“Of course I’m grateful,” he snapped. “But I don’t want you to freeze.”
Out of nowhere, frustration bubbled up inside me, and I glanced down at the gloves covering my hands. “Who cares about my feelings? But don’t want me to freeze,” I muttered.
“What?”
The shock and bewilderment in this tone brought my head up, and good news, I was definitely not in danger of freezing because I was flaming hot with embarrassment.
Why did I say that out loud?
Choosing not to say anything more—who knew what would fall out?—andyes, I blamed the mistletoe—I started back in what I hoped was the direction of the truck.
“Toby,” Archer called.
I kept going, passing beneath what would be the oak’s canopy in the summer.
“Toby! Wait,” he called again.
He caught up to me. Of course he did. His feet were the size of Paul Bunyan’s, and those boots he always wore made them even bigger.
“Why did you say that?” he asked, curling his hand around the underside of my elbow.
I stopped with a huff. “What?”
His eyes narrowed into blue slits, practically daring me to play dumb.
Well, joke was on him because, if we were playing truth or dare, I was not picking truth.
“You think I don’t care about your feelings.”
Oh, goodie gumdrops. He was picking truth.
“That’s not what I said.” I turned to go.
He yanked me back. “That’s exactly what you said.”
“Just let it go.”
“I won’t.”
“Why?” I pressed. If he wanted truth, then I’d let him have it. See how he liked being in the hot seat.
His lips snapped shut, a look of utter bafflement passing over his face. I laughed under my breath. Exactly. He was just arguing to argue.
“That’s what I thought,” I said, victorious, and snatched my arm free to storm away.
“I already made that mistake once,” he called after me.
I stopped abruptly, heart squeezing painfully. Biting into my lip, I forced myself to remain as I was and not turn around. The effort was so taxing that tears blurred my vision.
“I won’t let it go. I won’t letyougo. Not tonight. Maybe not ever. Because the last time I did, it was the biggest mistake of my life.”
I stopped breathing, all the oxygen just banished right from my lungs. Still, I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t. This moment—my heart—was too fragile.
I stood there in the frigid winter air, beneath a tree that knew all my secrets, and trembled like a leaf clinging to its last moments of life.
His boots crunched over the newly fallen snow, and my ears locked on to that sound like it was my lifeline. They faltered just behind me, and the moment swelled around us, a full-to-near-bursting feeling that overcame everything else.
“Please turn around,” Archer asked, his voice much softer than before. “Look at me, Toby.”
