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“That’s so great,” Shira said, and she wasn’t bullshitting him, either. She sounded more thrilled than his own father had when he told him over one of their now-weekly dinners.

“Yeah,” he continued, a little too loudly, so that she wouldn’t have the opportunity to ask. “A lot of people think that QA is like playing video games all day, but that’s a common misconception. Your job is to find bugs in the software, so really you’re just sitting there trying to break the game. Like, sometimes I’ll be in the same virtual room for hours or even days, running into walls and clicking different buttons on things and trying all sorts of weird stuff during battles, seeing if anything gets messed up.”

“That’s great,” Shira said once more. It was pretty much all she’d said this whole conversation. Because he was blabbering on about himself like an idiot.

“How about you? How are you doing? I heard you finished your paintings and the show is scheduled soon,” he said. She smiled at him, her real smile again, and he felt a bubble of hope rise in his chest, knowing that they were okay. They’d reset. Who knew what might happen this year after the party?

“Oh, yeah,” she said, and then she turned to greet someone walking up behind her. Leo hadn’t even noticed them; he’d been too focused on the way the icy wind brought out the blush in her cheeks and the way tendrils of her dark hair escaping from her hat made her look like the snow queen in that fairy tale. Honestly, she was wasted on the LA weather. “Finally, there you are.”

“Had to take a quick work call,” the person—the guy—said, and then Leo’s heart plummeted to his feet because this guy pressed his lips to Shira’s, and she kissed him back. Neptune let out a low whuff, and for one moment he wasn’t entirely proud of, Leo wished he’d adopted one of those retired fighting dogs instead of a failed hunting beagle.

When Shira and this guy broke apart, breath steaming from their lips in the cold air, her smile as she turned back to Leo was almost apologetic. “Leo, this is William,” she said. “My boyfriend. William, my childhood friend Leo.”

William extended a hand for Leo to shake. Maybe Leo was just out of practice with handshakes, but William’s seemed too firm, meant to break some fingers. “Dr. William Bettany,” he said, his voice higher than Leo would’ve expected for someone taller than him. “Nice to meet you.”

Shira’s boyfriend must have hailed from somewhere warmer than here, because he was bundled up like he was about to embark upon an expedition to the North Pole. Beneath the fluffy sheep’s ears of the boyfriend’s hat and above the wool scarf cloaking him up to his lips, Leo could see that he was fine boned and hollow cheeked, like a model or distant cousin of the British royal family, with pale eyelashes Leo could only pick out because of the setting sun’s rays; he was definitely older than them, maybe thirty or so, which made sense if he was already a doctor. “Nice to meet you, too,” Leo said, pulling his hand away before he could try and smash William’s fingers back. “What kind of doctor are you? I have a cousin who’s a urologist.”

Neptune stepped up to William’s foot and sniffed. Piss on him, Leo thought, but of course Neptune just stared up with a goofy dog grin. William bent down and gave Neptune a two-fingered scratch that wasn’t unkind but that made Leo wonder if the man had ever petted a dog in his life. “I’m not a medical doctor,” he said, sounding vaguely annoyed. “I have a PhD in art history.”

“Ah,” Leo said. “Far more useful.”

“Leo,” Shira said, and it was amazing how his name could sound like a reprimand in one ear and a friendly call to attention in the other. “William is a curator at the Los Angeles Museum of Art. In the modern art division. He’s going to run the place one day.”

“Wow,” Leo said. Be nice. Shira doesn’t owe you anything. Your friendship is important to you. “That’s cool. How did you guys meet?”

“A museum gala,” Shira said. She linked her arm through William’s. He smiled fondly down at her, or Leo thought he did behind the scarf. “I don’t usually get invited to those things, but my boss couldn’t make it and insisted I go in his place.”

A neighbor jogged by on the street, her breath puffing out in white clouds overhead. Leo and Shira automatically waved a hand in greeting. “That was lucky,” he said. “How long have you been dating now?”

“Six months,” said William.

“Seven and a half,” said Shira. “Come on, let’s get to the Colatrellas’ house. They’re doing this whole light show synced with music when it gets dark.”

“The joys of the suburbs,” William intoned, then looked at Leo as if he expected him to laugh. He didn’t. Not just because he hated that this guy had Shira nestled into his side but because he didn’t think it was funny. A city guy mocking the suburbs. How original. Leo liked how excited people got about dressing up their houses for the holidays—their individual displays might not rival whatever big fancy light shows they had in the city, but they were charming all the same. “All right. Come on.”

“See you at the party?” Shira said to Leo. “You know when it is, right? Later this week?”

Leo took a deep breath. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Great.” And they were off, walking arm in arm, Shira pointing out the different houses and telling him about the quirks of the people who lived within.

Leo watched them go until they were gone, then exhaled the deep breath he’d taken earlier. He needed to breathe. That was probably why he was a little dizzy.

As soon as they turned the corner to the cul-de-sac, a neighbor’s red-doored McMansion and its fleet of glowing reindeer blocking Leo from view, Shira puffed her cheeks with relief. “Okay, that went way better than I expected,” she said. “Though, honestly, I have no idea how I expected it to go. I’m glad to get it over with, at least.”

“He’s the one you had a fight with last year?” William’s eyes roved over the house’s plastic reindeer, then the big blow-up Santas (one normal, one vacation Santa in a bathing suit and snorkel) in front of the house next door. His face betrayed nothing, but Shira’s stomach couldn’t help but clench self-consciously. She’d already met his parents at their huge, gleaming, all-white home in the Hollywood Hills, where they’d served her a gluten-free dinner that had been cooked by their private chef and cleaned up by a woman William’s mother described as Marta, practically a member of the family, except that members of the family didn’t generally wear uniforms or eat dinner in a different room. Shira hadn’t been to his family’s house around the holidays, but she suspected their holiday decorations were limited to maybe a string or two of twinkling all-white lights. Perhaps a tasteful, local-plant-life-based wreath.

“Yeah.” Shira had told William that much but not about the kiss. Partially because she didn’t need her new boyfriend knowing about everything she did with her body in the past but also because…well, even after a year, she still wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about it.

“Well, I’m glad it all worked out,” William said. She heard something buzz. He swore as he pulled out his phone. “Shit, I have to take this.”

“Again?” Shira hated the whine in her voice.

“It’ll just be a minute.” He stepped away, put the phone to his ear. “This is Dr. Bettany.”

It was always just a minute. A minute that turned into minutes, plural, that turned into hours. Shira let out a long, low breath as she watched the Colatrellas’ lights blink on and begin playing a spirited version of “Sleigh Ride.” Almost automatically, she pulled out her phone to take a quick video of the lights to send to Danica, Nora, and Ellery in the group chat—a little Christmas spirit for their day. They’d appreciate it in a way William probably wouldn’t. Maybe it was better William was off talking to the head curator at the museum or the assistant director of modern art at Sotheby’s or one of his many artists whose hands he needed to hold. He’d probably just nod and smile at the light show and think about how tacky it was.

Danica had warned her. They’d gone to the bar to debrief after their last double date, Shira with William and Danica with her new flame, a waiter-slash-actor (in LA, that slash almost went without saying). First they’d dissected the actor, debated whether his wonky nose made him more or less likely to succeed in the business (they settled on more but only if he started pursuing character actor roles over leading man roles). Then the conversation had turned to William.