Page 7 of Touchdown Under the Mistletoe
“The twin beds are fine,” I say, admitting defeat.
Rebecca’s face brightens with relief. “Oh, wonderful! Travis already cleared out half the closet for you, and there’s drawer space too. He’s very tidy. You won’t even know he’s there.”
Won’t even know he’s there. Sure. Because I’ve done such a great job of not noticing Travis’s presence so far.
Speaking of, he comes back through the door, carrying my suitcase.
“Where do you want this one?”
“That’s mine, so I guess your bedroom? Because we’ll be roommates. On completely separate sides of the room,” I quickly add.
“Right,” he says.
But he doesn’t move. Instead, he stands there frozen, like he’s already forgotten what he was supposed to do with my suitcase.
Rebecca claps her hands together. “I’ll let you two get settled. Dinner’s at six. Travis, make Riley feel at home, will you?”
And then she’s gone, disappearing back into the kitchen, leaving me and Travis standing in the entryway staring at each other.
“Come on, I’ll help you get settled,” he finally says.
I follow him up the stairs to his old room. He opens the door, and it’s like stepping back in time. Even though the walls are a neutral beige now, I can still see the faint outline of where his posters used to hang. There are now indeed two beds instead of one. Rebecca technically wasn’t wrong. They are on opposite sides of the room, but there’s only about four feet between them.
“I cleared out the left side of the closet and the top three drawers,” Travis says, setting my suitcase down on the bed closest to the window.
“This is great. Really. Thank you.”
He shoves his hands in his pockets, and for the first time since I arrived, he looks uncertain. “Look, I know this is weird. If you’re uncomfortable, we can figure something else out.”
“I’m not uncomfortable,” I lie.
“Great.”
“I’ll give you your privacy so you can unpack. But I’m glad you’re here. It’s good to see you again. We’re going to have fun. Right?”
I nod, and then he’s gone.
I should start unpacking. Should do something. Anything. Instead, I just sit on the bed and wonder how I’m going tosurvive rooming with Travis without, well… falling for him. Again.
Because the last thing I need is to have my heart broken.
Again.
Chapter Four
Travis
If someone had told me a week ago that I’d be spending Christmas squeezed around my parents’ dining table like a sardine in a can, I wouldn’t have believed them. Yet here I am, elbow-to-elbow with my family and the neighbors, trying to pass the mashed potatoes without knocking over someone’s wineglass.
My mom has outdone herself with the pot roast, but the real challenge isn’t the food. It’s the seating arrangement. We’ve crammed two extra chairs at each end of the table, and I’m pretty sure the fire marshal would have a field day with this setup. I’m wedged between Riley on my left and my Aunt Annie on my right, who keeps accidentally stabbing me with her elbow every time she reaches for something.
“Can someone pass the rolls?” Grandma calls from the far end of the table.
“Which direction?” my dad asks, looking around helplessly at the maze of arms and dishes.
“Does it matter? Just launch them down here,” Grandma says.
“Sorry, sorry,” Aunt Annie mutters for the third time as her elbow connects with my arm.
