The weakness in my knees and churning in my stomach make me wonder if Idowant to know. My mind is filling in the blanks he’s leaving, or it’s trying to. But every time my instinct whispersThis is what you want, I push the thought away. This isLevi, not a stranger I can flirt with or even date who will cost me nothing if it doesn’t work out. This is a lifelong friendship.
But there’s no doubt what I’m going to do here. “I wanted cocoa anyway.”
“Man, I’m glad it’s working out for both of us.”
I shove the dustpan at him and stomp into the house.
Chapter Thirteen
Levi
Ismellthewarmhot chocolate as soon as I walk in. I leave my snow boots beside Taylor’s and unbundle myself, hanging everything on the hooks by the door. In the summer, they bristle with bright beach towels. Now it’s my winter parka beside Taylor’s puffy red one.
I spent the last half hour pulling my arguments together. This is going to be tricky. It shouldn’t be. I wasn’t kidding Taylor when I told her things had become obvious to me. Maybe in hindsight. Maybe later than they should have. But I see it now.
I have to make her see it, and she doesn’t want to.
I walk into the kitchen, soaking up the warmth of the house as the furnace does its thing. Taylor is stirring a pot and staring at the wall.
“Hey.”
She blinks at me. “Cocoa is done.”
“My mom called again.” She tips the pan to pour the cocoa into the first mug, and as the steam curls up, I can almost taste the richness. “She got hold of Jon Egbert, and he said there’s a pretty good chance the road will get cleared tomorrow morning. He’ll come by later and let us know for sure.”
“That’s good news.” Taylor’s shoulders drop a fraction of an inch, and I realize how tightly she’s been holding herself.
Not at all like the warm and willing woman molded against me this morning. Time to find that Taylor again. “It is. With the generator running and your car dug out, we really do have a wide-open snow day in front of us because I know for a fact you don’t have anything else to do.”
She finishes filling the second mug and scoops them both up, handing mine to me as she leaves the kitchen.
“Running away?” I tease.
“Yeah, to my top secret lair by the living room fire. Hope you can’t find me.”
I trail after her, settling cross-legged next to her on the blankets still on the floor. I take another sip of my cocoa. “This is like being hugged from the inside.”
A smile tugs at her lips, one I can tell she tried to fight.
“Everyone kept telling me that Croatia has the best hot chocolate in the world, and I tried it. Several times. It’s good,” I say. “But all I could think was, they obviously haven’t tried Taylor Bixby’s.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
We sip our cocoa in silence. I can sense her waiting, wanting to know what I have to say, but Taylor is going to have to ask. I can only push her so far. She’ll have to set the pace here.
When my cocoa is half gone, she says, “Tell me what was so obvious.”
“You know how people will say they married their best friend?”
She shoots me a guarded look. “Yes.”
“Do you think they mean they became best friends during their marriage? Or they were best friends and then it grew from there?”
She answers by taking another big drink of her cocoa, so big I know she can’t actually be gulping it. She’s keeping her mug up to hide her face and play for time.
“I always thought they meant they became best friends after marrying,” I tell her. “But now I’m thinking not. Maybe it’s the other way.”
