Page 96 of Kiss the Girl
“Wake up,” she said. “And shower. You stink. Text me when you’re done.”
I pushed up to a sitting position. “What time is it?”
“Eight o’clock. A little after. I’ll start some coffee for you. Go shower.”
“Is something wrong?”
“No, but I need to talk to you.”
I nodded and rose to head for the shower. “See you in a few.”
I emerged fifteen minutes later, showered, shaved, and still groggy, but she had coffee ready to pour as promised. I let myself get half of it down so the caffeine could do its work before I texted her.
She popped through my door thirty seconds later.
“Where’s Evie?” I asked when she didn’t follow.
“Watching The Grinch.”
“It doesn’t freak her out?”
“No. She says Grinchy is sad and nice.”
“Smart girl. I got her a few more things from Santa. Is she ready for tonight?”
“Noah…”
“I wanted to. I promise you can eat all the cookies if you don’t lecture me about spoiling her.”
She smiled and shook her head. “It’s Christmas Eve, so I’ll let it go.”
“It’s a Christmas miracle.”
“We still need to talk.”
I took a sip of my coffee, stalling. Nothing good ever followed that phrase. I wasn’t a particularly anxious person, but I felt knots forming in my stomach.
“I was talking to Mike the other day.”
“Mike?”
“Mr. Winters.”
Oh, right. I forgot sometimes that parent-aged adults had first names.
“Anyway,” she continued, “he said he was worried that you and Grace are going to break up. Are you?”
I guessed the show we’d put on for her mom had done its job of planting that seed. “No. Because we’re not together, which he knows.”
“Aren’t you?”
“You know the situation.”
“I do. The question is whether you two do. You get that whatever is going on between you isn’t fake, and everyone else can see it, plain as day?”
I didn’t answer.
“That’s what I thought,” she said. “So when is she leaving?”
