Page 53 of Knot Sharing the Ice

Jayce looks like he wants to say something that would result in me shoving more pie down his throat to keep his mouth shut, but whatever has his eyes glinting with mischief, he keeps to himself.

As the evening winds down and we say our goodbyes, I find myself feeling lighter than I have in ages. Despite my worries, and despite Jayce's near-slips—which I'm starting to think he's doing on purpose, just to keep me on my toes—this is the best Christmas dinner I've ever had.

Having them here, watching them interact with my family, seeing them fit so seamlessly into my world.

It feels right.

Like pieces of a puzzle finally clicking into place.

And maybe soon, I'll figure out exactly what that means to me. And then, maybe I'll be ready to tell everyone exactly how well they fit.

But for now, this is enough.

This is perfect.

Chapter

Eighteen

EMBER

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee pulls me from sleep, mingling with the scent of pine and cinnamon that's permeated the house since Dad insisted on putting the tree up the day after Thanksgiving. For a moment, I'm disoriented, my body expecting the firm mattress of my apartment in Sterling City instead of the soft give of my childhood bed.

Reality crashes back as excited squeals drift up from downstairs, followed by the telltale sound of wrapping paper being shredded.

Christmas morning.

The day of the big festival in town.

I groan, burying my face in my pillow.

The memory of last night floods back.

Saying goodbye to the guys after a perfectly normal dinner where we somehow didn't let anything slip, watching them pile into Carter's SUV and drive away. The ache in my chest as their scents faded, leaving me feeling oddly bereft.

"Stop it," I mutter to myself, throwing off the covers. "You're being ridiculous."

But as I pad downstairs, following the siren call of caffeine, I can't shake the feeling that something's missing.

ThatI'mmissing something.

The living room is chaos incarnate. My niece and nephew are tearing into presents with wild abandon, squealing with delight at each new toy revealed. Mom and Dad are curled up on the couch, matching Santa hats perched jauntily on their heads as they watch the carnage unfold. Matt is filming the kids' joy on the brand new camera Taylor must have given him as a gift, considering there's still a big red bow attached to the box on the table.

And Taylor...

"There you are, sleepyhead," my sister says, materializing at my elbow with a steaming mug of coffee. "I was about to send a search party."

I accept the mug gratefully, inhaling the rich aroma. "My hero," I mumble, taking a long sip.

Taylor grins, linking her arm through mine and steering me toward the kitchen. "Come on, let's let the kids have their fun. I want to hear all about last night."

I let her lead me away, grateful for the relative quiet of the kitchen. We settle at the breakfast nook, and I cradle my mug close, savoring its warmth.

"So," Taylor says, her eyes sparkling with barely contained excitement. "Spill. How did it go?"

I take another sip of coffee, buying myself time.

How do I even begin to explain last night?

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