Page 40 of The Crush of Christmas Past
As soon as I claim the treat, he pulls his parents’ house key from his jacket pocket and gets to work, deepening the etching. I nibble a corner of the graham cracker and let myself enjoy the view. His strokes are swift and precise, quiet control threaded through every flex of his muscles.
Theo isn’t just marking the wood—he’s reworking the past. Reclaiming the initials I once carved in naive hope. Giving them weight. Permanence.
Maybe, despite all the years and distance between us, I+T can still stand for something.
The only question is…am I brave enough to find outwhat?
Fourteen
Theo
“Ican’tbelieveyoustillhaven’t told Isla you know about us!” Asher shakes his head and laughs. “Or, rather, the lack ofus.”
I don’t answer, focusing instead on clasping a bundle of sunflower seeds to a low-hanging branch in front of me.
The entire family is out here under Mom’s strict orders, decking out the trees in the woods behind our house with edible ornaments. Some are shaped like stars or hearts; others resemble mini wreaths. All are made from organic, animal-safe treats—dried berries, seeds, and nuts.
Mom calls itnurturing nature. It’s her way of making amends for the clearcut in the next town over that displaced a whole mass of furry creatures. It’s part environmental rehab,part family bonding holiday tradition. And right now? It’s a convenient distraction from letting yesterday’s outing with Isla play on a loop in my head.
Despite having spent the entire night tossing and turning, making sure Bambi and friends have enough to eat isn’t the worst way to pass a sleep-deprived morning.
My brother isn’t working hard enough because he finds ample time to gossip. “Didn’t you spend a good chunk of the scavenger hunt with her?”
“I did,” I reply.
“And…?”
“It was fine.”So very fine.
“But nothing came up?” he presses.
I shrug one shoulder. “Nope.”
Well, that’s a lie.Somethingdefinitely came up. More times than I care to admit.
It’s not like I had any control over my reaction. Each accidental brush of our bodies wound me up so tight I was seconds from combusting.
My biggest mistake? Putting my fingers on the soft, plump flesh of Isla’s bottom lip.
Twice.
I’d crossed a line. Bulldozed straight through it—by choice. A reckless, deliberate move I’d make again and again for a chance to have more of her.
All of her.Her touch. Her scent. Every single one of her smiles.
Feeding her that cupcake and watching her savor it, feeling the heat of her mouth, listening to her satisfied moans—fuck, I couldn’t stop thinking about tearing down all those boundaries I’ve erected over the years.
I even offered to kiss her, and not for a chance at a trophy.
“Why haven’tyoutold Isla that I know?” I ask Asher, my voice laced with mild annoyance.
“Oh, there’s no way I’m making this easy on you.” His smirk makes me want to throw him into a bear den. “I’ve been edged by your relationship for over six years!”
Mid-affixing an ornament, my hand halts and my face twists into a grimace. “That particular sentence should’ve never seen the light of day.”
Asher crosses his arms and leans against a thick trunk of a maple, relishing my discomfort. “Did you know I still have all your messages on one of my hard drives? I’m planning on playing them at your wedding. Like a time capsule.”
I frown. “What messages?”
