I look at him and see the earnestness in his blue eyes. “I’m not,” I start then drop my head, not having it in me to lie. “It’s pathetic, I know.”
Lane’s hand is gentle as he places it on my chin and lifts my face to his.
“It’s not pathetic, we can’t help who we fall in love with, that’s not how it works. What we can control is how we deal with it. Pining after him is only going to get you hurt.”
My chest aches at the truth in his words but not because the pining hurts but because this distance I’m creating to stop the pining is so fucking unbearable.
“I’m trying, I’m keeping my distance. Willing my stupid heart to remember he likes me as a friend and nothing more.”
“And is it working?” Lane drops his hand from my chin and rests it on my shoulder. I like the pressure of it there, but his touch is so unlike Dalton’s; it's how a friend's touch should feel.
“Not yet, right now the chasm I’ve created just hurts.”
“Have you considered talking to him?” I scoff as though that is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. “And why now? I can hazard a guess you’ve loved him for along time, so why are you pushing him away now?”
It’s a good question and I give him the answer, telling him about the dare and about how Dalton’s words had cemented the realisation that he could never see me as more than his bestie. Or like a brother.
“Ouch, okay, I can see why. But really Ash, Dalton loves you - even if it’s not in the way you wish, so talk to him. I have no doubt he would understand and it has to be better than making yourself miserable.”
I nod but more as a reflex then as an agreement to his suggestion. “I’m not sure he’s even noticed. He’s happy, look at him out there with Suz.” I wave a hand in the direction of the lounge where we can still hear the dull sounds of laughter.
“I can guarantee you, my sister is not interested in Dalton in that way even if she may have been before. And Ash, don’t be so sure that he hasn’t noticed. Do me a favour and think about it, okay? Think about talking to him.”
I nod again and sip from my now lukewarm hot chocolate, grimacing at the filmy skin on the top.
Lane pats my shoulder and goes to move away before I stop him. “What happened with your friend?” He smiles but it’s weak, barely a lift to his lips.
“That’s a story for another day.”
Chapter 7
Dalton
He's pulling away from me, I know it. I can feel the rip. The universe stitched us together all those years ago and now the stitches are breaking. One at a time, they’re unravelling and it hurts, so fucking much.
We've been in Austria for four days and in those four days Asher has done everything he can to be where I'm not. He spends more time with Lane than with me, he won't hold my hand, won't smile at my jokes.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch him as he stretches his legs out onto the table in front of him, his focus on the book he has open on his lap. I’m locked in an intense game ofCluedojust about ready to make my call but certain my father will beat me to it. The storm outside has picked up and the wind howls around us, while the fire roars inside keeping us toasty. Clem and Cordelia are listening to Christmas tunes, singing along and making up dances to their favourites while Suz has the task of filming their theatrics. Asher doesn’t look up at me as he turns the page. I wonder what he’s reading as I take in his pursed lips and frown lines, but I can’t make out the cover from here. Usually, he tells me all about the books that have caught his interest but, he’s barely spoken to me since we arrived.
As expected, my dad reaches the library and makes his call, declaring it was Col. Mustard in the library with a lead pipe and he cheers when Mum pulls out the hidden cards to confirm he was right and the game is won. I help tidy up then get pulled into a conversation with Suzie and Lane’s mum, while she scrolls through her phoneshowing me photos of their life back in Australia.
I feel eyes on me, and turn to find Asher watching me, his book upside down on his lap but he turns away as soon as our eyes meet. I’m called back to Mrs York as she laughs at the photo in front of her.
“Oh gosh! Look at this one, I forgot it came up in my photo memories recently.” It’s a photo of Suzie and I when we were six, in which we’re dressed up smartly for a function. Suzie looks pissed off and is pulling at the braid in her hair while I am wiping my nose on my waistcoat. Who puts a six year old in a waistcoat? “This was taken at our neighbour, Janet's wedding. You two looked adorable. You were inseparable back then. We used to joke about planning your own wedding one day, that by the time you were this age you’d be married with kids!” Suzie’s mum laughs but my focus is caught on Asher who has dropped his book and is now standing.
“I’m going to get some firewood.” He gestures towards the fire before dashing out of the room. I want to follow because it’s stormy outside and he shouldn’t go alone but Suzie’s voice stops me when she scolds her mother. This has long since been a joke in their family - one I have always brushed off, having never felt anything more than friendship for Suz - and right now, she looks really frustrated.
“Mum! We were six! Please drop it now.”
Lane smirks at his sister. “Not sure Suzie’s girlfriend would like the idea of her marrying Dalton.”
Their dad makes a noise of agreement and my eyes ping pong between them as they bicker.
“Oh hush, the three of you. It was just a comment. Suzie, you know we love Charli. I won’t mention it again, I didn’t mean to upset anyone.” Suzie nods and it seems all is forgiven as her dad sets up a game ofMonopolyand Clem and Cordelia run upstairs. My mum disappears into the kitchen and I can hear the kettle boiling.
After five minutes with no sign of Asher's return, my skin is starting to itch and my legs feel restless. I jump up, unable to stand the unease churning in my gut while I look at the worsening storm outside and still no Asher.
Grabbing my coat, I rush outside and am met with blasting cold air that bites my cheeks and makes me wish I’d put on gloves. The woodshed is only a few metres to the side of the house and I’m there in a few minutes, my head bent down against the wind but there’s no Asher. Squinting against the snow blowing into my face, I can vaguely make out a silhouette near the treeline and I run over as fast as the snow around my feet will allow. I reach the figure moments later and relief tears through me when I see it’s Asher. He startles when I grab his shoulder and turns towards me. His eyes are wetand his nose is red. He needs to get out of the cold.