Page 33 of Mr. Right Under the Mistletoe

18

Nick

The entire drive home, all I could think about was Sydney and how I’d put her in this untenable position. If she lost her job, it was going to be all my fault. I couldn’t let that happen. Worst case, I’d play out my contract and wait for her. It’d be a long two years, but she was worth it.

“Mom, where’s Sydney?” I asked, swinging into the kitchen. I’d already checked upstairs; her laptop and suitcase were still there, but no Sydney.

“She took your bike and rode it up to the beach,” my mom said, glancing over at me from the kitchen sink.

“What? It’s freezing.”

“She said she needed some time to think, so I suggested she take a walk on the beach. It always helps me clear my head.”

I narrowed my eyes at my mother. “She told you, didn’t she?”

“We talked, yes.”

“Oh god,” I said, shoving my hand in my pocket. “I’m sorry, Mom, I never meant to lie to you. I just didn’t know how to tell you we broke up. I know how much you love Sydney. Don’t be mad at her—she didn’t want to go along with it, I talked her into the plan.”

My mom blinked at me, frowning. “What are talking about, Nick?”

“What? Oh, uh, nothing.” I quickly backpedaled, but it was too late.

“Nicholas Milton, you come clean right this second.” Her tone was stern, brooking no argument from me. I sat down hard on a barstool, facing my mother.

“And start from the beginning,” she warned.

“Fine.” I scrubbed a hand across the back of my neck and told my mom the story from the very beginning.

“Let me get this straight—you aren’t actually together? You were only pretending for our sake?”

I nodded. “Yes. Except I still want to be together. And I think Sydney feels the same way, but she also loves her job and I don’t want to make her choose between me and her career.”

“I see.” My mom took a seat next to me. “You could go to HR and tell them what you just told me—minus the still wanting to date part—and save her job.”

“Yes. And that’s what I need to tell Sydney before she does anything that could cost her the job. I have a two-year contract, but I’m willing to wait for her if that’s what she wants.”

“That’s a lovely gesture, Nicholas, and I’m sure she’ll appreciate it. Something tells me she won’t want to wait, though.”

“Really?” My face fell, imagining Sydney moving on with someone else.

“No. I’m fairly certain she feels the same way about you and two years can seem like a very long time when you’re waiting to be with someone you love. You have a lot to work through.” My mom patted my knee. “You better run up to the beach and find her before she calls HR and quits her job.”

“What? You think she’ll do that?”

“Strong possibility, I’d say. Go.” My mom swatted my arm, shooing me out of the kitchen. “And don’t forget her coffee!” She pressed it into my hand and then I rushed out to find Sydney before she did something I couldn’t undo.

* * *

The beach was cold, windy, and empty. I spotted my bike leaning up against the wooden steps leading to the beach. I peered down the swath of white sand and saw one lone person about fifty yards away.

“Sydney!” I called out, but the howling wind swallowed up my voice.

Jogging down the steps, I was happy all that running in football training would finally pay off. Within two minutes, I’d caught up with her.

“Syd!”

She swiveled, her ponytail swishing behind her, her dark eyes wide with surprise.

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