Always, in December(16)



“Josie!” A squeal to her right cut her off and she spun to see none other than Claire bloody Burton rushing toward them, arms outstretched, her dyed-red hair bouncing around her shoulders. “I thought it was you!” She practically leaped on Josie, pinning her arms as she hugged her. “Oh, it’s been too long, I can’t believe we bumped into you like this.”

“We?” Josie asked weakly.

“Oh, Oliver’s just over there, getting us a drink,” Claire said, gesturing behind her without looking. Well great, Josie thought. That was just fantastic, wasn’t it? Of course she’d have the bad luck to bump into her ex at Winter bloody Wonderland. Claire glanced at Max, but then steamrolled on without waiting for an introduction. “Yes, I dragged him along, you know, to cheer him up after…” She broke off on a cough, her pale cheeks turning a little pink. It didn’t deter her though—from Josie’s experience, very little could deter Oliver’s big sister. “He was just devastated when you ended things, Josie.” Claire glanced over her shoulder, then dropped her voice. “He’s been moping around for days without you, can’t seem to break him out of it whatever I do. I wish you two could make it up, you were so good for him, kept him on the right track, you know?”

    “He slept with someone else, Claire,” Josie said shortly. Josie saw, out of the corner of her eye, Max raise his eyebrows at that, but he said nothing.

Claire grimaced, and reached up her hand to toy with the frayed ends of her hair. “Of course,” she said quickly. “Of course, it’s not that I think you should forgive him right away, or ever,” she added quickly at the look on Josie’s face. “I just, well…” She trailed off and Josie’s stomach squirmed. She shouldn’t have been so short with her—it wasn’t Claire’s fault that her brother had decided to throw away their relationship for a pair of knockout heels and a tight red dress.

Claire turned around and waved, and Josie saw Oliver walking toward them, hair fixed in place as always, chest pushed out in the way it always was when he walked. She tried desperately to think of something to say, something to excuse her and Max before his imminent arrival, but came up blank. She glanced up at Max, but he said nothing, only glancing between Oliver and her. No bloody help at all. Claire turned back to face them, and this time looked at Max. She smiled. “I’m Claire, by the way,” she said.

“Right,” Josie said quickly, the back of her neck far too hot. “Right, sorry, Claire this is—”

“Josie?” Too late. Oliver was here, standing frozen with his arms at ninety-degree angles, a cup of steaming liquid held stiffly in each hand. “What are you doing here?” He said it like an accusation, like she’d planned this somehow, deliberately to spoil his fun.

    She tucked her hair behind her ear, which dislodged the rose, so that she had to fumble to put it back in place. Oliver’s gaze followed the movement and he frowned when he saw the flower, glancing ever so briefly at Max by her side, who just stood there, hands in pockets, a benign expression on his face. “Oh, you know,” Josie said vaguely, trying to figure out what she should look at and settling for his Adam’s apple. “Just fancied a day out.”

“But you hate this kind of thing,” Oliver said, still frowning, eyebrows pulling down toward his sharp nose.

Max raised his eyebrows. “You do?” Both Claire and Oliver snapped their focus to him immediately, the fact that he’d spoken for the first time making him impossible to ignore now.

Josie cleared her throat. “I, well…”

Oliver was staring at Max, his gaze flickering to the top of his head, and Josie just knew he was measuring up the height difference between them. Max smiled, an easy, charming smile, one that he saved for strangers other than her, apparently, and held out a hand to Oliver. “Max,” he stated.

Oliver stared at the outstretched hand for a moment before fumbling with the cups he was holding, taking a good few seconds to offload one to Claire. “Right,” he said, grasping Max’s hand, his eyebrows still pulling together as he looked from Max to Josie and back again. “Right, I’m—”

“Oliver,” Max said cheerfully. “I gathered.” Josie jolted as Max swung an arm around her, the weight of it settling on her shoulders. “It’s so good to meet you at last.” Josie glanced up at Max, trying very hard not to look stiff and awkward, but he gave nothing away, still smiling amenably at Oliver. “I’ve heard all about you of course.”

    Oliver’s frown intensified, making his face look even more angular than usual. Claire was still smiling, but she looked uncertain and her gaze was now darting around the three stalls immediately behind them, selling Christmas decorations, jewelry, and paintings, maybe wondering if she could make an escape from the meeting she’d initiated. “You have?” Oliver asked, looking at Josie this time, who tried to arrange her expression into something between a smile and an apology, and ending up doing a weird jerk thing with her head in the process.

“Oh yeah,” Max continued. “Couldn’t believe it when Jose told me about you guys breaking up.”

Jose? She risked a glance up at Max again, but he didn’t meet her gaze.

“I’m sorry,” Oliver said, biting out the words, “but who exactly are you?”

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