Fuck.
I walk back in behind him, and Charlie senses the shift between Arran and me as soon as I step into the room, everyone else hasn’t.
“Are you okay?” he asks me, pulling me into a hug and kissing my temple.“I overheard Arran and Chance on the phone,” I tell him.
“And let me guess, Arran didn’t like the conversation the two of you had.”
I shake my head. “He’s not happy with me.”
“You probably caught him off-guard, I’m sure once he’s processed it, everything will go back to normal.”
“You think?” I ask hopefully.
“I’m sure of it. Now, come join me at the pool table so we can demolish your brothers.”
Charlie tugs me into the warmth of the great room, the laughter, the clacking pool balls, the fire popping in the hearth. Everyone’s loud and happy and wrapped in various Sinclair tartans, and I’m standing here feeling like I’ve stepped in something I didn’t mean to.
Arran doesn’t look at me once. Not when Callum hands him a drink. Not when Tavish tells some wild story about nearly being attacked by a highland cow. Not even when Rowan announces he just beat Charlie at pool and the whole room erupts in loud, dramatic groans.
It stings.
And maybe Charlie is right, maybe Arran just needs time. I just thought I was helping. But as midnight approaches and everyone gathers for the countdown, that distance sits like a stone in my chest.
TEN …
NINE …
EIGHT …
Charlie’s arms wrap around my waist from behind, his chin on my shoulder, grounding me.
FIVE …
FOUR …
THREE …
Arran laughs at something Tavish says, head tipping back, cheeks flushed.
TWO …
ONE …
“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”
Champagne pops. Everyone screams and kisses. Charlie grabs my face and kisses me breathless.
And across the room, Arran’s smiling with everyone else, but when his eyes land on me, they quickly dart away.
It’s fine. He just needs space. Tomorrow will be better.
At least … that’s what I tell myself.
The weekend goes by in a blur, and it’s over too quickly. Yesterday was perfect. Snowball fights, movies, leftovers, matching pajamas, Davina force-feeding everyone shortbread like she was preparing us for hibernation. The boys taught Charlie and me a Highland card game I still don’t understand, and Rowan insisted we all take a ‘fresh air walk’ that cures hangovers, apparently, but nearly killed me. It was family in a way I’ve never had.
But today … today we leave. We must move on to our next stop, which is skiing in Switzerland with Charlie’s family. When we come down the sweeping staircase with our bags, the whole Sinclair clan is already waiting in the great hall. Coats on. Boots laced. Coffee cups steaming. Callum is driving us to the airport today because he is leaving, too, he’s giving us a lift to Switzerland.Who is going to say no to a private plane?He is staying with his friends in Zermatt, but we are staying in St. Moritz, which are nowhere near each other. However, thefamous Glacier Express train goes from Zermatt to St. Moritz in the morning, which is one of the most scenic train routes in the world. Charlie thought it would be kind of cool to do, and when he showed me the pictures, it looked like a fabulous experience, even if it takes all day.
Davina rushes forward first. “My boys. I’m going to miss you,” she coos, wrapping her arms around me in a motherly hug before she does the same to Charlie. “Don’t be strangers.”
