Page 30 of That Time We Kissed Under the Mistletoe
Man, you are in soooo much trouble.
“Just go inside out of the cold,” I say, stuffing my gloved hands into my pockets. “Don’t worry about me.”
“I have to worry, though. You’re my responsibility.”
“Yeah.” I grunt. “And whose fault is that?”
“Okay, fine!” she blurts. “You win. We can build a snowman. But I’ll need to put on more layers if we’re staying outside.”
“We don’t have to?—
“No.” She throws up her hands. “This is what you wanted, Three. And your wish is my command.” She points at a tree stump covered with an inch of snow. “Just sit there so I know you’re safe while I’m gone.”
“But—”
“I’ll be right back.”
Before I can offer up any further protest, she turns her back on me and heads inside. So I shuffle over to the stump, brushing off the snow to take a seat. I’ve never seen Sara dressed for the snow before. At least not in person. Sure, I probably caught a picture of her in the winter years ago. But until yesterday, I’d only imagined her in summer clothes. Mostly I tried not to imagine her at all.
Within minutes, though, she’s bursting back out onto the porch, yanking up the zipper of a white jacket. “Phew! I feel better already!”
Her hair is loose and streaming down her shoulders, like a waterfall at midnight. Her hot pink beanie is topped with a turquoise ball. She’s got a turquoise scarf wrapped around her neck. Turquoise mittens. Hot pink snow pants.
If you’d asked me five minutes ago if she could get any prettier than the girl I remember in a summer sundress and flip-flops, I would’ve said no way. Absolutely not.
And yet.
Sara Hathaway is way beyond pretty.
She’s a grown woman now, grinning at me like she’s ready for anything. My jaw must fall open, because she glances down, checking out her jacket and pants. “What?”
“Nothing.” I slam my mouth shut. “It’s just … you look very …”
She lifts her chin. “Warm?”
I nod. “Yeah. And also …”
“Colorful?”
“I was going to say you look …” My voice trails off as I fumble for an answer. The truth is, she looks incredibly beautiful. Not to mention fun. Like someone I could spend all day with. But besides all that, I know she’s also kind. Generous and smart. The woman of my dreams. But I can’t tell her these things. “You look…like cotton candy,” I finally manage.
She scrunches up her face. “Ugh. No.”
“What’s wrong with cotton candy? It’s sweet and pink and fluffy.”
“Fluffy’s not exactly a compliment.” She lets out a string of laughter, ending on a snort. “Never mind,” she says. “Forget I asked.”
“Yeah. Forget I said it.”
“Deal.” A new dimple presses into her cheek. “Oh, wait!” She lifts a finger. “I just thought of something.” She ducks into the house, returning almost immediately with one large carrot and a box of Oreos. “For the snowman’s nose and eyes,” she says. “I figure we can spare these.”
“You take your snowman building seriously, huh?” I make a move to stand from the stump, but Sara waves me back down.
“No, you stay there.” She sets the carrot and Oreos on the bottom step, then trudges out into the snow.
I pull down my brow. “You want me to just sit here and … watch you?”
“It’ll be safer.” She stoops to start scooping snow into a ball, then she keeps rolling and rolling until the pile slowly takes shape.
