Page 17 of Tempted By December

"That's before I met the big jerk." She grimaces, somehow managing to look guilty and amused at the same time. "He likes you, December. Likecrawl through a blizzard in his underwear likes you. Don't let that slip through your fingers because you're afraid."

"Who said I'm afraid? I'm not afraid."

"Liar," Jillian says. "We both know that's why you really ran last night. You're in love with him and you're terrified he doesn't feel the same."

"What if he doesn't?" I whisper, staring into my coffee like it holds the answers to the universe.

"What if he does?" she retorts.

I glance up at her again.

"You'll never know if you never stop running."

She's right, dang it. I am in love with him. And when he said what he did, it hurt because I thought he couldn't possibly think that if he felt the same way about me. So I ran. I'm good at running. It's easier to protect my heart if I never risk it.

But if I never risk it, I'll spend the rest of my life dreaming about him...just like I've spent the last six years dreaming about him. I never forgot him for a reason. And he never forgot me either.

Maybe the truth is embarrassing, but I owe it to myself to tell it anyway. Which means I have to talk to him. I have to see him.

Gulp.

Ishowupforclean-up duty at noon with my heart in my throat and anxiety coursing through my veins instead of blood. In the light of day, the decorations transforming the showroom into an opulent winter wonderland seem just as magical as they did last night. At least until I find out that Alaric isn't coming.

He's skipping out on clean-up for the first time that anyone can remember. So is Blaze. Everyone looks to me for answers, but I keep my head down, pretending I don't see their questioning looks and curious stares.

Eventually, they give up on getting anything out of me, turn the music up, and let me clean in peace. Not that I find much of that. He's avoiding me.

Is it too late for me to fix what I messed up last night?

My heart aches at the thought.

It takes five hours to return the showroom to its former glory. By the time we're finished, the only thing left is the massive tree.

Alaric never puts in an appearance.

"Oh, shoot!" Sariah cries as everyone else is stacking boxes. "Someone needs to run by the warehouse to make sure the truck left room for everything."

"Seriously?" Claudia scowls, pushing her hair back from her forehead. "I'm sure it's fine. Besides, my feet already hurt."

"That's because you wore ballet flats," Troy from accounting mutters, hoisting a box over his head. "You need to invest in sneakers."

"They'll pry my shoes out of my cold, dead hands," Claudia snaps. "I am not wearing sneakers."

"I'll go," I say.

Everyone turns to look at me.

"I'll go," I repeat. "Just tell me what I need to do."

Sariah shoots me a grateful smile. "I knew I loved you for a reason. You just need to make sure the delivery truck left room for the boxes. They were dropping off fabric today, but the warehouse is packed right now."

"Oh my God." Claudia rolls her eyes. "It's fine. Just leave the boxes and let the movers figure it out."

"I'll go. It's not a problem." I'm ready to get out of here anyway. The longer I'm here, the more time I have to think about the fact that Alaric didn't show up today.

Claudia snorts and then shrugs like it’s my problem, not hers.

"You'll need the door code," Sariah says before giving it to me. Once I repeat it back, she gives me a grateful smile. "Thanks, Jill."

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