Page 81 of A Little Too Late
“There’s a cup of spiked cider with my name on it,” I say under my breath.
“Me too,” Reed says. “Unless that Halley chick is bartending. She’d probably put a snowball in mine.”
“And you’d deserve it,” I grumble.
“Maybe. But will you have a drink with me anyway?”
Danger, Ava. “It depends on whether that’s code for something else.” I tilt my head back to see a big blue starburst explode in the sky. I wonder if I’m strong enough to make the smart choice and go home alone tonight.
Reed and I are like two of the celestial bodies up there in the sky, powerless against all the different gravitational forces pulling on us.
Even if I don’t give in to another night with him, he’s still a force in my orbit. I don’t know how to shake him.
“Look, I need you to know something,” he says, leaning closer to me.
His nearness causes a thrum of excitement to roll through me. I could no more stop it than I could stop the moon from rising. Still, I don’t look at him, because I don’t want him to read it off my face. “What’s that?”
“I have to leave tomorrow morning. It was the only flight back to San Jose with a seat.”
My stomach plunges. “Yeah. Mountain gossip had you already gone.”
“Without saying goodbye? I wouldn’t do that.”
Anger rises in my chest as I turn to him. “You’re still leaving, though. And if you let your father sell this place, I know you won’t be back.”
“Lethim?” Reed repeats. “You think I have a choice?”
“I think you could make your case again. How much trouble is Madigan Mountain worth to you? Your talk this morning lasted less than thirty minutes.”
“He won’t listen,” Reed says, and his voice is calmer than it should be. “Doesn’t matter how many times I say it.”
“You think that, but you don’t actually know.” My hands are balled into fists, because I’m so frustrated with both of them. They’re both hurting and too stubborn to be the one who admits it.
“Look…” Reed grabs the back of his neck and sighs. “Just because I can’t make my vision for the mountain work, doesn’t mean I don’t want to see you again. Will you come to California with me?”
“When?” I demand. “On vacation? I guess I could. But what would it lead to, besides more awkward goodbyes?”
“I don’t know what the future holds,” he says quietly. “But I don’t want to lose you again.”
“So don’t.” I sound angry, I think, but this really isn’t that complicated. “Stay here. Talk to your dad again.”
Slowly, he shakes his head. “I can’t stay here, Ava. I have to be at a meeting Monday morning. If I don’t go, it undoes months of work. But you could come and see Palo Alto. Try it on. There are hotels to run there, too. They’d be lucky to have you. And so would I.”
My pulse quickens, because I’ve been waiting years for Reed to say that he doesn’t want to let me go. My twenty-two-year-old self would already be looking at flights to California.
But with one glance at the hotel lit up against the dark sky, I feel deeply conflicted. Everyone I know and care about is standing around on this snowy field. “I don’t know, Reed. That makes me the one who makes the scary leap and gives up everything.”
“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “I know. That’s not fair.” He tugs off one of my gloves, tucks it into my pocket, then takes my hand in his.
“Reed.” I’m trapped inside his gaze as his thumb sweeps slowly across my palm. I can’t think when he touches me, and I need to keep a cool head right now.
This is big. Like I’m standing on a cliff, feeling vertigo at the view below. My heart thumps heavily inside my chest. “If there’s anyone I would ever do that for, it’s you. But—”
His brown eyes cool.
“—I’ve spent a decade making a life here, and now it’s in flux. If I leave right now, I am abandoning this place. Just like your father.”
“And just like me, I guess?”
