Page 24 of This December

“Oh my god. That’s amazing. Such a better meet-cute than mine with Myles. I mean, he literally picked me up in a bar.”

“Pretty sure it’s not literal when he hit on you in a bar.”

“No, I mean he literally picked me up. I stepped in front of him at a bar because it didn’t look like he was waiting to order; there was like five feet between him and the bar, and he wasn’t even trying to get the bartender’s attention. He tapped on my shoulder, but I ignored him because I didn’t know it was him—I thought it was a creeper. So he grabbed me around the waist, picked me up, and moved me over.”

“Myles did that? No way!” I looked over into the living room where M & M & M were all watching football. Myles looked so mild-mannered. I mean he was a bigger guy, but he’d always been the soft-spoken giant around me.

“Yeah.” This soft, loving expression spread over my sister’s face as she looked over at her husband. “We kinda got into a shouting match and both got kicked out of the bar. Once I calmed down, I apologized and offered to buy him a drink at a different bar, and that was it.”

“And you lived happily ever after.” I grinned at my sister. “I don’t know. Sounds like a great meet-cute to me. And hella hot! I mean, he picked you up. Wow. Why didn’t you ever tell me that story before?”

“I didn’t want you to get the wrong impression of Myles. And with the way everyone always fawns over Matt…”

I groaned. “Say no more. I get it. He’s a hard act to follow.”

“That’s probably why Michael never really tried.”

We turned to look at Belle’s husband who had always been kinda withdrawn and quiet. Although it was usually hard to get a word in edgewise with this crew, as evidenced by the current volume in the kitchen. Kids yelling. Christmas music vying with the football game in the other room. Adults trying to talk over it all.

Insanity. Just the way my mom liked it.

“But the great and powerful Matt has been unseated,” Chrissy declared, raising her eyebrows over her wineglass at me. “Look at her over there fawning over Cole Jackson. She’s so blatant.”

I giggled as we watched Mom pat Cole’s arm before pointing the toothpicks out to use for decorating. I shook my head. “But could you please stop full naming him? It’s hella awkward.”

“It’s hard to think of him as a regular guy. He’s not just Cole—he’s Cole Jackson, Music Icon.” She said the last in a dramatic voice, using one hand to gesture like she was underlining a billboard.

“Oh please.” Cole groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Please don’t tell me you all watched that horrible exposé?”

Everyone’s eyes swung from Cole to Chrissy who was currently turning a shade of red darker than her wine glass.

I had to bite my cheek to keep the laughter inside. After a beat, I leaned into her and whispered, “See? It’s awkward. He’s just Cole. Stop making it weird.”

But I lost the fight and was giggling when I walked toward the island to start decorating cookies with the littles.

“She gonna be okay?” Cole asked, giving Chrissy a sidelong look.

I shrugged. “Maybe once she gets over being starstruck. Like someone else I know.”

Cole fought his own smile while Mom beamed down at both of us, completely oblivious.

* * *

A while later, after cookies and pizza and more cookies, I slipped away from everyone to grab a few things from my room. I pulled a small duffle bag down from my closet and was opening my t-shirt drawer when I heard a floorboard creak behind me.

I looked up and smiled at Cole lurking in the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets, as he took in all of my high school décor still on the walls. I raised my eyebrows. “So how does it feel?”

“How does what feel?” He entered the room to stand next to my bed, peering into the bag I had out on the bed.

“Being the favorite in the James family?”

He gave me a droll look then shrugged. “I’m used to it. I’m the favorite in my family too.”

“I’m sure your brother is heartbroken.”

“Nah, he’s a tough SOB, but then you have to be to do what he does.”

I nodded, thinking back to when he’d told me his brother served in the military. “What branch is he in again?”

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