Page 125 of The Holiday Fakers
I take Piper’s arm as we walk away. It’s dark now, and every house we pass is lit up with lights.
“Thank you for doing that with me,” I say.
“My pleasure. I’m so glad we saw him. It helps get rid of all those bad memories. And Judy was a grade above Ethan and you, so we had a nice chat while you did your boys’ stuff.”
I smile. “He’s got a telescope in his attic room trained on the mountain cave.”
“So you were right.”
“Lucky guess.”
We continue in silence, and I wonder if Piper’s thinking about whether I’ll be back in Hideaway next summer or not.
Outside her parents’ house, we stop.
“You sure you’re okay with me going to Ethan’s for the evening?” I ask.
“Absolutely. You both need this. Him, probably more than you. I’m going to have a chill evening with Mom, Mia, and Harper, then?—”
“Chill?”
She laughs. “It won’t be a late one. I’ll be keeping the bed warm for you.”
I lean down and capture her lips with mine. My cock immediately stirs, wanting more.
For a few moments, Piper softens, opening to me, her tongue darting into my mouth and making me groan.
Then she pulls back and moves to the front door. “I’ll be waiting …”
I repress a growl of frustration, then touch my fingers to my lips and extend my arm as if blowing her a kiss.
The words “I love you” are waiting in my throat, but Erica opens the door for her daughter, and Piper’s gone.
I head back down the snowy sidewalk. I’ve never been to Ethan’s house before, but Piper showed me where it is—only a couple of blocks away.
With each step forward, memories of the past bear down on me. With Piper, I feel lighter than air but now, on my way to see Ethan, the ghosts of Olivia and all my regrets feel like weights around my ankles.
Walking up the path from the street, I note the subdued Christmas decorations on Ethan’s house—there, but not chaotic or oversized, and the perfectly maintained family home.
It’s only when my hand is on the door knocker that I realize I’ve come empty-handed. What a fucking shitty friend I am, not even bringing him a beer?
The door opens and the first thing I see are Ethan’s dark eyes, then my heart stops as I notice what’s over his shoulder.
A six-foot-tall, four-foot-wide photo hangs facing the entrance. It’s of Olivia, and she’s looking directly at me.
“Uncle Brody!”
I force my eyes down to mini-Olivia, vibrating with excitement at my arrival.
“I …” I pause, dragging my gaze back up to Ethan’s face. “I didn’t bring anything.”
“Didn’t need to. Come on in.”
I stumble into the hall. There’s a rack for shoes and coats, and two doors leading further into the house, but I can’t stop staring at the photo of Olivia.
It’s not how I remember her. She was always laughing, full of life, but in this photo she’s too composed, almost distant. Sure, she’s smiling, but she looks like an ice queen silently judging anyone who passes by.
I already don’t feel worthy.
