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I thought about you the whole time. Which, honestly, made the two hours go way faster than they would have otherwise. I was wondering what you were up to and if you were thinking about me too. My guess was that you were probably in your grandpa’s woodshop, working on something with him. I like to picture you there. I don’t know why. Maybe you were just snoozing in bed with a book splayed on your chest. How’s that for honesty? (Also, when have I ever made you think otherwise? I always want your most honest self—I love how blunt you are.)

I wish I could say that my date was the only time I’ve thought about you, but gosh, your last letter is burned in my mind. The first time I read what you wrote, I think I blushed for three days straight (and that never happens). If you memorized my collarbone, then what would you do if I sent something else? Would you memorize other parts of me, too?

I don’t know how many times I read it, but at some point, one night, I ended up falling asleep and woke up to your letter on the pillow next to me and your words in my memory, as if I’d dreamed of you the whole night. You know that feeling when you wake up and it feels like your dream really happened? It was just like that. I woke up and patted the place next to me, sure I’d find you there. But my hand only grazed your letter. I suppose, in a way, it was almost as if you had slept beside me. But you didn’t. Because if you had, I wouldn’t have felt so lonely.

I can’t believe Christmas is already here. And that I won’t be hearing from you for the next two and a half weeks. Not looking forward to that. What are you doing for Christmas? Do you have any special traditions with your grandparents? First of all: Do you like Christmas? Who am I kidding? Who doesn’t love Christmas? (Please don’t be a grinch.)

This year is a bit different for us. With Mom sick, she won’t be able to decorate the house with us or go pick up a tree like she used to. So it’ll just be Riley and me, but I’m still excited about it. I want the house to look good and festive for Mom so she feels like everything is just like every other year. Riley will be cooking (don’t worry, I already ordered plan B from a caterer) and I’m in charge of getting our mom’s presents. Have you gone to a store during Christmas time? It’s lawless. People are crazy, and I’m scared every time I go. Lucky for me, I’m a morning person, so I usually succeed in avoiding the big crowds.

Anyway, this isn’t the Christmas we would have hoped for, but the three of us are still celebrating like we usually do, so that’s what matters, right? My only wish is that I’d get to spend a few more with Mom before I have to say goodbye.

Since I won’t hear from you before, I wish you a Merry Christmas, Oli, and a wonderful time with your grandparents.

I’ll miss you so much.

Your Charlee

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Shop local during Christmas! Holidays are a crucial time for small business owners

Chapter Seventeen

CARDIGAN

Charlee

“Oliver?”

I wait behind the bathroom door for a response. I’ll even take a sound, something, anything that would let me know he’s alive and well. All the proof I have is his backpack lying against the bed, his jacket on top of it.

There’s a rustle behind the door. “Yes, I’m here.” I quirk an eyebrow at the strain in his voice. “I’m in the shower. I’ll be right out.”

There’s no sound of water whatsoever.

“Okay. Well, I’m having dinner with Emma in the common room if you’re looking for me.”

“Sounds good!”

I close the front door and head to the main building. I used to pride myself on knowing Oliver like the back of my hand, but his sudden shift this afternoon has left me wondering what happened to make him run away like that.

He’s not your problem, Charlee. I groan as I increase my pace, tucking my head into my jacket against the evening chill. He’s not. But it doesn’t stop me from worrying. This internal war will drive me over the edge. If only I weren’t so damn stubborn, so damn proud. Maybe then I’d be able to get over my fears and stop oscillating between hot and cold when it comes to him. But every kindness he offers triggers my fears. Every time he brings out a side of me I haven’t seen in years, I panic and revert back to mean-girl behavior.

When I arrive at the main building, the room echoes with chatter from amazed travelers and nature lovers. I locate Emma, who waves at me while holding a burger.

I plop my ass down on the seat across from her, grabbing a fry from her plate. She swats my hand away. “Excuse you! I don’t share food. Especially when it’s this fucking good.” She takes a chomp out of her burger.

“Fine.” I laugh. “I’m not that hungry anyway. Where is everyone?”

Emma looks over my shoulder. I turn around and catch Trevor talking with big gestures and laughing his head off. Everybody around him, Axel and Nick included, drinks up his words as if he were God himself.

I roll my eyes and turn back to Emma, who sports a similar exasperated look. “Are they always like this with him?” I nod toward Axel and Nick.

“Yep. Two good little boys who just love to do and say everything Trevor does or says.”

“How can you stand working with them?”

She shrugs, her black hair shimmying with the movement. “You get used to it. I usually tune out the noise, you know? What they say doesn’t affect me because it doesn’t reach me. You learn to toughen up real fast in this industry when you’re a woman.”