Page 34 of A Christmas Road Trip

“Who told you they died in that car accident?”

“My grandpa did. I was in school, and they called me to the principal’s office. I thought I was in trouble.” His voice is mild. Uninflected. “And my grandpa was there. He took me out to the car and told me there.”

He doesn’t seem particularly upset. After all, the tragedy is decades old now. But I can sense a quiet ache in him, so I move closer. Reach out and rub his shoulder. He bends one arm and covers my hand that’s settled on his chest.

“So I came to Green Valley and moved in with my grandparents. And I started a new school where they sat me next to a good girl with long hair and hazel eyes who always followed the rules.”

I smile fondly. “It wasn’t actually a very good strategy on Miss Prettiman’s part. Because instead of helping you behave better, I kept trying not to laugh at all your jokes.”

“I know. Every time you almost laughed, it just encouraged me to try harder.”

I’m filled with affection. It’s overflowing inside me. I lean closer, wrapping both hands around his neck and keeping them there. “It was a losing battle on my part. I’d go home and complain to my mom that this annoying new boy kept trying to make me laugh, and if I did, I might get in trouble.”

He chuckles, sliding a piece of my hair back behind my shoulder. “You never got in trouble.”

“No. I didn’t. But I might have, and it would have been your fault.”

“Yes, it would. You can blame me all you want.” His voice is softer now. Slightly hoarse. I catch a glimpse of something deep and rich and almost yearning in his eyes as he gazes down at me.

It thrills and scares me at the same time. I duck my head and reach for anything to break the tension. “Do you still miss your parents?”

He makes an odd noise in throat, as if the question takes him by surprise. “Yes. I do. Not all the time. It’s not always weighing me down the way it used to, although I do sometimes expect—whenever I’m happy—it’s going to be snatched away from me the way it was back then. But I do miss them sometimes. I think about them a lot. Wonder what they’d think of me now.”

The edge to his tone upsets me, so I forget about my shyness before. “They’d love you, Chase. Of course they would. They’d be so proud of you.”

“Would they? What exactly have I made of my life for them to be so proud of me?”

“You’ve done plenty. You finished college and never told anyone.”

He frowns. “How did you find out about that?”

“Your grandma, of course. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It didn’t really matter. I just did it to finish what I started. And it wasn’t like it was a difficult program or anything. Just a basic online degree. And it’s not like I need it for an impressive career.”

“That doesn’t matter. Your parents would still be proud of you. You work hard, and you take care of your grandma. You can get a different kind of job if you want, but if you’re happy at the coffee shop, then that’s fine. They’d hate to lose you. It feels like you do everything there as it is.”

“Well, actually...”

“What?” I’m still hanging all over him. I should back up, but I don’t want to. “At this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised if you admit to being a part owner of the coffee shop.”

He chuckles. “No such luck. But they did promote me to manager. I told them I don’t really need the title bump, but they did it anyway.”

I laugh helplessly and hug him. “You’re ridiculous! Why didn’t you tell us that?”

“Didn’t feel like a big deal.”

“Well, it doesn’t change how we feel about you, but we could have celebrated your accomplishments. Why shouldn’t we?”

“I guess it doesn’t feel like that much, compared to what all the rest of you’ve done with your lives.” He sounds light, almost dismissive, as if he’s not taking it seriously.

But I really think he is.

“Stop it, Chase. You’re not the slacker you’ve always pretended to be. And even if you were, it wouldn’t matter. Your parents would still have so much to be proud of. No matter what you say, you’ve sacrificed a lot out of love for your grandparents. You’ve been so good to your family. And you’re incredibly smart but not in any way arrogant about it. And you’re generous and thoughtful and kindhearted and funny as hell.”

“Yeah?” he says very softly. He keeps checking my face.

“Yes. And you’ve got so many friends. Friends who are crazy about you.”

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