Page 8 of The Crush of Christmas Past
Or so I told myself. Over and over again.
“I’m happy for you two,” I say through gritted teeth. “Truly.”
“We’ll see about that.” Asher claps me on the back, but the move isn’t meant to be reassuring.
No.
It’s a taunt.
“There’s nothing to see!” I call after him as he saunters toward the house.
I don’t want toseeanything, but my mind refuses to listen. It floods with images of Isla and Asher, tangled together in ways that twist my gut.
The graphic scenes will undoubtedly haunt my nightmares tonight.
Four
Isla
“Whatalovelysurprise!”Evangeline draws me into a tight hug that smells like melted sugar, crisp spruce, and warm dough. It’s her signature scent of the season, courtesy of the baking, decorating, and hosting frenzy she passionately undertakes this time of year. “Though, I must admit,” she adds with a wink, “I’ve had a dream or two about you and my Ash.”
“And made nine or ten vision boards about your future!” Willow chimes in with a laugh. A few inches taller than my five-five frame, she beams down at me with a wide, mischievous grin so very reminiscent of Asher’s.
Sporting a gold sequin sweater that shimmers in the glow of the tree, she could easily pass as part of the decor. Her blondehair is piled in a loose bun on top of her head with a few stray tendrils framing her heart-shaped face.
When my gaze lands on the glass in her hand, she gives the fruity concoction a little swirl. “Mom’s new recipe. Frosty Fizz.”
“Pun intended,” Evangeline adds, and they burst into giggles.
As I laugh along with them, warmth envelops me in a sensation that can only be described aspeace.
The real, rare kind.
These two women have always owned pieces of my heart.Chunksof it, actually.
Evangeline carried me through the pain of loss, helping me find slivers of light even in the deepest dark. More importantly, she’s the reason therapy remains a constant in my life.
Willow, on the other hand, is the little sister I wished for on every shooting star.
I sample her cocktail, the cool sparkle of bubbles tickling my tongue. “So good,” I say, handing it back. “But I’ll pass on my own before dinner or I’llactuallypass out on you. We had a long, bumpy drive in. I’m exhausted.”
“No naps allowed,” Willow warns, snatching away the drink. “Not before I get all the details on your love affair with my brother.”
“Asher?” I drag out his name, buying a few seconds to summon the emotions I’m supposed to be peddling.
She arches an eyebrow. “Is there another brother we should be discussing instead?”
“No!”Hellno. “Yeah, so…Ash and I…”
I desperately scan the room for words that will keep me from committing treason.
Too much of it, anyway.
“We’re a…thing.”
“Friends-to-lovers and diapers-to-dates, huh?” Willow refuses to let me off the hook. “How’sthatfor a transition?” Her voice is light and teasing, but it’s plain to see she’s digging for dirt.
“Good. Great. It’s…uhh…great.” Cheeks burning, I fight the urge to swipe her ice-filled glass and press it against my skin.
