod. “Yeah, I’m going to go ahead and agree that is the plan of action we should take, because Granny D would come back to life and murder me for daring to deface something she made you.”

My throat goes tight when Gavin says the nickname he gave her. She pretended like she hated it, but I knew the truth. My grandma always had a soft spot for him. I can’t blame her. She and I were so much alike, and it seems our fondness for giant goofy rugby players is yet another similarity between us.

Gavin reaches up, sliding his fingers through my hair as he pushes it behind my shoulders. “Did you know Granny D is the reason I can cook?” His lips curve into a tender smile. “My parents were wrapped up in their own shit, so I was on my ownin a lot of ways. When your grandma found out about the home ec fire incident, she made it her personal mission to teach me.”

I hold my breath as he continues offering me the most precious gift anyone’s ever given me. More of the woman I loved with my entire heart.

“I went over there once a week my whole junior year, and she taught me how to make all kinds of shit.” His voice softens as he studies my face. “She was fucking awesome.”

I nod, swallowing hard around the lump in my throat. “She was.”

Grandma Dot was the only person who ever really understood me. She never expected me to be more than I was. Never got confused when I didn’t react to things a certain way or enjoy certain activities. That’s probably because she was just like me, or I was just like her. We were two peas in an introverted pod surrounded by a loud, outgoing family.

Gavin’s eyes move over my face, one thumb coming to swipe at a tear I didn’t notice had dropped free. “You should come home with me, Al.” His voice is soft and tender. “I’ve got something I think you’ll want to see.”

This time I agree easily. Not because I want to see whatever it is Gavin wants to show me, but because for the first time in a long time, I feel understood. Appreciated.

Safe.

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