Page 95 of That Time We Kissed Under the Mistletoe
Chapter Forty-Four
Sara
Ten Years Ago: August
We’re heading back to the city tomorrow, and I’m moving to California next week, so I really should be packing, but I can’t fold T-shirts right now. My stomach’s in knots, my heart’s full of butterflies, and my brain is one big ball of fizz.
Three’s coming over soon to take me out for our last night. Saying goodbye to him always stuffs a whole spectrum of emotionsinto my body.
It’s the best. And the worst.
He’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a man: kind, chivalrous, smart, not to mention the funniest person I’ve ever met.
The truth is I’m completely in love with Three Fuller, and I have been for a while. I’m done pretending being with him only a few months a year is enough for me. So I’m going to commit myself to him, even though we’ll be long distance. I want to be his. Exclusively. More than I’ve ever wanted anything else.
I know it’s a risk, not waiting for him to ask first, but I can see it in his eyes when he looks at me, and feel it in his touch when he holds me …
He loves me too.
I just think neither one of us has been brave enough to say the words, because of the “expiration date” every August. And it’s scary, let’s be honest. Still, Three is worth all the fear. He’s also worth all the hope and all the joy.
And yes, I’ll be on opposite coast from him now—even farther away than when I was at St. Bernadette’s—but so what? I can visit in between quarters. And I’ll look for summer internships in Albany. I only hope my parents won’t be too disappointed that I probably won’t be coming home on breaks as often from now on. But I can’t put off that conversation any longer. They need to know how I feel.This is it. I’m about to take the bull by the horns and make my REAL dream a reality.
Wish me luck!
(One lifetime of love … Coming up!)
Chapter Forty-Five
Three
I finish brushing snow off the other half of the fallen log we’re using as a bench, and drop down beside Sara. In front of us, the lake stretches out like glass. The Hathaways’ house rises behind us, sprawling across the property. As Sara begins to put on her skates, my eyes trace her every movement.
Yep. Watching Sara. Like I told her. Not too shabby.
She slips her gloves off, laying them in her lap, then she shoves her foot into the first skate. When she swipes her hair back, the smell of cinnamon and cloves wafts between us, flooding my senses.
Annnd now I’m sniffing Sara. Which is awkward, but I can’t help it. In this moment, she’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever smelled, and I’ve worked at a candle shop and a bakery.
Anyway, she must sense me studying her—or maybe she heard me trying to inhale her scent, hoping it might live permanently in my lungs—because she glances sideways and her lip curves up. “Are you all right?”
“Never better.” I straighten my spine, acting smooth.
“Uh-oh.” She chews her lip. “You’re already bored, aren’t you?”
“No way.” I cut my eyes to her skates. “Just make sure you tie those tight. I want you to be safe, and you were a little wobbly last time.”
“That’s because I was walking on concrete floors. Not skating on ice.” She returns to her task, her fingers working the laces. Tightening, looping, tightening. Each new stretch tugs at my heartstrings.
If I’d had one birthday wish today, it would’ve been to freeze time so this week wouldn’t end. I love Christmas as much as the next guy, but I’d give up all future holidays to have Sara here with me. Forever.
When she leans over to deal with her other skate, her hair falls into a black drape over her shoulder, masking her profile again. So I go back to staring at her. Soaking up every detail. Possibly sniffing.
She’s leaving tomorrow, and yes, she says she’ll come back to Abieville on Christmas, but who knows? The doctor did clear me to be left alone. Assuming the house gets approved, she’ll have no actual reason to return. Once Sara’s in the city, with her parents in her ear, her dad officially offering her a job, she might decide it would be easier to stay.
And if that’s what she wants, I’ll have to accept it. All I care about is making her happy. And that’s exactly why I’m giving her my all today. From a log, sure. But still, this is Sara’s time. She’s the star.
This moment isn’t about fundraiser donations or bar exam results or some speech to praise the good works of Children’s Village. Those things are all important, yes.
