“It wasn’t that bad,” Cara says, giving me a helpless look.
“Heghostedyou,” Hannah says. She gestures to her friend. “Can you imagine kissing this girl and then immediately deleting your account?”
Emily’s mouth drops open. “No.”
Heath looks at me.
Wyatt looks at Heath, and then, understanding dawning, looks at me with sheer, unadulterated delight. “Really?”
Hannah doesn’t notice her uncle’s reaction because she’s deep into storytelling mode now, relaying to Emily what I did, without any awareness that the “giant idiot” she’s talking about is the same guy who made her pancakes this morning.
While dressed as a fucking candy cane.
Time to move the festivities along. “We should open some presents,” I say loudly.
“That’s a great idea,” Cara agrees. She holds my gaze long enough to convey thatshe’snot mad at that giant idiot anymore,and then she’s whisked to the library by Emily and Hannah.
Heath comes up on my right side.
Wyatt comes up on my left.
“So,” Heath says.
“Those woman troubles you’re having,” Wyatt adds.
“Are none of your business,” I say.
Wyatt doesn’t agree with me at all. He keeps going. “Did you know she was classmates with Hannah?”
“Of course not,” I bite out.
Which is all the admission the two of them need.
Heath grins.
Wyatt cackles.
“We’re working it out,” I mutter. “And there’s a present in that pile for her that might make Hannah lose her shit, so I’d appreciate if you two assholes could have my back when it comes time.”
“Of course we will,” Heath says sagely.
“After we let a few fireworks fly,” Wyatt says honestly.
Iwouldn’t expect anything less.
It takestwo hours to open all the presents.
Two hours of exchanging too brief glances with Cara. Two hours of keeping my hands to myself.
I didn’t mean for her gift to be the literal last one pulled out from under the tree, but that’s how it worked out.
Hannah takes a look at the name on the tag and hands it to her. “This one is for you, Cara. It’s from my dad.”
My heart in my throat, I watch as Cara nervously takes it from her. I didn’t have a lot of options at five in the morning, but I did my best and scoured my den for something that would show her that she has been on my mind all week.
She slides the ribbon free, then rips off the paper, revealing a thick black frame. “What is this?”
Hannah scoots closer to her. “That’s…you. My dad drew you.”