Fitz would make it perfect
The next day is exactly the whirlwind I described to Liam. Plus, I spend an extra-long time in the shower trying to wash the green dye out. Spoiler: it does not come out. My mom is going overboard decorating the house with mistletoe. She puts it everywhere: over the front door, on the ceiling in the beginning, middle, and end of the hallway, over the staircase, and, her personal favorite, right in front of the fridge. “Everyone stands there,” she says with a mischievous grin.
“Mom, why are you going wild with the mistletoe this year?”
“In honor of your book.”
“You’ve read it?” I ask.
“Everyone’s read it,” she deadpans.
This is kind of true. The whole imagined scandal with Liam got my book even more attention. Sales continue to increase, which should thrill me, except I haven’t heard from Liam all day.
I try not to let this drag me down. But it’s always in the back of my head and then I’m annoyed with myself for letting thoughts about a guy keep me from enjoying time with my family. I probably haven’t heard from him because he’s with his family. They’re probably all at Tahoe now. I recall that we shared locations right before Charlie and Jane’s wedding. I abruptly stop decorating the tree with Gretta and my mom and check Liam’s location. I stare at my phone for a long time. I must be looking at it wrong. I sit on the couch’s armrest because the cushions are covered with boxes of ornaments.
Liam’s circle is in Ames, Iowa. I look again. Maybe, I mistook him for Gretta or Tilly. Or perhaps something is wrong with my phone. There’s no way he’s at our house. The doorbell rings.
It can’t be him. Still, I pick up a large silver bauble to check my reflection. I’m wearing sweats, I have no makeup on, and my hair is an unpleasant shade of green.
I text him.
Lettie
Are you in Iowa?
Liam
Open your front door??
Lettie
My hair is green
Liam
Green hair is hot!
I stare at my phone. I stare at the door.
Liam
I’m freezing out here
It’s starting to snow
Two knocks on the door. The sound gets me moving. I leap up and open the door. Liam Darcy stands on my doorstep in jeans, sturdy boots, and the same Icelandic sweater he wore to the Christmas party—snowflakes adorn his rumpled brown hair. Behind him, I spy Jane’s Audi.
“Liam! Did you drive here?”
He steps closer and whispers in my ear, “Merry Christmas, Lettie.”
“But you said . . . you would never drive . . . ”
He puts a hand on my waist. “I said I wouldn’t make that drive for love or money. But I was wrong.” He shrugs “Because I love you Lettie. I love you enough to make that drive a thousand times over.”
“Oh, Liam.” I throw my arms around him. In a flash, his cool lips are on mine, and he’s kissing me as if his life depends on making me happy, and he’s doing an excellent job. My eyes are closed, but inside, I’m lighting up like a Christmas tree. I kiss him back as he pulls me tight against his body. I slip a hand up his sweater on the warm, bare skin of his back. I’ve never been so happy and yet wanted so much more.
“Lettie’s rich boyfriend is here!” Gretta calls out from the doorway. We break apart, since our kissing was quickly becoming more than PG. I scowl at Gretta. Liam gives her a cool head nod. “You two didn’t even bother with the mistletoe Mom conveniently put up.” She points above the door.
