“I—” he repeated. His hand flexed around Jennifer’s, his smile solidifying as he addressed the crowd once again. “Anyway! Great job, everyone. Enjoy the free booze. I gotta…”
He trailed off, uncharacteristically uncharismatic as he detangled himself from Jennifer and headed into the crowd to a chorus of clapping and an enthusiastic whoop from Hazel, who was busy getting wiped clean with Daisy’s napkins.
“We should go,” Daisy told Hazel, ears flicking nervously as she looked over at Emma. “Right?”
She was asking if Emma needed backup for this inevitable interaction. Emma thought about telling them to stay. Then she made the stupid decision of looking at Arthur again, his gaze intent on her as he made his way through the crowd. A few people tried to talk to him, but he gave them a distracted grin and kept going.
“Yep,” Emma croaked.
Daisy pulled Hazel away, still wiping eggnog cream off her hands.
Arthur stopped in front of her, somehow managing to look small despite his height, mane, and giant shoulders.
“Emma,” he said. “You came! I heard you couldn’t make it.”
“I’m only here for a while,” Emma said, searching desperately for a lie. “I, uh, have a headache.”
“Oh.” Arthur twisted toward the kitchen. “I can get you something.”
“No, no!” She caught his arm before he could go running off. “It’s fine. I have eggnog.”
He looked down at her hand. She dropped it, skin tingling with the feel of the sleek fabric. She missed the anger. The first few times she’d seen him in town, her fury had been so big it blotted everything out. Now all the emotions she’d been suppressing were flooding to the surface. Standing in front of him felt like an exercise in yearning, every inch of her wanting to take his arm again. Step closer. Run her fingers through the fur over his cheeks, tug him down in front of everybody.
“I thought you’d be on the phone with your parents,” Arthur said, jolting her out of her useless daydream. “Setting up the Christmas tree.”
“Already done.” Emma smiled, trying and failing not to think about her mother’s matter-of-fact voice as she told her that Arthur had cried. She couldn’t help but picture him in his mid-twenties, alone in what would have to be a mansion by that point. His tears rolling down his furry cheeks as he sat in the remains of a New Year’s party, mumbling down the phone to his ex-girlfriend’s parents.
“What about you?” Emma asked. “Any Christmas traditions?”
Arthur shrugged. “Not really. Any that I had, I had because of you.”
Emma’s traitorous heart spasmed in her chest. Before she could say anything to that, Hazel came squeezing through the crowd. Other than specks of cream on her shirt, she was completely clean.
“I’m not interrupting,” she insisted. “I’m just leaving, and I have to say goodbye first. Bye! And Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas,” Emma replied, thankful for the interruption from Arthur’s big, sad, golden eyes. “I’ll drop off your gift tomorrow.”
Hazel clasped her cream-streaked chest. “That’s so nice.Thankyou. I really will try harder next year.”
“You try hard enough already,” Emma assured her. “I really appreciate it.”
Daisy appeared at Hazel’s shoulder, tugging gently. Hazel let her drag her away, both of them waving as they vanished into the crowd.
“That was sweet,” Arthur said. “She didn’t seem scared of you at all.”
Emma sighed. “Probably because I apologized for being a hard-ass. Explained some stuff. I’m trying that whole…openthing.”
“That’s great!” Arthur said, so loud that several people looked over. He coughed, lowering his voice. “That’s really great, Emma.”
There was an annoyed little voice inside her telling her she was being patronized. But it was hard to believe when he was looking at her like this, his tail swishing and then stilling, then swishing again, like he had to continuously remind himself to cut it out.
Emma closed her eyes. She needed to make an exit soon before she did something stupid.
“So,” she said. “Flying out soon?”
“Tonight. After this.”
“Excited to get home?”
