Page 82 of Booked for the Holidays
“Oh,” I whisper. My lip wobbles, the tell-tale sign of a swell of emotions about to overtake me. I look away and bite my lip, the bubble of knowledge that no one has ever accepted those less-than-perfect parts of me rising in my chest. “Thank you.”
“C’mere.”
Theo’s arms open and I shuffle into the embrace I’ve been longing for. The arms I’ve missed, blissfully content as I bury my face in his shirt, tears staining the fabric that’s rough against my skin.
“Theo?”
“Yeah?”
“This shirt is awful. I hate it.”
He laughs, shoulders shaking and jostling my cheek. “It’s fucking terrible, isn’t it? I’m burning it when I get home.”
“Good. The flannels are better.”
“Glad you agree.” He squeezes my upper arms twice. “Doing okay?”
“Yeah.” I nod and pull away, not wanting to overstay my welcome. Half of my brain is screaming at me to remain put, to enjoy him a little while longer. The other is telling me to leave, to not get too greedy.
It’s a game of tug of war where no one wins.
I wipe my eyes and look across the room. I smile when I see Lucas talking Chandler’s ear off. She’s nodding along, pretending to look unenthused and bored. I can see the way she holds back a laugh, though. She subtly adjusts her position, a fraction of an inch, to get a little closer to him.
“Lucas is a nice guy,” I say.
Theo follows my gaze and hums. “He’s the best. After the accident, he really helped me out at the store and at home. It was such a big change and he’s always been there. I’d trust him with my life. Does Chandler like nice guys?”
“No. She avoids them like the plague, unfortunately, and somehow always falls for the bad apples. She deserves one, though. A knight in shining armor. The guy that would hurt anyone that harms her.”
“Lucas could be that guy.”
“I’m sure he could be. I’m sure he is. Chandler doesn’t want a relationship, and Lucas doesn’t strike me as the guy who does anything casual.”
“Sometimes people change,” Theo says.
“Yeah. Sometimes they do.”
“I need to run. Mac has soccer practice tonight.”
“I love that she’s an athlete. Does she want to play in high school? Did you play?”
“I won’t force her or pressure her to pick up a sport. If she wants to play, I’ll support her. And yeah, I did play. All through high school.”
“Huh,” I say. “I never would have pegged you for a soccer guy. Football or rugby, maybe. Something violent with a lot of grunting and anger.”
“Your kindness knows no bounds.”
“Speaking of kindness, I should tell you there’s still a chocolate chip in your hair.”
“I’m saving it for later. Thank you for today. For calming me down. For being patient with me. For the food fight and… all of it, really. Thanks for being you.”
I smile. “I wouldn’t want anyone else to throw a bag of flour in my face.”
Theo nods and I nod back. Soon we’re two people surrounded by tape measures and yardsticks, nodding at each other like we’re idiots. Traces of brownie still on our faces but totally happy, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
He huffs and taps my hand in farewell, fingers drumming over the back of my palm. He glides away, leaving me alone, missing him every second he’s gone.
THIRTY-TWO
