Page 30 of The Christmas Letters
“With Daisy,” I clarify, and he nods.
“With Daisy,” he repeats, “it only ended six months ago, and I’m…” He breathes out a sigh. “I guess I’m still reeling a little?” He shifts in the sand, and I watch the muscles in his face flex, then relax again.
I barely resist the urge to lift a hand and rub it across the line of his jaw. It’s yet another thing I like about dressed-down Drew. He was clean-shaven when we first met, but he looks like he hasn’t shaved in a few days, and I’m really digging the scruffier look.
“I cared about Daisy,” he says, “but in the end, I was more a way for her to pass the time. She made it clear I didn’t belong in her world, and she never had long-term plans for us.”
Understanding dawns. Daisy’s world ismyworld. I admitted as much when I mentioned I knew her from cotillion. “So you didn’t call me because you assumed I’m like Daisy?”
Drew shrugs. “I saw the car you were driving when you left Vera’s. It’s worth more than I make in a year.”
His words make me bristle, and not just because he’s comparing me to Daisy Calhoun, of all people.
“So it matters to you that my parents have money?” I’m intentional in the way I saymyparentsand not me, though technically, I wouldn’t be able to live on my own and go back to school if not for my trust fund that very muchdidcome from my parents. But I don’t want to live on their money forever, and I’m doing everything I possibly can to make sure I don’t have to.
“It matters to me that we clearly run in different circles,” Drew says. “I’ve been down this road before, and it ended too badly for me to want to do it again.”
I understand where he’s coming from, but I still can’t fight the indignation his words stir up. “Don’t you think it’s a little unfair to paint everyone who comes from money with the same critical brush? I’mnothinglike Daisy Calhoun, Drew. It’s why I didn’t marry Preston in the first place. Because I want something different for myself. I want a different kind of life.”
The words are true enough, but even as I say them, I sense the underlying hypocrisy.Iwouldn’t have a problem dating someone who is a paramedic, but that doesn’t mean my parents wouldn’t be bothered by it. They currently believe Iamdating a paramedic—thanks to the lie I told them when I was trying to avoid a setup with Johnny Stager—and they’re still giving me grief about it.
“But answer me honestly, Tess,” Drew says as if reading my thoughts. “What would your parents think if I was part of that different life?”
I bite my lip, unable to respond. I’ve come a long way in separating myself from my parents and their unhealthy expectations. But there is still plenty of progress yet to make. And I’m not sure I’ll ever trust them to interact with Drew, or anyone else without a perfect pedigree, without saying something hurtful. My silence must be telling, because Drew nods his head like he understands what I’mnotsaying loud and clear.
“I’ve endured one too many dinners where my value was directly tied to the number of zeros behind my annual salary,” he says. “Maybe it’s left me a little gun-shy, but I don’t want to put myself in that position again.”
Silence settles between us while I consider his words, one hand slowly rubbing over Roxie’s soft fur. “So this is all Daisy Calhoun’s fault,” I eventually say. “I might have to kick her in the kneecaps the next time I see her.”
Drew’s expression shifts, his lips lifting in a smile like he’s surprised by my levity. “Work in an extra kick from me?”
“Consider it done,” I say. “Bare minimum, I’ll at least figure out how to spill my wine on her dress the next time we’re at the club.”
Roxie jumps up when a couple of seagulls land nearby, and I use the opportunity to shift onto my knees and gather my belongings, putting them all inside my bag. The sun is starting to fall in the late afternoon sky, and I can already feel the temperatures cooling.
“Time to go?” Drew asks, and I nod.
“It feels like it gets dark fast this time of year,” I say. I stand, and Drew jumps up beside me, standing back while I pick up the blanket I’ve been sitting on and shake out the sand. As soon as I finish, he reaches down and picks up the bottom corners so he can help me fold it. We fold the blanket in half, then in fourths, then he walks toward me, bringing his end to mine.
We’re standing close when he hands me his end of the blanket. Close enough for me to feel the warmth emanating off his body and catch his familiar scent. My body reacts like Drew just injected his pheromones directly into my veins. A hot flush creeps up my chest, and I take a stuttering breath.
Why does this man impact me so strongly?
And how am I ever supposed to think clearly when he does?
“I’m glad I ran into you, Tess,” he says, his voice low. “And I appreciate you letting me explain where I’m coming from.”
I shrug, holding his gaze. “I still think you’re wrong about me,” I say. I have the sudden urge to press my palms against his chest, to feel the warmth of him under my hands. His hoodie looks soft, and I only just keep myself from testing my theory. Instead, I breathe out a resigned sigh. “Unfortunately, I think you’re right about my parents. And the last thing I want is to expose you to their ridicule when your wounds from Daisy are still so fresh.”
I pull the blanket free from his grip and drop it into my bag, then bend down to retrieve my water bottle from where it’s sitting near Drew’s feet. When I stand back up, the sand shifts beneath my feet, and I stumble.
Drew quickly catches me, his hands cupping my elbows until I’m steady on my feet. His thumbs trace slow circles over my arms, and I suddenly hate that I’m wearing a sweater, that there’s something to keep me from feeling the brush of his fingers directly on my skin.
“Thanks,” I say softly, and he nods, his blue eyes flashing.
“Are you all right?” he asks.
I nod, even though I feel anything but all right.Whatis happening to me right now? I’ve never experienced this kind of chemistry before. I’m not just talking sparks of attraction. I’m dealing with a whole raging forest fire. Unless Drew is willing to kiss me, or at least take me out to dinner, being around him is only going to get more painful.
