Page 50 of Still Beating

It’s a sweater.

I also force a smile.

When one of the little cousins tears through a gift bag and pulls out a police officer costume, he jumps up and down with excitement. He keeps digging through the tissue paper and shouts, “Cool! Handcuffs!”

My stomach pitches and my gaze settles on Cora, who starts scratching at her wrist and fidgeting in her chair. Her eyes dance over to me, but only for a moment before she excuses herself from the festivities and disappears up the staircase.

Shit.

I wait a few minutes until it doesn’t look obvious that I’m following her, then I announce to Mandy that I need to use the bathroom. But Mandy is too absorbed in a conversation with her aunt about weighted blankets, so my escape goes unnoticed.

I find Cora in the same place I found her the night of our reunion—sitting on the edge of the guest bed in her childhood room, squeezing the covers between her fists. She notices my presence before I speak, and I wonder if she anticipated me following her up here.

“I’m fine, Dean.”

I click my teeth together as I stand in the doorway, noting how she doesn’t look up at me. I decide to approach, stepping into the bedroom and closing the door behind me. The sound makes her flinch. “Merry Christmas,” I say in a low voice.

I can almost feel some of the tension leave her as I sit down beside her on the bed, the mattress sinking beneath my weight. Cora finally glances up at me, finding my eyes with a tiny frown. “You smell like vodka and Skittles.”

A grin pulls on my lips. “You didn’t try the punch?”

“No. But I can see that you did.” She assesses me up and down, as if the stripes on my shirt will give away the number of glasses I’ve inhaled over the past two hours. “Be careful. You look like a hot mess.”

I run a hand through my mop of brown hair, noting that the top two buttons of my dress shirt are unhooked and only one sleeve is rolled up past my elbow. I think Mandy made me wear a Santa bowtie, but I have no idea where that went. “You look sad,” I counter, taking in her vacant eyes that are missing the sparkle I’ve come to love so much.

“I said I’m fine.”

“Well, maybe I can help you be more than fine.” I nudge her shoulder with my own. “I sorta got you a Christmas present.”

Those eyes widen in surprise, her lips parting, pink and glossy. “What? Why?”

“Because you got me something last year. It’s my turn.”

Cora lowers her chin to her chest, picking at the threads on the comforter. “I didn’t do much shopping this year, so I didn’t get you anything. I feel like a jerk.”

“It’s okay. One of these years the stars will align, and we’ll both get each other something at the same time.”

She nibbles on her lip. My gaze drifts to her mouth on instinct before I redirect it back up, suddenly very aware of the way her bare thigh is smashed up against my slacks. I should probably scoot away, but the alcohol keeps me rooted in place.

I reach into my pocket and pull out a small box. “The wrapping isn’t as good as yours. Don’t judge.”

“I always judge.” Cora finally allows a smile to slip as she takes the gift from my hand. “Well, it’s too small to be an embarrassing holiday vibrator, at least.”

“Is it, though?”

She laughs. She fucking laughs and it’s the best gift ever.

“Is something going to jump out at me?” she questions, twisting the box between her hands as she studies it over her lap. “Does it bite?”

“No and no.”

Cora doesn’t look convinced, but she begins to peel away the paper, corner by corner, with careful fingers. When she pulls the top off the little white box, her breath catches as she stares down into the cotton stuffing. She’s staring at the gift inside, but I’m staring at her. I’m watching the emotions climb up her chest, then her neck, landing in her throat and releasing with a squeaky sigh. Her red-tipped fingers graze the heart pendant attached to a gold chain.

“It’s beautiful, Dean. It’s… too much.” Cora glances up at me with misted eyes, then looks back down at the necklace. She removes it from the box, letting the delicate chain dance over her fingers as she holds it up and gazes at the gilded heart.

“Open it. It’s a locket.”

Cora blinks, surprised. I can see her fingers tremble as she unclasps the two pieces of gold and fixes her eyes to the inner contents.

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