Page 21 of Christmas Sunrise
"Yeah," I agree. There is no other word for it.
"Are you sure?" she asks me and, while a part of me rages to contest her and declare my feelings real and true and valid, another part of me - just as big and just as immovable - knows it would be wrong to do so.
"I don't know," I say as more tears slide down my face.
Arabella drops her hands and steps closer. In a heartbeat, I'm wrapped up in her embrace and I feel the warmth of her body flush against the side of my face. The sensation of being safe, of being anchored to her intensifies, and I suddenly feel so very, very foolish.
"Shit," I say into the material of her top. "I'm so sorry. That was so..."
"Adorable?" Arabella pulls back a little so I can gaze up at her. "Weird and sweet and memorable?"
"I really thought there was something between us," I say, suddenly wanting to explain.
"There is!" Arabella says loudly. "You're my best friend. I love you like I love no other human on this earth!"
I nod, perhaps a little manically as I reach for some toilet roll and wipe my nose.
"But I really did think that... I really did believe I could fancy you."
Arabella tilts her chin to the side and gives me a sultry smile. "But of course, you would think that. Who doesn't? I'm a fucken siren."
"Siren? Jesus, what century is it?"
My best friend shrugs. "Back to how gorgeous I am..."
"You're not freaked out?" I ask, getting more toilet roll for my eyes and face now my tears have slowed.
"I was when you tried to shove your tongue in my mouth and grab my arse, but now a few things are making sense to me. You've been a bit funny the last few times we've spoken on the phone. Like you were mentally somewhere else. I put it down to jetlag and being so busy with work, but now I realise you've been asking yourself all these daft questions and..."
"They're not daft questions," I say, defensiveness rumbling up inside me. "I really did think I fancied you."
"But you don't?" She asks carefully, holding eye contact.
"I don't think I do, no," I say and I both love and hate how much calm saying those words out loud brings me.
"Thank fuck for that because trust me, I am not an easy woman to get over and you'd have had to get yourself over me, you know. Because I'm never going to ruin this friendship of ours. You're stuck with me for life."
"Good," I say into her top again because she's pulled me in for another hug.
Chapter Eight
Jenna
Less than a minute after we drop Arabella off, Maeve bursts into tears.
"Oh, God, Maeve's crying!" Jake says to us redundantly because I can hear Maeve's whimpers perfectly.
"Jesus, so she is," Marty says, just as uselessly as he glances in the rear-view mirror at his sister on the backseat next to Jake.
I twist in my seat so I can reach and place my hand on Maeve's leg. "Maeve, what is it, sweetheart?"
She says something but it's inaudible through the sobs. She tries again but then she starts to hiccup.
"Off she goes," Marty comments as he stops at a traffic light. "She always used to hiccup from crying when she was younger."
"Ugh, I hate hiccups. I swear they give me heartburn," Jake says. He and Marty are lucky they're too far apart that I can't bash their heads together for all this unhelpful commentary. Glancing at the lights quickly and seeing they’re still red, I think and speak quickly.
"Jake, swap seats with me." I undo my seatbelt and ignore the car’s pinging.
