Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 58211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Asher stares at me like he’s angry, interested, maybe curious, or thinking about me being all over him instead. I made a joke about my cocoa being spiked, but I’m wondering if it actually was.
We sit at a small table overlooking the quaint backyard.
“I’ve saved the tree until last,” Brianna mutters, glancing at her son. Asher stares out the window. He seems fixated on a small bush outside, the branches threadbare due to the weather. “I wanted to do it as a family.”
“I hope you don’t mind me intruding,” I say, smiling.
Brianna hesitates, replying to me but still looking at her son. “No … of course not.” She turns and looks at the small bush as well. “The yard could use some work.”
“I think it looks lovely, Brianna,” I say, trying to keep the conversation flowing.
Brianna stares at the brush. It’s like they’re both fixated on it. I don’t understand what’s going on, but something definitely is. There’s a suddenly uncomfortable energy in the air.
“Have you already bought the ornaments and the other decorations for the tree?” I ask.
“Yeah, they’re in the living room.”
“Isn’t that good, Asher?” I say. “Everything’s ready for us.”
When he doesn’t reply, I touch his arm lightly. It’s a last-ditch option. He looks as if he’s lost in a trance.
He flinches and looks down at my hand. A look of gratitude crosses his features instead of anger at my touch, almost like he wants his Snowflake to keep touching him and do it in various circumstances with added meaning. Okay, that train of though got out of hand quickly.
“What?” he mutters.
“Your mom’s very well prepared. After our cocoa, we can start decorating the tree.”
He stands up. “I-I’m sorry, Mom. I can’t do this.”
He suddenly rushes for the door without a look back.
“It’s fine,” Brianna murmurs, but she’s got tears in her eyes as she stares down into her cocoa. “I don’t deserve it.”
She cuts a sad figure as she sits there, consumed with sadness.
“Let me talk to him.”
“It’s true. He doesn’t owe me anything. He’s already given so much.”
“Let me try.”
I find Asher pacing in front of the car, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Are you ready to go?” he snaps.
“Asher, just take a moment. Take a breath.”
He keeps pacing. I’m forced to touch him again to make him stop, but in reality, am I? Forced? I squeeze onto his arm, feeling his firm body through his sleeve.
“I know this is difficult, but you agreed to do this for a reason,” I say softly.
“You’re right, but if just looking at a bush can make me feel like a kid again …”
“I don’t get it.”
“When I was a kid, she dug up a bush from a neighbor’s yard and used dental floss to tie on a gas station ornament. It brought back a bunch of memories.”
“I’m sorry, Asher. I’m not saying you have to do this or need to be here, but I think you want to be here. I think if you leave now, you’ll regret this. Your mom is trying as hard as she can. It’s not my place to tell you to forgive her, but I think you want to try.”
“What makes you say that?”
I gasp when his hands slid around my waist. He pulls me in close, staring into my eyes. I’m surprised the light dappling of snow around us doesn’t instantly melt with how hot I feel.
“Can you read my mind now, Snowflake?” He seems to realize what he’s done because he quickly steps back and lets me go. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to be,” I whisper, his warm touch lingering.
His brief touch was the most tempting thing that’s ever happened to me.
“If I’m wrong, we can leave, but I don’t think I am.”
He rubs his hands up and down his face, full of wild energy. “No, you’re right. We’ll go back inside. Just take the lead, okay?”
“I will. I’m proud of you.”
CHAPTER 8
ASHER
Iput a few ornaments on the tree, but mostly, I watch Mom and Snowflake work. Outside, when I almost left, something feral came over me. I grabbed her hips and pulled her to me. I was this close to kissing her. She was being so supportive, so affectionate. I know I would’ve claimed her lips if it wasn’t for the specter of her brother watching, judging.
“We need somebody tall to put the star on the tree,” Mom says, the cautious hope in her voice breaking my heart.
Fake it until you make it. I smile, taking the star from her and putting it on top.
“A little to the left,” Mom says, laughing.
“No, to the right …” Holly laughs.
I put the star on, then turn to them. “Happy, ladies?”
“Yes,” Mom says firmly, squeezing my hand briefly before letting go. “Very happy, Asher. Thank you for this. It means a lot.”
“Okay, Mom. I need to head out, but I’ll see you soon.”