Something flashes across his face, there and gone so fast I have no chance of deciphering it. “If you want me to.”
“Of course.”
“Then, yeah. I’d love to.”
Giddy excitement rushes through me. Nowthisfeels like childlike joy. “Fuck, okay. I’m so excited.”
Arlo rolls his eyes. “Okay, but I want these.” He holds up a box. It’s an ugly Christmas sweater cookie kit. With little bags of icingand sugar cookies in the shape of sweaters.
“No way. That’s so cool. We definitely need it.”
He tosses it in the cart with a smile as we pick out a few crafting things. One is a decorate-your-own-Santa-hat kit, another a felt reindeer craft. My favorite is the snowman-making kit.
“I think we have enough,” I say when the cart is loaded down with crafting kits, the tree, some Grinch-themed balls I found, and a rug for outside the front door.
None of the decorations are cohesive, but I think that makes it all the more special, honestly.
After we check out, Arlo and I walk outside into the cool air. Now that it’s December, it’s getting colder and colder. The air nips at your skin, freezing your nose almost instantly.
We race across the parking lot, putting everything in the trunk as quickly as we can. “Holy s-s-shit,” I stammer, teeth chattering. “It’s f-f-freezing.”
Arlo throws his head back with a loud laugh. I toss him the keys, then shove my hands into my pockets. “Start the car. I’m gonna put the cart up.”
I damn near run back toward the store, pushing the cart one-handed while keeping my other tucked in my pocket. I shove the cart into the corral, and I’m turning to walk away when someone catches my eye.
I catch just the barest glimpse of him as he disappears between two aisles, but the salt and pepper hair and knee-length peacoat freeze the blood in my veins faster than any cold air ever could.
I’m rooted in place, terrified to walk away, and terrified to investigate further.
There’s no way. There’s no fucking way at all. I shake my head, willing my body to move. To walk out the door and go back to mycar. It’s not him. It’s not. It can’t be.
My mind’s playing tricks on me. Just like in the woods. Just like in the car lot. I take a step forward, then another, walking deeper into the store and to the aisles I saw the man walk into. My heart’s pounding in my ears, so deafening I can’t even hear my own footsteps as I peek around the corner and glance down the aisle.
Nothing.
No one is there.
It’s not Damien. It’s not. He’s not the only man with that coat. Nor is he the only man with black salt and pepper hair.
It’s not him. It’s not him. It’s not him.
I haven’t heard so much as a peep out of him in all this time. The odds of him finding me now are slim to none. It’s been months. Why would he show up now? There’s no way.
And besides, if he were here, he would have found me already. And Damien wouldn’t be caught dead in a Hobby Lobby.
I turn and walk back into the cold, rushing to the car and flinging the door open before quickly sliding into the driver’s seat.
Arlo squawks. “Shit. You scared me. What took you so long?”
“Got distracted,” I say, holding my hands in front of the vent to warm them up some before putting the car in reverse and backing out.
ArloisavoidingJasperlike the plague. It’s been a thing all night long, and I haven’t been able to figure out why yet.
Maybe they aren’t the best of friends, but they get along well enough, or at least they did, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why that’s not the case anymore.
Arlo’s lost in his task, focusing hard on putting his snowman together, and Jasper? Well, he’s focused hard on watching Arlo. Jesus, I wish I knew what they were thinking.
There are some benefits to knowing your boyfriend your entire life. One of them is knowing without a doubt that Austin has also picked up on this, and he’s giving me a side-eye that screams,We’re going to talk about this as soon as they leave.
