Page 85 of That Time We Kissed Under the Mistletoe
“Of course not.” I snuffle and snarf, scrambling back into a seated position at the edge of the bed. “At least one of us should look beautiful tonight.”
“Stop right there with that nonsense. You’re gorgeous.” She peers into the screen. “In fact, you’re … oddly glowing. What’s that all about?”
“That’s not a glow.” I puff out a weak laugh. “It’s just redness from all the crying.” Plucking a tissue from the box on the nightstand, I swipe at my wet cheeks then blow my nose, a sad little honk.
“Wait.” Her eyes dip, surveying the rest of me. “Are you wearing your green dress right now?”
“Uh-huh.” Another nod and sniffle from me.
“That’s my favorite.”
“Mine too,” I groan.
“But why did you even have that dress in Abieville?” Bristol narrows her eyes. “Did you bring it just in case you ran into Three?”
“I just wanted to feel pretty.” I lower my voice to a whisper. “And then … and then …” I let my sentence trail off.
“Breathe,” Bristol says. “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. But I think you need to start from the very beginning and tell me everything.”
So I do.
While she drags a contouring stick along her cheeks, draws perfect wings across her lids, and brushes mascara over her lashes, I recount everything that’s happened with Three since the concussion. She hears about Henry, our snowman. The Christmas tree farm. Getting trapped in the storage room. Ryan Detweiler. Three’s grilled cheese sandwich. Sully’s spray paint.
Everything.
Especially the kisses.
Telling Bristol about these moments—about the connection Three and I still share—helps to loosen the tightness in my chest. I’m almost feeling a little clearer. Until I get to tonight.
Then I picture Three’s soft eyes and I hear the echo of what he thinks he overheard, and the confusion ricochets right back in again.
“So what are you thinking now?” Bristol asks, while she fills in her brows. “Do you believe he’s telling the truth about your parents?”
“I believehebelieves it.” A tentative sigh skitters out of me. “And I’m just hoping my mom and dad didn’t mean any of the harm they caused. But either way, I’m going to have to talk to them. If I’ve learned anything these past few days, it’s that not sharing your feelings is a mistake.”
“All right then.” She slicks on a layer of lipgloss.” Let’s assume Three really wants a second chance with you. Is that something you’d want, too?”
“I don’t know.” My heartbeat accelerates, and I lay a hand to my chest and press. “I mean, he’s still the same kind, generous person I fell in love with a decade ago, except now he’s a man. A man with a solid career. A man who matters to this town. A man whose goodness and worthiness I’d stack up against anyone else on this earth.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“His whole life is here in Abieville. His family. His school. His students.”
“And?”
“And.” I gulp. “I’m about to accept a full-time position at Hathaway Cooke. My dad’s a founding partner. We’ve been planning for me to follow in his footsteps my whole life.”
“Interesting.” Bristol blots her lips. “You said, ‘We’vebeen planning.’”
“It’s not just my dad. I’ve always had the same goal.”
“Okay. But is working for your dad’s firm still your dream?”
I pause for a moment, considering her question. Considering my answer. “I love the law, and I love justice,” I say. “I know the legal system is flawed, but I want to do my part to make it better, you know?” I tip my chin. “So yes, I want to be an attorney. And I want that for myself. I’m not just doing it for my father.”
“Good answer.” Bristol smiles at me. “So where does that leave Three, then? If you accept the job, you’ll have to stay in the city, but that’s only about three hours away. Can’t you swing that?”
I swallow hard. “The distance isn’t what I’m worried about.”
