Page 146 of Snowed In
“Go on,” she says. “You’re off the hook.”
“But—”
“You know how he gets.”
“He’s not seven,” I mutter, but I kiss her on the cheek, throwing in a hug for good measure.
“Happy Christmas, Mam.”
“Happy Christmas,” she tells me, and I head down the hall.
“Yell much?” I ask when I see my brother standing in the entranceway, blocking the open front door. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Supervising your boyfriend.”
“What?” I edge around him, jostling him when he doesn’t budge to see the Fitzpatrick family Jeep outside. A second later, Christian himself appears, taking a pile of blankets from the back.
“What’s he doing?”
“Guy stuff.”
“Aidan.” I grab my coat from the hook by the door, but he plants a foot against the frame before I can leave. “Move.”
“No.”
“Don’t make me push you.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
I do. He doesn’t even pretend to wobble.
“Would you just—”
“You should have told me about Isaac,” he says, and I pause, watching him warily. “I wish you would have told me,” he adds. “I would have believed you.”
“I know.”
“I would have helped you.”
“I know you would have,” I say. “I wish I had too.”
He nods, satisfied. “You’re good?”
“Yeah. Or I’m getting there.”
“Ishegood?” he asks, jerking his head outside.
“He’s the best,” I say. “And he has a really nice car.”
Aidan snorts but relaxes a little as he grabs my hand, looping his pinkie finger briefly with mine.
I’m confused. “What was that?”
“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “But we don’t have a secret handshake, so I thought we should do something.”
“We could hug?”
“Eh.” He glances back to the yard and drops his foot. “You can go now.”
