“How on earth are we supposed to move on with our lives after that movie?” Lena sniffles as she sets her head on my chest and floods my senses with her peppermint-and-chocolate scent.
Gary watches us from the other couch, a knowing smirk on his lips. I shoot him a frown and a subtle headshake, trying to silently scold him for whatever thoughts are going on inside that brain of his.
Joe and Gary are the only people in the world who know about my feelings for Lena. In their nonjudgmental but thoroughly annoying way, they have teased me about it for two years. And if I’m gauging their expressions correctly, they think the two of us are adorable together.
Their mysterious cousin, Patrick, doesn’t seem to exist today, but my will to question them is nonexistent after the evening I had.
“Might be time to check the bridge and see if the ice has melted,” Lena says, patting my thigh and pulling herself out from under my arm.
A lead weight sinks straight into my stomach.
Reality.
It’s been haunting the back of my mind, looming there for every moment I spent with Lena, and I finally have to face it.
We’re going back to her house soon, even though I sure as hell don’t want to.
I spent a lot of time wishing I could be back with them. But now that I have Lena in my arms, I’m content to stay here.
She stands from the couch in Joe’s navy sweatpants and a baggy sweater that says HO, HO, HO.
Fresh faced, loose curls, pink cheeks.
She’s never looked prettier.
“I’m so glad you joined us,” Joe tells her at the door, kissing Lena’s cheek and then mine.
“Let’s make it a tradition,” Lena proclaims, hugging Gary. “We meet up next year for more waffles from this guy”—she pinches my side—“and more Colin Firth movies.” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively, and everyone laughs.
But in the car, as we drive to her mom’s house, no one is laughing.
Instead, there’s a staggering silence threatening to strangle me as we approach the bridge.
Maybe by some twist of fate, the blazing sun will have never shone on the icy bridge today. It’s only early afternoon; maybe there’s a chance we can’t cross it.
Gliding my hand over her thigh, I splay my fingers like they belong there and imagine a world in which they do.
If the bridge is still icy, we could go back to the cabin. We can strip out of these clothes and sink back into our lust-filled haze, her perfect body against mine as we cling to each other.
But minutes later, I discover that fate is not on our side, because the bridge is clear, the road wet with melted ice.
Lena lets out a long sigh and intertwines her fingers with mine for the rest of the drive.
I pull the car safely into the empty spot in the driveway and turn it off. The air is heavy as we both try to come to terms with what happens next.
And the truth is, I have no fucking clue.
“Keeping my hands off you is going to be torture,” I finally admit.
She sighs a sad laugh. “No eye-fucking each other either,” she says as she unbuckles her seat belt. Her voice bubbles with sarcasm as she adds, “I know I look fantastic in these sweats, but you’ll have to resist the temptation.”
My palm scrapes over my stubbled cheek. “You’re always a temptation, little menace.” I scan over her body. “You could be in a tarp and I’d be dying to unwrap you like a present.”
She swallows hard, her caramel gaze flickering with heat. But when her attention moves to the house out the windshield, her skin pales. “I don’t know how to do this.”
I don’t either.Today, tomorrow, next Christmas. I have no idea what I’m going to do.
“I think we just have to pretend like everything is normal,” I tell her, trying to keep my voice even. “We act like I slept on Gary and Joe’s couch.”
