Page 59 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

Loneliness wells in my stomach, in my brain, in my toes. I could go down to see the guys. Maybe I should. Both Nana and Harry are right—I have to seem more excited about being around them. No one’s going to want to watch the show if it’s a bunch of stiff conversations over caviar and champagne. But Harry left me with his phone, and…

The tree’s sparkle catches my eye.

Rowan’s number is on that phone.

Would it be pathetic of me to call him, when he’s made it clear that he wants to keep his distance from me and the show? I should call Olive, or maybe my brother, but I know who Iwantto call.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

ROWAN

“Why are you being so weird?” Holly asks, giving me a searching look. We’re in our house, sitting on the couch across from the bare tree—a reminder, as if I need one, of everything that went down last weekend.

“I’m not being weird,” I snap at her. Weirdly.

It’s Wednesday, and I still haven’t told anyone what Jay told me. Well, anyone except for Kennedy Littlefield, and I threw that burden on her just before ghosting her.

Yup, I’m a real catch.

I’m guessing that Jay hasn’t told anyone either because none of my sisters have asked me any leading questions about my parentage.

“You’re being super-duper weird, actually,” Holly says, her eyes calculating. “Is this about Kennedy? Or lingering psychological damage from listening to our grandmother make out with a thirty-year-old.”

My mouth automatically twists with distaste. I did tell her that much, mostly because I wanted to take the heat off myself. My sister had plenty of questions about why I was half naked in the changing room with Kennedy when everyone in my family knows I’m trying to derail her TV show. Dammit. Holly evenasked if I’d seduced Kennedy to fuck up the show, which made me feel like a real piece of shit, even though it wasn’t true.

Truth is, I didn’t put much thought into it at all. I touched her, tasted her, because I wanted to. Because I couldn’t, in those moments, think of anything else. And I can’t lie. Even though my life has been transformed by the events of the past several days, I’ve been thinking about her. My mind keeps going back to that empty pool, to the way she opened her legs to me. To the way she looked at me after I told her about Jay.

My sister’s still staring at me, though, waiting for an answer, and she’s not the patient type. “It’s not about Kennedy,” I tell her through my dry mouth. I’m not sure whether or not it’s a lie. “And I will always be disturbed by overhearing Nana making out with that asshole.”

“I don’t believe you,” she says, tapping me on the nose. I grimace at her. She rolls her eyes. “Oh, your grumpy expressions don’t faze me. If you insist you’re not acting weird, then how come you didn’t go visit Jay with us last night?”

They all went—Holly and Bryn; Willow, who drove up from Asheville and is staying with Bryn; and Ivy, who arrived from Charleston on Monday and is staying at Jay’s.

I told them I had work to do.

I hid in my room.

Willow was particularly pissed because she and I have always been so close. We’ve had the bond of knowing we had the same piece-of-shit dad, only now I know he isn’tmypiece-of-shit dad. In some ways, I fear telling Willow most of all because maybe our special bond will disintegrate.

If I told Kennedy that, Ibet she’d say that I wouldn’t treat Willow any differently if the situation were reversed, so I shouldn’t expect worse from my sister…and also that Ivy and me might get closer. Maybe she’d be right…if I could bring myself to tell either of them.

Coward.

Willow’s still in Highland Hills, but she’s leaving for Asheville later this evening. Ivy’s going to stay for a few weeks, maybe into the new year, depending on what the doctors say about Jay. After she arrived, she confirmed what I already knew from Kennedy—Kerry left, and she is not, in fact, a nice woman. I guess Jay didn’t tell anyone because he was trying to delude himself into believing she’d come back.

I can understand that. I’m all about believing unpleasant truths will go away if I avoid them well enough.

“Why don’t we talk about Oliver and Harry?” I suggest.

Holly skewers me with a suspicious look. “You never want to gossip.”

Shit, she’s right. “Well, our roommate and my best friend are going out on a date tonight. That’s a thing. It seems like the sort of thing women like to talk about.”

She snorts. “Are you asking for a matchmaking medal? Because I’m pretty sure Willow would make you one. She’s all about celebrating false accomplishments.”

“Hey,” I say, my tone turning harsh. “Don’t talk about her like that.”

She gives my shoulder a shove. “I wasn’t saying it’s a bad thing, dipstick. She’d do it because she’s way nicer than the rest of us, which most people would agree is a good thing.”

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