Best Friends Don't Kiss(58)
Instantly, as if it’s right on cue, my heart starts to pound wildly in my chest.
“It’s not that. It’s just…” I pause, completely unsure of what I’m even trying to say. “I just didn’t expect you to say that, is all,” I mutter and fidget my fingers across the tablecloth, my index finger tracing each tiny snowman as I try to figure out what in the hell is happening inside my head right now.
Maybe him saying that freaked you out because it reminds you of someone…someone you know really fucking well…someone who refuses to admit to herself how she really feels about her best friend…
Oh, holy geez. That’s crazy with a capital and bold-faced C.
I need some air.
“Be right back,” I say to Luke and hop out of my chair. “Just running to the bathroom real quick.”
I don’t miss the way his eyes attempt to search mine, but I quickly look away from him and rush toward the bathroom in the entry hallway.
The instant I’m inside, I shut and lock the door and just stand there, hands resting on the sink and staring at my reflection in the mirror. My heart continues to pound like a kickdrum inside my chest as I try to slow my near-hyperventilating breaths.
What in the hell is happening? Am I actually having a panic attack right now?
Uh no, honey. More like, you just opened Pandora’s box of emotions, and it is freaking you the fuck out.
Holy hell.
I sigh and splash a little cool water on my overheated cheeks.
“Just calm down and get it together,” I whisper to myself. “It’s going to be fine.”
Several slow inhales and exhales later, I feel relaxed enough to step back out into the kitchen. But when I get there, I notice Luke is no longer sitting at the table.
“Where’s Luke?”
“He took your suitcases and cocoa mugs upstairs to your room,” my mom answers, and a tickled grin kisses her mouth. “After your dad handed him the itinerary, Luke said you guys might need a nap before diving into the first night of Christmas festivities.”
The normalcy of that statement catches me off guard, but also, it makes me feel oddly at peace.
“Oh boy.” I laugh. “I kind of, sort of, purposely didn’t show him the itinerary before we left New York.”
“That was probably smart.” My mom’s grin grows. “Oh, and before I forget. There are fresh towels and washcloths in your bathroom, but let me know if you guys need anything, okay?”
“Thanks, Mom.”
Out of the kitchen and up the stairs, I make my way toward my old bedroom at the end of the second-floor hallway, and when I open the door, I find Luke lying on my bed with the itinerary clutched in his hands.
“How’s it going?” I ask and gently shut the door behind myself.
“Did you see what your dad has planned?” he asks, eyes wide. “Ice-skating, caroling, cookie-baking contest…? Every day is jam-fucking-packed, Ava.”
“Well, the big Guy really loves Christmas.” I giggle and slip off my boots, setting them beside Luke’s sneakers and our suitcases.
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I honestly didn’t know there were this many Christmas-themed activities to do.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised,” I answer, lying down on the bed beside him. “If there were more days, Guy Lucie would’ve found more activities. Truthfully, that final schedule probably had to be narrowed down.”
“Holy shit.” Luke bursts into laughter and sets the laminated itinerary onto my old nightstand and adjusts his arm so it’s underneath my shoulders, tucking me close to his side. “This is going to be some week, huh?”
I grin up at him. “Yeah, well, between Guy’s holiday extravaganza, my sister’s wedding, my stupid reunion, and the whole—” I drop my voice to a whisper “—you pretending to be my boyfriend, I’m pretty sure this week will be one for the books.”
“You want to know my favorite part of the trip so far?”
“Tell me.”
“Seeing your childhood bedroom.”
I lean back to meet his eyes. “Really?”
“Oh yeah,” he responds and glances around the room. “It’s everything I hoped it’d be and more.”
“You’ve spent that much time thinking about my childhood bedroom?”
“I’ve always wondered what young Ava was like when she was up here painting.” His smile is soft and sugary sweet. “And now I know.”
I look around my room and see that most of it hasn’t changed. Not the canvases hanging above my desk or the easel that still sits by the window. It’s a true blast from the past.
“I think ten-year-old Luke would’ve been fascinated by ten-year-old Ava.”
“You don’t know that.” I roll my eyes. “I was a weird kid.”
“All kids are weird. And your weird is the good kind,” he responds and flashes a lazy, sleepy smile toward me. “That’s what makes you special, Ace. You’ve always marched to the beat of your own drum.” A yawn escapes his throat, and it’s not long before his eyes drift closed.
After a lengthy day of traveling, I should be just as tired as he is, but I’m not.
If anything, I feel wired. Like I just drank three freaking espressos.