Page 261 of Accidentally Under Your Tree

It was the biggest understatement. As if the pull between the two of us was because of how fresh it was.

What if it is?I swallowed, ignoring that nagging voice.

"Fine." She pointed toward the buffet table. "You hungry? The charcuterie board is my romantic interest tonight."

I grinned, grateful she'd let me off the hook for now. "Food would be great. We went to Emmett's today, and I kinda forgot to eat."

"Mm," she took a step, her heeled boot clipping on the floor, "how's my future husband doing?"

I scoffed. The list of men she planned to marry was long—not as long as the list of men she'd rather never see again. But my beloved cousin was not her one true love or anything.

I glanced around, ensuring that we were the only two people near the food table. "He's annoyingly observant."

"He saw through the whole thing?"

"Maybe." Perusing the spread of cured meats, fruits, and crackers, I grabbed a plate from the stack. "I think I smoothed it over for them, though."

"That must be weird, with how you feel abouthim."

"It's no big deal."

"Right," she said, the word dripping with sarcasm. Her focus moved past my shoulder, and she groaned. "Will you excuse me? I need to remind Lawrence to blink when he stares at your sister."

It didn't take me long to spot Lawrence sitting on a bar stool, with one boot propped on the rung. He was amongst his socializing coworkers. But his eyes were, in fact, trained across the room where Rose stood with Will at her side.

The longing etched into Lawrence's features—his covetous gaze, the tight set of his jaw, the pinch between his eyebrows—felt like he'd held up a mirror for me to peer into.

It had always scared me how consumed Rose and Lawrence were with one another. My emotions for Will were stronger than I'd felt for anyone else. I had to believe that we could be different. We could burn without exploding, without decimating ourselves and singeing everyone around us.

seventeen

Lizzy

Four nights before Christmas

Even if the white wine glass in Mom's hand wasn't there, I would have been able to tell she had drank a couple by the pink in her cheeks. The sour smell of it was on her breath as she gave me a one-armed hug. Lowering to the metal chair next to me, she crossed her legs. "Hi, baby."

"Hi, Mom." I gestured to the room with a chocolate-covered strawberry. "You transformed the KC Hall, yet again."

She lifted her chin. "It's a skill."

"It really is. Having fun?"

"I always have such a good time at these parties." A couple of her words slurred together. It didn't happen often, but she was a sloppy and happy drunk. "What about you?"

"I haven't been here that long, and I'm driving, so I'll probably keep it to one drink." I pointed to my half full white wine.

"Your dad and I can give you a ride home."

"If that ice storm rolls in early tomorrow, I don't want my car stuck here."

"Oh baby, it's not coming for another 48-hours. And who cares if your car is here? It's no big deal."

"They'll have to plow the parking lot. I don't want it to get buried."

She stacked a cracker with Parmesan cheese and salami from my plate. "You worry too much."

"You're right, I'll just stop that."

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