Page 106 of The Mistletoe Makeover

“I’ll be right there.” I grab my keys, beelining for the back entrance. “Will you tell her I’m on my way?”

“That will just make her run,” Jaz says. “I’ll tell her we’re coming.”

I frown. “Why would you do that?”

“Because she’ll wait for us,” Jaz says, her lips curling into a smile “And then she’ll get the surprise of a lifetime.”

TWENTY-FIVE

Mia

For the second time this winter, I’m stuck in the snow. It feels just likeGroundhog Day.How lucky can one person get? Apparently,verylucky.

I check the time again. At this rate, I’m barely going to make my plane, and that’s only if my flight hasn’t already been delayed.

But I’m not going back to Jace’s house. I don’t want to face the memories—how it felt to see him bringing me coffee or think about how he agreed to kiss me for the first time and made every part of me come alive. When he slipped his hand across my cheek, then my neck, the slow graze of his lips over me like it meant something, makes me nearly buckle inside.

Because you don’t fall for someone like Jace and forget it in a day, or a week, or even a lifetime.

My heart might never recover from this. And yet I’m the stupid one who fell hard and fast.

He dared me to be happy, and I dared to fall for him.

Why is it the things that make us happy are the same things that can crush us? I’ve seen what love has done to my mother, the way she cried in the shower after she thought I was in bed, the heaving sobs escaping her lungs until she couldn’t breathe, her face a splotchy mess of red-rimmed eyes and mascara streaks.

When I asked why Dad left, Mom’s response was barely audible:Because he wasn’t happy.Whatever happiness deal my parents made, my dad reneged on it.

When we risk loving someone, maybe the expectation shouldn’t be happiness all the time. Because isn’t real love daring to say yes and sticking around even when life gets messy? Maybe that’s when you find something better than happiness—in the commitment that comes when you say yes to the other person, no matter how messy life is.

For years, I’ve rolled this around in my head like a marble I can’t corner.Maybe happiness is just as much a dream as love.

Lights flash in my rearview mirror as a car slows behind me, then grinds to a halt on the shoulder. The driver leaves their lights on, blinding my view.

A silhouette flashes behind me before someone taps on my window. When I glance up, my throat catches. I’d know that bearded jaw and tousled hair anywhere.

“Jace?” I roll down my window. “What are you doing here?”

“Your friends told me what happened.”

I can’t read his face, whether he’s annoyed about coming to my rescue or amused that I’m stuck like before.

“Where’s Jaz?” I ask.

“She sent me.”

“You didn’t have to save me,” I say, rubbing my numb fingers together. “I could’ve called my brothers.”

“And missed an opportunity to rescue you from the snow again? Not a chance.” His eyes drop to my hands.

I forgot my gloves again.

“Climb into my car. You’re freezing.”

“I’m not freezing,” I argue.

“Is that why you can’t stop shaking?”

I hesitate, wanting to fight against his kindness. There’s too much history between us. If I get into his car, I don’t know where this will lead. It won’t take him long to see it in my face.I only want him.

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