She wanted to argue, but there were no case to be made. Instead she simply replied, “Yeah, he really did.”
To her surprise, Sean reached out to touch her face. He’d slipped off his mitten, and his palm was warm against her cheek. Awareness filtered through her body like snow falling—the feeling was soft at first, but it built and built and built as her heart thudded on.
“He has to live with that mistake for the rest of his life,” he said. “Even if he doesn’t realise it now, one day he’s going to wake up, and he’s going to realise what he lost.”
Stupid tears pricked her eyes again but she blinked, refusing to let them fall. She hated how Sean could see right through her defences, blowing down her walls as if they were made of fluffy piles of marshmallows.
She squeezed her eyes shut. Her greatest fear was that once she pulled the stopper out, there would be no getting the emotions back in. That she might fall apart even more thoroughly than she already had. Yet there was something soothing about the way he touched her, laying in the snow with no one around them—they were alone and protected. And Lily had allowed no one to comfort her in the past month. She’d been marching on, trying to appear fine while crumbling on the inside.
“Lily, look at me.” The command was kind and warm, and it teased her with things she couldn’t allow herself to want. Not again.
But her eyes complied, fluttering open and drinking him in.
“I…” There was so much she wanted to say.
I should have picked up the phone when you called.
I never stopped thinking about you.
Can we stay here forever and forget about the rest of the world?
There was a traffic jam in her head, a crash between what was sensible and right versus the boom of building attraction that heated her up from the inside. Nothing would come out. Sean leaned forward like he wanted to kiss her, his lips parted in anticipation. The air crackled between them, delicious tension winding like a screw. Getting tighter, tighter, tighter…
This isn’t real.
She jerked back, reality flooding in like unwelcome rain. She only meant for this relationship to shield her from pity and questions about the breakup. And right now, they were totally and utterly alone. If she kissed him, then it would mean something. It would be for her own pleasure and longing, and not for their charade.
“Sorry, I…” She scrambled back, getting to her feet and shaking the snow from her coat. “I didn’t mean…”
Sean pushed up to a sitting position, his expression difficult to read. “It’s fine.”
“Sorry,” she mumbled again, figuring it was better to say less than more.
But as she hurried back to the house, cursing herself for the constant lapses in judgement she seemed to have around him, she couldn’t shake the feeling of warmth and joy in her body.
Feelings, she’d believed in her darkest moments, she’d never experience again.
8
Sean spent the rest of the day trying not to think about Lily. He hunted down distractions to stop himself from playing their almost-kiss on a continuous loop—not to mention wondering why history seemed to be repeating itself—and busied himself helping Ethan out around the inn. Yet nothing would take his mind off that perfectly romantic snowy moment.
Logically, he felt like he should hate the idea of romance.
He’d comforted one too many lonely hearts weeping over a beer at work to believe that love would solve the world’s problems. And he thought Valentine’s Day was totally a scam to sell things that people didn’t need. If you asked any of his mates, they would tell you Sean was not a red roses and heart-shaped chocolates kind of guy.
But on the inside…
Well, seeing Lily tear up had tugged on his heartstrings. A lot. It made him want to pluck the moon from the sky and hand it to her on a silver platter. She was one of the most driven, hard-working people he knew, and to see her falter was like shattering a long-held belief. In his mind, Lily could do anything. Be anything.
And if she was struggling, what hope did the rest of them have?
“I need you to relax for a bit,” Ethan said, cutting into Sean’s thoughts as they finished stacking a load of firewood against a wall. “Seriously, if you do any more work, I’m going to feel obligated to refund your accommodation.”
Sean laughed. “It’s no sweat.”
“I appreciate the help, but I’m not joking. You’re supposed to be on holiday, not spending your day working for free.” Ethan swiped the back of his hand across his forehead. Despite the chill, chopping wood still warmed the body up well. “Get inside before Monroe comes home and has my hide for letting you help.”
Sean stifled a smile. He got the impression that Monroe, though she appeared sweet and lovely, had a bit of a fiery streak, whereas Ethan was a more chilled personality. He certainly wasn’t about to cause a marital argument, especially not when the reason he helped was as much about distracting himself as it was about being a good person.
He headed inside and saw a figure sitting in front of the fireplace. Lily was curled up in the corner of the couch, a notebook and pen in her hands. She was writing furiously, the tip of her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth in concentration.
If it wasn’t for the backdrop of the crackling fireplace and winking lights of the Christmas tree, he could have fooled himself into thinking he was looking at an image of the past. Swap the couch for their high school’s brick wall and Lily’s cosy jumper and leggings for a blue and white checked uniform dress… and everything else was the same.
He loved watching her create.
“What are you working on?” he asked as he walked over and sat down next to her.
Lily’s head snapped up, and she pressed a hand to her chest. “Oh, you startled me.”
He chuckled. “When you get into the zone, you really get into the zone.”
“It’s true. Brock once said a bomb could go off while I was writing, and I wouldn’t even notice it.” The words tumbled out of her, and then she clamped her lips shut, as if trying to squish them. But it was too late. That horse had already bolted.
“It’s fine, you can say his name. He’s not Voldemort.”
“Brock wasn’t always a jerk. Not in the early days.” She shook her head. “Anyway, I don’t want to talk about him. I, uh… after you mentioned that story I’d always wanted to write, a scene popped into my head. I figured since this is the closest thing I’m going to get to a vacation in the next century, I may as well take advantage.”
Sean cocked his head. “Maybe this is a stupid question, but if you really want to write a book then why don’t you make time for it?”
“Because I’m a screenwriter. That’s how I get paid, so working on something that I don’t have confidence will get published is…” She looked up to the ceiling as if searching for the right word. “It feels like a waste of time.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “You didn’t know your movie scripts would go anywhere in the beginning, though.”
“True.” She nodded. “But at some point you have to pick a lane, you know? Screenwriting stuck and now I need to put all my energy into that, so I can see how far I can take it.”