About how our little charade became so real, way too fast. And now that we no longer have to put on a show for your family, I’m wondering where we go from here.
“Nothing,” I say instead, shrugging my shoulders, watching the passing cars outside of my window.
He strokes his thumb on the back of my hand, because it’s all he can do at this moment while driving us home, and my eyes drift to him. I catch the intensity in his stare, and it feels like I’ve been standing too long in the sun—heat rising up my neck, burning in my ears. I drop my gaze down to our interlocked hands, our fingers laced together so naturally, as though this is a daily occurrence.
As if I hadn’t only dreamt of this for years. I’m terrified to want Luke like this, but here I am anyway, wanting him. Wantingthiswith him.
“Is that nickname really sticking?” I give him a smirk.
“What? You don’t like it anymore?”
“I’m just wondering if there are other options to choose from.”
“Well, I thought it was fitting since you make a lot of cupcakes, and you look just as delicious.”
As if my face could get any hotter, he goes and says something like that. I raise my free hand and touch my cheeks, tucking my chin to hide my grin.
“I could call you something else that you make. Like Bagel. Or Scone? Oh, what about Macaron?”
“Stop,” I giggle, enjoying the sound of our laughter intertwined together. “I’ll stick with Cupcake.”
I reach for his phone and change the song, thankful that we’re listening to my happy playlist, and Backstreet Boys starts playing through the speakers. Luke rolls his eyes, pretending not to enjoy the song, but he sings the lyrics with me anyway.
“Remember how much fun their concert was a few years ago? I wish I could go back in time and relive that night,” I say, reflecting on the memory.
“If I could relive a moment, I would go back to that time we went to Kings Island, and that bird hit you in the chest while we were on a roller coaster.”
My smile disappears instantly. “That moment still haunts my nightmares.”
He’s laughing so hard that it’s difficult not to join him. “Your face was priceless,” he says, mimicking what my expression must have looked like.
I roll my eyes, letting go of his hand to give his shoulder a light shove, before he snatches my hand back into his. He smiles at me once he’s done laughing, and it’s nothing more than just a smile. But it gets me every time. I realize then that it’s those small moments in life, the ones you spend smiling with someone you love, that are the true moments I would love to relive.
“Thank you,” I say softly, leaning over so my head can rest on his shoulder.
“For what?” he asks.
“For this weekend.” I don’t have to go into the details. He knows everything that I’m referring to.
“Thankyou, Liv.” He tugs my hand until he can reach to give the top of it a quick kiss.
As soon as the front door opens to my house, I hear “White Christmas” by The Drifters blasting through my speakers. My living room is a complete mess. There are cat clothes scattered everywhere. The photo backdrop that Wren and Zane created is still intact next to my Christmas tree, which is currently laying down on the floor.
My mouth drops as soon as I turn and see that the kitchen counters are covered in dishes. Luke waltzes in behind me and stops in his tracks, dropping our luggage to the floor, as he takes in the mess. Wren is singing along to the song, dancing down the hallway with Buttercream in her arms, whose face is the mirror image of Grumpy Cat’s.
Wren screams when she sees Luke and me in the doorway.The sound sends Buttercream hissing and jumping down from her arms before escaping into my bedroom.
“Wren! What the?—”
“They’re here!” she shouts over her shoulder.
The bathroom door slams shut before Zane appears in front of us. “Oh, you’re here already?” He’s wearing my elbow-length yellow rubber gloves, which barely fit around his large forearms, and is carrying cleaning supplies into the kitchen. He smiles nervously at us before whipping his face to Wren to give her a disapproving frown. “Thanks for the help.”
“Time slipped away,” she says carelessly, shrugging her shoulders, and anger starts to coil inside my stomach, “Welcome home, Sis.”
“I, uh… I made you a welcome home charcuterie board,” Zane announces as he moves to my fridge, which thankfully still looks intact, and pulls out a cutting board filled with different meats, cheeses, and vegetables that are covered with plastic wrap, “I’ll just leave this here.”
Zane places the board onto the kitchen table before nervously looking over at Wren, who’s attempting to pick up the Christmas tree. This jolts Luke back to reality, and he shuts the front door before walking over to help her. My eyes study the mess once more before I let out the shriek that’s been building inside me.
