Page 2 of Winter Break Up

The history between us is all over her face, like she expected me to be here and still hadn’t prepared herself. Honestly, aside from the ambush when she turned around, Emily didn’t look all that surprised to see me. A lightbulb goes off in my head.

“Did you know I was going to be working here?” The question comes out with a puff of air that nearly touches her lips, we’re standing so close now.

Emily shrugs, her gaze dropping to the saw in her gloved hand. “My dad might have mentioned something.”

Ah, so they gave her a heads-up and hadn’t given me one. Not that I needed it; it’s a foregone conclusion that Emily will be working on her family’s tree farm. But part of me now thinks that her mother asked me to come out here so we could get our awkward first meeting out of the way with no one around.

Without my gaze leaving hers, I reach out to grab the saw from her hand. Even with gloves covering both of our fingers, the brush of my fabric against hers sends sparks down my spine. How the hell, after three and a half years, does Emily Palmer still garner this kind of reaction from me?

So many questions are on the tip of my tongue, from how she’s doing now to where she wants to end up after graduation. It’s not like I get much information about her; after our breakup, Emily became a no-go topic between Charlie and me. If we wanted to sustain our friendship, it was better for both of us not to discuss his sister.

Now that I have her in front of me, I want to dig beneath the surface and get to know her like I had. But I’m just here for winter break, home for a month between semesters, just like she is. Nothing can come of this, both for my heart and because I’m pretty sure Emily is no longer interested in me. It’s been years, after all, and it’s not farfetched to believe one of us has pretty much forgotten the other.

No matter how much that stings.

Taking the saw from her hand, I walk to the tree she’s been attempting to cut down for a customer. Getting a clean cut, preserving as many needles as possible, picking the perfect tree for each family; there’s a science to working on a tree farm. At this moment, I feel I’m about to fall right back into it.

With one harsh, smooth pull of the blade across the wood, I free the tree from its trunk and neatly toss it on the four-wheeler. With every fiber of my being, I hope I made that look impressively cool and effortless.

“Is it smart for you to be moving your knee that much?”

At her words, my heart drops. For so many reasons, the least of which is that she knows about my injury and cares enough to ask if I’m okay doing this physical labor. Emotion gathers in my throat, forming a knot, and I try to breathe through my nose. I try not to see the footage I’ve seen a thousand times of me going down on that soccer field and the entire crowd going quiet. I try not to feel the searing pain of tendons tearing, surgery, recovery, and physical therapy.

I try to bottle it all up, smooth it over, and put on the unaffected charm I’ve used throughout the last year.

“Are you just upset that I could do that in six seconds with a bum leg while you couldn’t accomplish it with two good ones?”

Something flickers in her eyes, almost like sadness, and I immediately want to know why. But before I can ask about it, she’s turning, and I can only glimpse her side profile. She’s shut herself off from me.

“Not like I did ninety percent of the job for you or anything. Show off,” Emily mutters as she shakes her head.

My smirk is the only acknowledgment of her annoyance. “Do you want a ride back or would holding on to me be too unbearable for you?”

“I’ll walk, thanks.” Showing me her backside, the one I’ve thought about way too much over the years, Emily begins to walk off toward the large barn that doubles as a checkout and ornament/wreath shop.

“Don’t be dumb, Em. It’s freezing out here already, and we’ve got a whole day ahead of us. Hop on. Or sit in front if it suits you. Don’t worry, I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

I can’t help razzing her; it was our love language back in the day. Taunting and teasing led to us falling in love, and borrowing that old tactic feels natural.

Her shoulders rise and fall while she faces away from me, and it looks like she’s trying to take a calming breath.

Turning to look over her shoulder, those hazel eyes meet mine again. “No, thank you, Mercer. Really, it was nice of you to offer. I don’t want to do this while you’re here. Charlie is happy to be working with you this Christmas, and my parents are so appreciative of the extra hands. We can be civil, even friendly. No need to do this with each other. So thanks, but I’m going to walk. I like being out here on the farm again, and who knows what next year will bring.”

The small smile that flits over her lips does a weird, twisting thing to my heart, and I hate that she’s being so mature about this. It was easier mere moments ago when she was annoyed at my flippant comment. Because kind Emily is the one who guts me, this version of her that is sweet and sincere, who doesn’t want to rehash our breakup so that her brother can get what he wants for the holiday season, it will always pull me toward her like a magnet.

Even if she’s the one who ended things, even if I’m the one who could still be pissed off with her considering the roles we assumed, I find I’m nothing but deeply attracted to her at this moment. Not even in the physical sense, but on a level where I want to read her thoughts and observe her motives.

It seems that the girl I once loved has grown up while we were apart. And it’s not a shock in the least that I want to see more of her. That I want to have whatever parts of herself she’ll open up to me.

I’m in so much damn trouble.

What was supposed to be a quick month and some change at home, a holiday respite to spend with hometown family and friends, has just gotten that much more complicated.

2

EMILY

He looks too damn good in a parka.

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