Page 66
Rory remained in her pajamas the rest of the day—a festive pair of Christmas flannel pants and her favorite Haverport sweatshirt that was fraying at the seams. She kicked her feet up on the ottoman in front of the Chapman’s couch and rubbed her belly as she let out a satisfied sigh, her stomach bursting from the all-day New Orleans–inspired feast—beignets, shrimp and grits, gumbo, chive biscuits, and bananas foster that Mrs. Chapman let her flambé despite Tyler’s utter terror. True to his word, he did not judge her for the amount of powdered sugar she put on her beignets, but he didn’t hold back his laughter when she ended up coughing from the overload, some of the sugar shooting out of her nose.
Despite her full stomach, she didn’t object as Mrs. Chapman came around with spiced hot chocolates, each mug overflowing with pillowy homemade whipped cream and cinnamon sprinkled on top. She handed one to her and Tyler. “None for you, Mom?” he asked.
“Honey, I am beat, I need to go to bed.”
“It was all so delicious, Mrs. Chapman. Thank you,” Rory said.
“Anytime, sweet thing. Do you want me to take Bea up with me?” She pointed down to Bea, who was now curled up and sleeping between her and Tyler. Bea’s arms were covered in the friendship bracelets they’d made together, a few stacked up Rory’s wrists as well.
Rory just smiled, brushing a hand over Bea’s warm cheek. “Nah, let her sleep.”
“You’re a saint, child,” Mrs. Chapman teased. She looked over at Tyler. “Not too late, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The two of them sat there watching the Scat Cat sing his iconic “Everybody Wants to Be a Cat” and listening to Mr. Chapman snore softly in the recliner next to the couch.
Rory felt Tyler’s gaze on her, and heat rose in her cheeks. It was easy being around him and his family, a blissful distraction from what was brewing. But now with the house silent, the lights from the tree and the television illuminating the room, she sensed the mood shifting.
She checked her phone again, trying to escape the pull she felt toward him. But her screen was blank. Still no word from Jay.
“Hey, look. Snow,” Tyler whispered.
She glanced out the back door and noticed flurries trickling down, sticking to the porch. “Wow, I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen it snow on Christmas.”
“Want to go outside?”
She nodded, lifting Bea’s head gently and placing a pillow under it. She picked up her mug, watching Tyler sit up, his face twisted in pain as he stretched out his leg.
“Don’t,” he said, pointing at her. “Your face says it all.”
She frowned. “When my best friend is in pain, yeah, I’m going to be concerned.”
“Rory, I’m fine,” he said. “But if you insist, you can carry my hot chocolate so I can unlock the door.”
She followed his instructions, then followed Tyler as he hobbled outside into the darkness, featherlight snowflakes dancing under the moonlight. She shivered from the cold, but Tyler was already one step ahead of her, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. He laid another blanket on the deck and motioned for her to sit, holding the railing as he lowered himself down next to her with a hefty grunt.
He took his mug from her. “You going to share some of this blanket or nah?”
She nodded, and Tyler lifted a corner and cuddled underneath it. They were now sitting so close his body heat warmed up their little cocoon. She could barely breathe.
“Thanks for inviting me over today,” she whispered.
“You know you don’t need to wait for an invite, Ry,” he responded. “But I know things have been…weird between us. And I’m sorry for that. I screwed up.”
Her eyebrows furrowed. “What are you talking about? I screwed up.”
He shook his head. “I was so angry at myself for losing the game, and you were an easy target. I shouldn’t have blamed you for anything.”
“It shouldn’t have been all on you to win that game, Tyler.”
“I know,” he exhaled. “We were so close. And if I’d just—”
“Hey, look at me.”
He did, his eyes briefly scanning her lips before meeting her gaze. She ignored the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. “You still had an awesome season, even broke school records. You should feel proud of that.”
He didn’t respond, but his bashful smile warmed her down to her toes. She took a sip of her hot chocolate and stared up at the snow, a few flakes landing in her hair. Her mind was racing as she tried thinking through the right way to say what she needed to say, to tell him the truth about what she knew.
