The song dies. Every single person on the stoop freezes.
It’s Mr. Bristol in his coat and Santa hat, Marla Bristol right behind him, two of their neighbors in knitted reindeer beanies, three random kids with song sheets, and half the guests from inside who were apparently on their way out for the annual neighborhood carol sing-along.
All of them staring at me. At us. At Cole’s arm banded around my waist and my very obviously kissed mouth.
Marla’s eyes go wide. Mr. Bristol’s brows shoot up. And they both say at the exact same time, in the exact same bewildered tone, “Oh boy.”
I make a choking sound. Cole’s fingers tighten at my hip like, well… guess we’re doing this.
Before I can even inhale, Maddie barrels out from behind her parents like she’s been waiting her whole life for this reveal. Her cheeks are pink from the heat inside, her hair a festive mess, and her grin is absolutely feral.
“I KNEW IT,” she shouts, pointing at us with a gloved hand. “I freaking knew it. You two cannot keep anything from me.”
“Maddie…” Cole warns, voice low, already annoyed.
She’s not listening. Of course she’s not. “No, no, no, this is my moment. I am vindicated. I said, ‘Mom, Hailey said his name weird on the phone,’ and I said, ‘Dad, Cole keeps looking at her like he wants to build her a house,’ and you were both all, ‘Oh, Maddie, you’re dramatic.’” She pivots toward me, eyes blazing, and for a second I think she’s going to lay into me, but she doesn’t. She smiles the biggest grin I’ve ever seen. “You were so damn obvious the second he showed up at your new place to help you move.”
I want to melt right through the porch boards. “I, okay, but in my defense?—”
Marla presses a hand to her chest, smiling. “Hailey, honey… you are already part of our family.”
Behind her, Mr. Bristol loudly claps his hands once. “Are we caroling or not?” he booms, like that’s the part of this situation that matters.
One of the neighbors, a guy in a puffy coat holding a thermos, grins. “Nope. This is better.”
“Yeah, Carl, this is way better than ‘O Come All Ye Faithful,’” the woman in the reindeer beanie adds, leaning to get a better look at us. “We can sing later.”
“It’s not Carl, it’s Jim,” Mr. Bristol mutters, but no one cares because everyone is now laser-focused on The Porch Make-Out of 2025.
Cole exhales through his nose like he’d rather be shoveling the entire driveway in his underwear than explaining his love lifeto his family and half the neighborhood. He shifts so I’m more behind him, protective, but it’s useless.
Maddie is still going. “Also, don’t think I didn’t hear you both in Cole’s room earlier. I know he wasn’t alone!”
“Oh my God,” I whisper.
“And you.” She swings to her brother. “You thought I didn’t notice you suddenly having a personality every time Hailey walked in a room? Please. You’ve been walking around like someone gave you your dog back.”
Cole drags a hand over his jaw. “Can we do this inside?” he grumbles. “It’s freezing.”
“It wasn’t freezing when you were sucking face,” Maddie sings.
“Madison Rose,” Marla says, scandalized.
“What! We all saw it!”
Mr. Bristol, God love him, tries again. “Coats on, everyone. If we’re doing the carol route, we need to?—”
“We’re not doing the route,” the neighbor dad says, openly laughing now. “This is better than the route.”
Another neighbor nods, stamping his boots. “Yeah, we’re staying for this.”
So now, in addition to the Bristols, we have multiple neighbors, three kids, and an entire living room’s worth of leftover holiday guests in coats, all clustered on the porch in thirty-degree weather to watch me be publicly exposed as the girl secretly making out with her best friend’s older brother.
Perfect.
I glance up at Cole. He’s looking down at me with that resigned,you’re worth the troublelook I’ve gotten addicted to. Our breath clouds between us.
“Well,” I murmur, “hi.”
