Page 51 of Exes Don't

“Uh, hi? Do I need to give you two a moment?” She gestures to where Del is still holding me in his arms.

I push off of him, and he sets me down. He’s grinning.

“Good to see you again, girlie!” He steps forward and wraps Rose in his arms, lifting her up.

Jealousy lances through me, even though I know Del’s feelings for Rose are like that of a sibling. What I wouldn’t give to wrap my arms around her and hold her that close.

She’s smiling as he sets her down, and I need to remember to thank him later. Because for as over the top as his greeting is, it has totally put her at ease. The lines on her face have fallen away, and her eyes are sparkling with good humor.

“This is quite the welcome,” she quips. “Thanks for having me.”

She holds out a slim, wrapped package and hands it to Poe.

“What’s this? You didn’t have to get me anything.”

Rose waves him off. “You’re letting me into your home and allowing me to crash your guys’ night. It’s the least I can do.” She digs into the bag at her side. “And here.” She hands out packages to each of us before slipping out of her winter coat. “I didn’t want any of you to feel left out.”

TJ greedily rips into his. Del reverently unfolds the wrapping paper. I’m the last to retrieve my gift from her, and when I do, our fingers brush. Her gaze darts to mine, and I offer her a tentative smile.

I don’t know where we stand since I shared my list of things about her. Maybe she thinks it’s creepy. Maybe she thinks it’s pathetic that I had a list at all. It was buried deep in the archives of my phone, but I never could bring myself to get rid of it.

“This is the coolest.” Poe holds up his opened gift. It’s a butterfly. A dead one. But it’s in a clear case, and its wings are fanned out and pinned back. There’s some sort of write-up on one side of it. It’s very Poe-ish.

“Anton mentioned that you like butterflies, so I took a chance.” Rose looks suddenly shy.

“I love it! It’s going to go right here.” Poe sets it next to his vintage vase. “No tossing the ball around here, you got that, Teej?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Look at this!” TJ pulls out a Super Mario Bros. figurine. “Yoshi. My favorite—and the best player, obviously.”

I gape at Rose. “How did you know that?”

“He mentioned it in the weight room.” She shrugs.

My jaw is hanging on the floor. How did she manage to find gifts for my friends—specific, perfect gifts—with minimal notice?

Del lets out a laugh. He holds up a Christmas tree ornament that’s a pair of cowboy boots, spinning it around to see it from all angles.

“To remind you of the first night you met me.” Rose bats her eyelashes in an overdone way.

She’s teasing, but I’m immediately transported to the bar, and the peanuts, and the seamless conversation, and the Garth Brooks, and nicknaming her Sammy Rose. On top of all those old memories, I’d like to think we’re making new ones—jumping in the frozen Bay of Green Bay, dancing in California. Here, tonight.

My breath hitches with anticipation about what’s going to come. It could be a disaster. It has been before. But I can’t live in fear of that. I want to go all in with Rose. Past Rose and present Rose and future Rose. I want them all.

If only I knew she wanted the same.

She’s staring at me as I delicately lift the tissue paper out of the small gift bag she brought for me. Inside is a little notebook. There’s a hand-drawn cover, and I can’t help but grin the second I see what she’s written—also, because no one else got a homemade gift.

“How the Mosquito Wins the Day,” I read. “A true story, written and illustrated by Rose Kasper. I love this.”

She exhales when I smile at her, almost as if she was afraid I wouldn’t like it. I flip though the notebook to see she’s written an elaborate and rhyming poem all about how a mosquito’s persistence helps her win her ultimate prize and sink her teeth into just the thing she’s always wanted. It’s cheeky and self-deprecating and adorable.

And I’ve never wanted to be bitten by a mosquito more in my life.

19

Chosen Family

Rose

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