Page 161 of Accidentally Under Your Tree

My palms ran over the soft wool of my ugly Christmas sweater. Shay had made it required attire for the office party—considering I'd just walked past a man with the words 'I'd Rather be Wearing a Welding Mask' knitted across his chest, I thought she was on to something.

Just like at home and the shop, Mom had pulled no punches on the decorating. Unlike home, she'd skipped the traditional cozy feel and gone for a 70s look. Complete with a white tree decked in red garland and lights with shiny silver bulbs. The only green in the banquet hall was on the sweaters worn by the attendees. The room was lit in technicolor from the twinkle lights blanketing the drop ceiling. In the corner, perfectly wrapped presents were topped with extravagant bows. She'd even constructed a temporary fireplace with a television playing a burning log mounted inside of it. Another TV hung above the bar playingPrancer. Mom always claimed it was mine and Rose's favorite, but it didn’t explain her obsession with the movie.

I rolled my eyes as affection warmed my chest. At least Mom still loved her work.

My gaze tugged to my left, landing on Will, as if compelled. Was it possible that I'd felt the pull of his eyes on me? That from across a dark room full of people, I'd been drawn to the heat of his stare?

Everyone else faded, the music quieted, until it was just us.

It was a pale comparison to the greeting I wanted—this prolonged eye contact. My heart swelled and broke all at once. In a few days he'd leave, and I wouldn't have to resist my feelings any longer. But in it's place would be his absence.

I wasn't sure which was worse.

"Hey girl." Shay bumped me with her elbow, popping the bubble.

I blinked, my mouth hanging open, gathering myself. "Uh, hi."

She took in Will standing next to Rose, his arm wrapped around her waist. My cheeks burned.

Apprehension filled the dark pools of Shay's eyes, and something else that looked a lot like pity. "You're still about that? Even with all the red flags?"

"There are a lot of green flags, too." There was no denying my argument was pathetic.

She pursed her lips.

"I know you don't like it," I said.

"No, I don't."

I tugged on the neck of my sweater, feeling entirely too hot. "There's just something there. It's…new to me."

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.

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