The wrapping paper comes away to reveal a book—a beautiful leather-bound edition of my favorite novel,Pride and Prejudice. It’s the same one I pointed out in the bookstore window display while we were walking downtown. I didn’t think he was even listening that intently.
Inside the cover, he’s written an inscription:
Chey - Some things are worth more than they appear. Looking forward to finding out how this story ends. -Dylan
I look up at him, my heart in my throat. His eyes are fixed on me, his gaze intense and sincere in a way that makes my breath catch.
My phone buzzes again in my pocket, but I ignore it. Right now, in this moment, with Dylan looking at me like that, Garrett’s messages couldn’t matter less.
But as the gift exchange continues around us, doubt creeps back in.
What does Dylan really want?
What do I want?
And why does everything suddenly feel so complicated?
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dylan
What was I thinking?
I’ve been kicking myself all day for that stupid “just friends” comment at breakfast.
The way she’s sitting right now, alone on the couch next to the Christmas tree, shoulders slightly hunched, withdrawn from the noise and bustle of my family in other parts of the house ... it makes me wonder if I’ve already screwed things up.
The living room is peaceful compared to the chaos that filled it this morning. Discarded wrapping paper has been cleared away, replaced by the neat stacks of gifts each person received.
Most of my family has dispersed—Dad’s snoring in his recliner in the den, Mom’s in the kitchen with Aunt Julie, preparing leftovers for everyone to take home, and Genna disappeared with Paul about twenty minutes ago, probably showing him her childhood bedroom upstairs.
Which leaves just me and Cheyenne.
Alone.
With all these words I need to say but can’t seem to form properly.
I watch as she shifts slightly, tucking one leg underneath her. The book I gave her sits beside her on the couch.
Did she understand what I was trying to communicate with that inscription?
Or did my stupid comment this morning erase any meaning it might have had?
“Some things are worth more than they appear. Looking forward to finding out how this story ends.”
I meant us. What’s between us—whatever it is that’s been growing these past few weeks—might be worth exploring.
But of course, my dad made that joke about the article, and I panicked when everyone was looking at us...
“We’re just friends.”
Three words I’d give anything to take back.
I’ve rehearsed this conversation a dozen times in my head since breakfast, and nearly approached Cheyenne at least three times during the day, only to chicken out at the last minute.
But I have to saysomething.
The way she’s been avoiding me all day ... the way she barely looked at me when she thanked me for the book...
