Page 173 of Faking the Goal

I know exactly what that unfinished sentence was going to be.

No, I couldn't possibly.

No, you don't have to.

No, I'll only be in the way.

It seems like "no" is always Taylor's first instinct whenever someone tries to do something for her. She did the same thing when Mom offered her the job, and I'm starting to realize just how uncomfortable she gets when she's on the receiving end of anything she hasn't earned or paid for herself.

Knowing what I do about the way she grew up, I guess I shouldn't be surprised.

Still, watching her hesitate over something as simple as spending Christmas with us puts that familiar ache back in my chest.

I want her there.

And judging by the way Mom is looking at her, I'm definitely not the only one.

Mom closes the distance between them and rests both hands lightly on Taylor's shoulders.

"You'll come, won't you?" Her smile softens even further. "It would make me very happy."

Then, with perfect timing, she glances at me over Taylor's shoulder.

"And I think it would make my son very happy too." One brow lifts teasingly. "Wouldn't it, Ken-chan?"

I don't even hesitate.

"Yeah, Trouble."

Taylor looks at me.

"It'll just be Mom and me this year." I shrug lightly. "Miho's spending Christmas in Paris, so... it'll be quieter than usual."

A small smile tugs at my mouth.

"I think it'd be nice if you were there."

Taylor looks between us, still visibly uncertain, and Mom's expression suddenly brightens.

"Oh!" She claps her hands together as though she's just remembered something vitally important. "And as an added bonus, I'll show you all of Ken-chan's baby albums."

I narrow my eyes.

"...Ma."

She completely ignores me.

"The chubby cheeks." She sighs dreamily. "The little bowl haircut."

I let out a long, defeated groan and drop my head into my hand.

"Please don't."

Taylor presses her lips together, clearly trying—and failing—not to laugh.

Mom gasps dramatically. "Oh! And the bath pictures—"

"Ma!"