A Cross-Country Christmas(37)

Will leaned toward the steering wheel. “Maybe you’re right.”

“I am right. So it’s not what you thought it was going to be—that doesn’t mean it can’t still be something amazing.”

She’d always believed in pursuing what she wanted, but she only now realized not everyone felt that way. Some people had legitimate concerns holding them back. But she believed in second chances.

I believe in second chances.

Or did she only believe in second chances when they didn’t put her heart on the line?

I think he’s changed a lot. Give him a chance to prove it. Rosa’s words echoed in her mind.

He sat up straighter. “Okay.”

The word stole her attention. “Okay…what?”

When he smiled, the edges of his eyes crinkled at the corners. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m going to go for it.”

“Then my work here is done.” She smiled at him, but his face had gone serious.

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Just chase down what you want.”

She tilted her head down, incredulous. “This from the person who can literally have any woman eating out of his hand after a hello and a smile.”

Will shook his head ever so slightly.

“But I don’t want any woman.”

Lauren heard her own nerves in her laugh, and she hoped Will didn’t notice the tremble in her voice. “What can I say? I’m impressive.”

“You think you’re joking, but it’s true.” He sat back in his seat. “I can’t believe I didn’t realize it before. You’re amazing.”

Stay cool, Lauren. He’s just being nice.

The silence hung there, tormenting her, but her mind was blank. She searched for something—anything—to say. “So, this all happened Christmas of your junior year?” she blurted, quickly regretting it.

That’s what you come up with? What in the world are you doing, Lauren?

He nodded. “Right before Christmas break.”

She looked away. “That explains a lot.”

Shut up, Lauren.

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

Her heart picked up pace, the way it often did when her mouth got ahead of her brain. She simultaneously wanted to ask him about That Night and never ask him about That Night.

Especially if he didn’t remember it.

Is it possible he really doesn’t remember?

Unlike Will, Lauren had decided a long time ago to stay away from alcohol for two reasons: 1. The calories, and 2. The taste. Not to mention the fact that Lauren Richmond did not like it when she wasn’t in control. Alcohol made people do foolish things. She didn’t want to be one of them.

However, her lack of experience in this area made it hard to know what to believe. She studied him for a moment, searching for anything that might indicate he wasn’t being honest. When she found nothing, she said, “You really don’t remember, do you?”

His shoulders dropped, only slightly, and he searched her eyes, seemingly desperate to understand what it was she wasn’t saying. “Remember what?”

The hint of a memory played at the corners of her mind, but Lauren couldn’t bring herself to relive the humiliation. She didn’t have the emotional strength. Once opened, the floodgates of that Christmas would drown her.

She needed to let it go. She had let it go. It’s not like it had affected her last decade. She’d moved on.

Why then, was this memory still so raw?

She steeled herself—and half-lied.

“I think you got really drunk at a party, and I drove you home. That’s all,” Lauren said.

His eyes flickered with something she prayed wasn’t a memory. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that. I was a mess. Did I throw up in your car?”

If only.

She shook her head. “No. I got you home safe and sound.”

His eyes darted back and forth, as if he were working to recall, “I. . .don’t remember that at all. Did you, like, come into my house?”

She hitched her breath. “I got you to your door, and,” she lied again. “You took care of the rest.” She was not confronting this. Not now.

“Wow. I’m so sorry, Lauren. I don’t remember that at all.”

Thank goodness.

As soon as the relief washed over her, it was replaced by disappointment. He didn’t remember. Any of it.

He turned and looked at her, sincere. “Thanks, Lo,” he said. “You were a good friend even then.”

She smiled and nodded.

Right. A good friend. And again, like before, I want to be so much more.





Chapter 17





Will hadn’t intended to bear his soul—not to anyone, but especially not to Lauren.

He’d been carrying around his regrets like Atlas, desperately holding up the world, for too long. Somehow, telling her about it helped lighten the load.

She’d helped him. Again.

Then she’d asked that question—you really don’t remember, do you—and his heart sank. His palms turned clammy, and horror welled up inside of him.

It wasn’t the first time he’d heard that question.