BABCIA: The snow has started to come down. I’ve called the neighbor boys to shovel.
BABCIA: The weatherman says the snow won’t stop and we’re getting 4 feet!
BRENDAN: You know what? I’m sending Luke. I know your stubborn ass will try to walk.
BABCIA: Luke will come get you.
BRENDAN: Luke is on his way.
HE WHO SHALL NOT BE CONTACTED: Hey Bee. I’m at the bakery.
HE WHO SHALL NOT BE CONTACTED: You there?
I’m still reeling over what they’ve done when a pounding knock at the door startles me. I jump back, phone clasped in both hands, pressing into my chest. No, this can’t be happening. This can’t be real.
“Belinda?” A voice, his voice, calls through the door. “You in there?”
I’m frozen in place. My heart is in my throat as I stare at the door in horror. Why is he here? When did he get back to Toronto? What the hell is he thinking picking me up? Question after question zooms through my mind, but there’s no time to process any of them. Because the handle is turning, and I’m seconds away from coming face-to-face with the man who broke my heart. My older brother’s best friend.
The Shit Storm
Belinda
Luke Flynn-Fletcher was the boy next door. The unobtainable always are.
They’re always just within arm’s reach but never actually in your arms. We’d been close as children. Mostly because he and my brother, Brendan, were best friends and hung out all the time. They had a tree fort, a secret language and matching bikes that they raced around the neighborhood. I was the tagalong. The annoying little sister that they included only after my mom said Brendan’s name in that way.
Luke had been a major part of my childhood. I thought he would be a major part of my future too. That childish fantasy crashed down around me last year when, after a few too many spiked egg nogs, I confessed my feelings…and he walked away without a word.
I can recall every second of that moment. The way my heartbeat thumped through my entire body, the way his eyes flared in realization for just a second before they took on a pitying shine. The sounds of the bar around us had ceased to exist the moment I decided to go for it. To finally tell him my feelings, hoping against hope he felt the same. I had just graduated from my two-year college program, and Luke was happily working as a cop with the Toronto Police Department. We were both adults. There was no way he could look at me as his friend’s dorky little sister anymore.
But he hadn’t felt the same way. That was made abundantly clear. The worst part, other than the crippling rejection and the pity that shone from his eyes, was his disappearance the next day. He’d left in the night and moved across the country to take a job that no one knew much about.
I couldn’t not read into his quick departure. He left because he couldn’t stomach the thought of being around me. Of seeing me and knowing my not-so-hidden feelings.
I didn’t regret telling him. I was proud of what I’d done. I wasn’t the kind of person to sit around and wonder what if. So in the dim bar light, as we celebrated, I thought the moment had been right. Now or never.
I just hadn’t factored in how hard never hit the heart.
“Belinda, open the door. I’m freezing my balls off out here.”
Shaking out of my thoughts, I roll my lips together, back and forth as I stare at the door again. I have to open it, I know I do. I’m just not ready.
“Belinda! Christ.” His mutterings are getting more desperate. And could I hear the chattering of teeth?
Not giving myself a moment to overthink my next actions, I quickly flip the lock and pull open the door. I’m pushed back immediately as Luke’s large body rushes in, the door slamming behind him. My eyes are wide in shock as I take in his partially covered face.
“Jesus, Bee. Took you long enough.” His hands come up to pull down the scarf that is tucked under his chin and unzip the top of his jacket so he can breathe.
His words don’t register right away. I’m transfixed by the scruff that’s covering his jaw. I have an instant need to touch it. Luke looks…different. If it’s humanly possible, which I didn’t think it could be, he looks even better than I remember. Bigger.
“You look different.”
“How can you tell with all the layers I have on?” He smirks at me. There’s a fluttering in my chest.
“Umm, yeah.” Inside I’m screaming at how moronic I sound. Could I at least string a normal sentence together? After all this time apart, I should be over him, over this stupid crush. Yet I know with one look in his kind, dark brown eyes that I’ve been lying to myself.
Clearing my throat, I tilt my head up so he can see me more clearly. “You didn’t have to come get me. I would have been fine to walk to the subway.”
“That wasn’t going to happen,” he says, giving me a strange look as his eyes take in all of me. “And there was no way I was going to say no to your Babcia. I can’t risk being denied her cooking. I’m a growing boy.”
“Humm,” is all I’m able to get out. He definitely has grown. And filled out. And become a walking fantasy. This is a nightmare.
“So,” he draws out, looking around the small hallway and into the kitchen, “are you ready to go?”
“Oh, umm, yes. Just let me…grab my cookies.” Before the words are out of my mouth, I’m walking away from him. I wasn’t going to take home the leftover sugar cookies I had made this morning, but I have an inkling after this ride home I’m going to want to eat my feelings. Plus, I need a minute away from him to get myself together. This is fine. Everything is fine.
Luke is leaning against the door frame as I walk back to him. The slight tilt of his lips makes me think he knew what I was doing. We both stay silent as I pull on all my winter gear. When there’s nothing else for me to button, zip or wrap, I force myself to look at Luke. With a tiny nod, we both head for the door. One of his hands presses into my lower back, guiding me.
The snow is beautiful, falling rapidly around us as we make our way down the stairs. My lips twist up in worry when I reach the bottom. This is it. I’m going to be alone, in a tiny space with Luke, for the first time since I admitted my feelings and he walked away. I see his hand motion to the side where a dark green SUV is parked.
My steps slow on the freshly fallen snow. The boots I’m wearing aren’t heavy duty and I can feel my soles slipping. Luke has me pressed to his side the second one of my boots skates across the ground. Holding me firm and secure.
“Sorry,” I mumble, not looking at him. I have layers of clothing and a jacket on, but I swear I can feel the heat of his body pressed against mine. I try to step away from him, the closeness sending tiny fireworks through my bloodstream, but he doesn’t let me go.
“Got you,” he says softly, a hint of a smile in his voice. I don’t look at him to confirm, I can’t. I don’t trust myself not to turn into even more of a moronic mess in front of him all because he’s back…and touching me…and being sweet.
I shuffle the rest of the way to his SUV, supported by Luke.
“You really should have better boots, Bee. Especially if you’re walking in snow.”