Page 59 of Joy to Noel
“I honestly don’t know. Logically, no. But . . .” I trail off.
“But your chemistry is off the charts?” Syd teases.
I sit up straight, pinning her with a glare. “How would you even know that? You saw us interact for all of—what?—thirty minutes at the town cleanup?”
“Clara had a few observations from your time visiting Pops as well,” Syd adds with a twinkle in her eye.
Clara chokes on a bite of scone as I swivel to her. “How dare you, Clareeey?!” I only pull out the “Clarey” name when I really want to display my annoyance at Clara.
She coughs longer than I think is actually necessary, and then she tries to give me her sweetest puppy eyes. “Don’t hold it against me! I just made a casual comment in passing to Syd about how cute you and Liam were together.”
Now Ireallyglare at Clara, because there’s no way the word “cute” could be what she used to describe Liam and me.
“I believe her exact words were, ‘Finally, Mads found someone who matches her sass,’” Syd cuts in, eyes dancing. “In the absolutebestway possible. I can’t wait to see for myself on the float trip.”
“Do not make this a big thing, or you will scare Liam away,” I state firmly. Clara and Syd look at me with twin expressions of confusion. “He’s not the type to open up to people easily. Or at all. Kinda like Clark, but . . . different. Just, don’t push him too hard, okay?”
“We won’t,” Clara vows. “I promise. And we’re not pushing you either, okay, Mads? You know I love romance, but I loveyoumore.”
I nod at Clara, but then Syd adds, “Well, I’m maybe pushing you ateenybit, but only because I know you can take it.” She winks at me, and I smile in return.
Maybe I wasn’t able to avoid thinking about Liam all evening, but this girls’ night was still exactly what I needed.
Chapter twenty-five
Liam
June
Iwasn’t sure what to expect out of a river float trip in Arkansas, but I’m having a shockingly enjoyable time. The other guys here—Beau, Clark, and Davis—are comfortable in a way that suggests this was an integral part of their childhood and young adult years. Although I grew up three hours from here, I was never invited on any float trips (not that I would have accepted an invitation). I suppose I could have experienced something similar during college, but the vibe at the University of California, Berkeley was a different world than northwest Arkansas. Kayaking at Albany Beach is very different from lazily floating down a small river in an inner tube.
By the time I was getting my MBA at Pepperdine Graziadio Business School, I was too focused on learning everything I possibly could about the business world to bother with recreational activities. Aside from a daily morning run, at least.
As I watch the easy camaraderie between these lifelong friends, there’s a dull pain behind my ribs. An uncomfortable feeling, like I’ve missed out on something. I shift in my inner tube, my attention catching on Madison and Clara twirling each other’s tubes in circles.
Being in close proximity to Madison in a bathing suit adds a different layer to the subtle torture of this event. I’ve tried to maintain distance from her in the weeks following those nights together during thestorm. Fought to shut down the instincts that scream at me to pursue her the way I dream about.
Watching her interact with this group of friends—the way she radiates energy as she volleys sarcastic banter with everyone—only makes my gut instinct even harder to ignore. I’ve never fought this hard against my gut in my entire life, and it’s an infuriating battle.
“So, Liam, tell us some of your job’s greatest hits. Surely there must be some other companies that were more screwed up than our very own pet food factory,” Davis says with a grin.
“Yes, please tell me we’re not the worst train wreck you’ve ever seen,” Beau adds.
Laughing, I respond, “I don’t know how to answer that in a way that doesn’t disappoint you. This was definitely my first time uncovering an embezzlement scheme. It just might take the cake.”
Beau groans, splashing water over his face.
“But that was definitely a Wilson screw-up, not the employees,” I amend, trying to soften the blow. “But I do have stories for days of general incompetence and idiocy, if not outright criminal activity.”
As I share examples, there are shocked exclamations, howling laughter, and pleas for more horror stories. It feels easy conversing and connecting over stories of work that I’m good at without having to share any intimate details of my personal life.
By the time we reach the end of our float route and cook dinner over an open campfire, I realize just how comfortable I felt with this group of friends today. The knowing smile Madison is giving me from across the fire seems to indicate that she can sense my thoughts.
As we sit around the fire, Syd makes a comment about the significance of this annual float trip that everyone picks up on but me.
“Wait, Liam doesn’t know about this,” Madison says. “Clara, Clark, fill him in on the history of float trips and Christmas and your love story.”
I appreciate her looping me in, and the rest of the group seems eager to throw in their two cents as Clara and Clark share—well, mostly Clara. Clark offers minimal verbal additions, but he stares at Clara with mesmerized eyes the entire time.
