He clears his throat, then crouches down in the aisle. “I have some things I’d really like to say to you, Chloe,” he murmurs. “And I’d appreciate the chance.”
If I weren’t on a school bus, if we were still standing in those fields, I’d probably be the exact opposite of the calm demeanor I’m trying to put forward. I’d probably shout at him, something to the effect of “Why now?Why not then?”
Because back then? I loved the man in front of me with everything I had. He was my person. The one I could be myself with, always. We talked about the future all the time, until he switched gears quicker than a bank robber trying to escape a heist.
Maybe a conversation would heal old wounds, but it wouldn’t change how different we are now.
His whole world is acres of evergreens and a deeply ingrained legacy. Mine is an apartment in an old, temperamental building over a studio with a leak and a little girl who needs more than my heart can promise.
I don’t need a grand gesture. I need someone who’s reliable and isn’t afraid of the hard things. Someone who can stand by me, dance in the kitchen, and then turn around and help with the dishes.
No one is signing up for that, and I can’t blame them. It’s not romantic. Maybe if I keep repeating this, over and over, my heart will take notice.
“Aiden—” I start, swallowing the lump in my throat.
“She’s free tomorrow.”
I cut my gaze over to Abby, giving her an “I’m going to kill you”look as discreetly as I can while still getting the point across.
His eyes flick to her, then back to me, a twinkle flashing in them. I know that look, and it’s as dangerous now as it was then.
“Is she now?”
“Sheis right here.” I huff. “My last mini-session is at six. I can meet you at Storywood Sweets after they’re finished.”
Questions flicker across his face, but he doesn’t ask any of them. He just nods, rises, then pats the seat in front of me like it’s a done deal. “See you tomorrow, then?”
I nod. “Tomorrow. Around six-thirty.” The words leave my mouth before I’ve decided if they’re even a good idea. They’ll barely have time to get out of the studio before I’m right behind them. “But give me a little wiggle room on the time in case we go over.”
“Will do. See you then, Chloe.” He winks at my best friend before heading back up the aisle. “Thanks, Abby.”
Now I have questions, starting with why in the world I’m jealous of that stupid wink. He’s allowed to wink at anyone he wants.
But why is he winking atmy best friend?
He jogs off the bus, then waits in the parking lot as we leave, his eyes steady on me.
The bus lurches forward, but his gaze feels like a tether, like the town itself has looped a ribbon between us and tied it in a loose knot.
“What was that?” I ask, as soon as we turn on the road that will take us back to town.
She shrugs. “I didn’t say thatIdidn’t know them. We used to go to the farm every Christmas to get our tree. Everyone did. We’ve known each other forever.”
A flush creeps up my neck.
That’s a self-evident answer, and I’m ashamed I immediately pounced on jealousy instead of logic. Aiden’s sudden reappearance in my life is messing with my brain, and it’s not cute.
“Of course,” I say. “That makes perfect sense.”
“You know, his family always made the farm look like the North Pole. His dad dressed up as Santa, and his mom was Mrs. Claus. It was the most magical place you’ve ever seen,” she says quietly. “People used to say even if you left their place without a tree, you’d still go home with hope and a little Christmas magic.”
“Notactualmagic,” I say.
But then I’m taken aback by her nod.
“Yes,actualmagic. My grandma always said that the Ridge has its own kind of enchantment and somehow the Wheelers were part of it.”
Funny that I moved from one town filled to the brim with magic to another that carries a different kind. And that I’d fallen in love with a man who’s right at the center of it.
