Page 80 of Holiday Love
It makes me homesick in a way I didn’t expect. Even though I talk with my family on the phone all the time, I miss my mom’s sugar cookies, Gwen’s terrible holiday playlists, even the way my dad used to sneak extra marshmallows into my cocoa like it was some covert mission, back before he died. The ache sneaks up on me, sharp and painful. I glance away, try to shake it off, justin time to see Anthony heading toward me. Looks like he finally detached from Gina’s side.
“Hey,” I greet him.
“Hey back.” He’s holding a beer, something festive withWinterin the name.
“How’s that taste?” I nod toward the drink.
“Like a Christmas tree threw up in it.” He lifts the bottle so I can see the label, then takes another swig. “How’s the leg?”
“Hobbling but alive, so I’m calling it a win. I get the cast off in a couple of weeks, then I need physical therapy.”
He grunts. Falls quiet. That’s how I know something’s bothering him. Anthony’s not a talker when he’s upset. He shuts down, gets still, especially when he’s holding something back.
I wait for him to speak, expecting something about Gina.
Instead, he dodges in a different direction. His eyes flick toward Helen. “You’re crazy over that doctor lady, huh? You two together?”
My first instinct is to say no. That Helen’s too good, too smart, too impossible, but then I remember the way her body pressed back into mine when we were messing around with theTitanicpose. The way she looked like she might actually kiss me when I teased her. Tonight, it almost felt real. Real enough that I want to claim it, to say the words out loud.
Besides, I’ve got a fake boyfriend reputation to uphold.
“We’re dating,” I say, liking how that rolls out of my mouth. The flavor of those words. “Living together too.” Even I can hear the note of pride.
“You’re not coming back to the Venice Beach house? Even when you’re better?”
There it is. His insecurity, floating to the surface. Anthony’s afraid I’ll come back and mess things up with Gina.
The sad thing is, if Helen and I were a true couple, no one could come between us. I know it. She’s just not the type, and I’ve never been a cheater, not even at my most reckless. Still, his question hits a nerve. The truth is, I don’t know what happens when this cast comes off. I don’t like thinking that far ahead, because if things with Helen don’t last, maybe that house with Jamieisstill an option.
“I don’t know, man,” I tell him honestly. “Just taking it one day at a time.”
He stares over at Helen for a long moment. “Not sure if this thing with Helen is solid? She does seem a little out of your league.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
“Come on, Teddy. She’s a doctor.” He shrugs one shoulder. “You’re…you.”
Heat spikes under my skin, but I force a laugh. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“I’m just trying to figure out where your head’s at, man. If we should turn your old room into a home gym or what.”
Anxiety jolts through me. Anthony’s trying to replace me, just like the bar, just like Gina, just like Helen might someday.
Anthony glances toward Gina, who stands at the edge of the deck, her face tipped up to catch the breeze. His eyes linger, soft and aching in a way that throws me. He already has her, so why’s he looking at her like that?
That’s when I see this conversation for what it really is. This isn’t about my insecurity. It’s about Anthony’s. His worry I’ll outshine him. His resentment that things seem easier for me, that fate favors me more than him.
My grip tightens on the rail, knuckles blanching as the lights along the harbor blur. A hollowness opens in my chest, sharp and familiar.Grief. Grief for the friend Anthony used to be, forthe bond we once had. We were close, not Jamie-close, but still, I leaned on him for nearly half my life. And now, after only a couple of months apart, it feels like there’s an ocean between us. Impossible to cross.
Jamie wanders over with his usual perfect timing, all grin and swagger, a human lifeboat come to haul me out of the undertow. A glance shows Gina’s swapped with him. Now she’s the one driving.
“Am I missing out on a bro housemate reunion or something?” Jamie asks.
“Nothing like that. Just catching up.” I do a double take at the cup in his hand. “Wait. Water? Since when? Eggnog’s your favorite.”
He shrugs, his eyes sliding away. “Don’t feel like it tonight.” A beat, then he adds, “Not giving it up for good, just easing off a bit.”
It takes effort not to gape. I’ve never seen Jamie on this boat without alcohol in his hand. Back at Helen’s condo, he said the parties weren’t hitting the way they used to. On the beach, he admitted he wanted more out of life than another night of drinking. I wondered if it was just talk, the kind of thing you say when you’re restless. But now, Jamie with water? I’m starting to believe he’s serious.
