“Alliance?” I ask as I grab the large tree trunk and swing my body around it, hiding next to her. We make an arsenal of snowballs to attack Fitz. He laughs and dishes it right back, although I swear he throws three snowballs at me for every one he levels at Molly. But I guess it’s normal to spare the girl you love from getting a face full of frozen slush.
After several minutes, Molly and I collapse on the porch in a fit of laughter. I’m soaking wet, frozen to the core, and panting from effort. My lungs burn and my heart is racing, each thump pumping blood through my veins with a frantic beat. Alive alive alive.
“That was fun,” Molly laughs as she helps me brush chunks of snow and ice from my hair. A trail of snow slides down my spine. It feels awful, but I deserve it. Molly would hate me if she knew I allowed Fitz to tuck me by his side last night, and it doesn’t seem fair to laugh and joke with her like nothing happened.
“Go away, we’re going to talk about you,” Molly says to Fitz. His eyes dart between us, but he nods his head and retrieves a shovel to dig out Darcy’s rental car. For a traitorous second, my heart skips a beat the way it does whenever I get to talk about Fitz. I’m always looking for excuses to bring him up with Clover, but with Molly, I don’t need to invent a reason.
Too bad this reason sucks.
“So, what do you think?” she whispers to me when he’s out of earshot. “What’s the best way to win him back?”
“What exactly did he say when you talked in the basement yesterday?”
She tucks her knees and her arms tightly against her body. “That he cares about me but he’s not sure what he wants.”
“Can you blame him? You broke his heart.”
“I know.” She bites her lip.
I glance up at Fitz. He quickly dips his head and pretends he’s not trying to eavesdrop.
“Let me talk to him and see where his head’s at. Then I’ll figure out a plan.”
“Thanks, Paige. You’re a good friend.”
I smile tightly as she brushes the snow from her pants and heads inside.
“Can I help?” I ask. Without quite meeting my eyes, he finds me a shovel and we work silently for a long time.
After last night, I’m not sure how to approach the subject of Molly, so naturally, I turn it into a joke. “Bet you wish you’d cuddled with Bernie last night, huh?”
His eyes snap up to meet mine, looking too offended to respond.
“Because of the hypothermia … you could have kept her warm—” Never mind. Better just spit it out. “What’s the deal with you and Molly?”
He sighs. “She wants to get back together.”
“Do you?”
He’s quiet for the length of three shovels of snow. It feels like longer. “I don’t know yet.” Another shovel. “What do you think?” Eyes still down. Still won’t look at me.
My stomach clenches. This is my chance to sabotage their relationship. But what’s the point of doing that? If he’s not going to be with me, why not Molly? Why not any of the other ones? At least when he has a girlfriend, there’s a reason he’s not with me. When he’s single, it all comes down to the same thing: He doesn’t want me. Full stop.
If it’s not going to be me—no, since it’s not going to be me, does it really matter? “I think you should do whatever you want.”
“You must have an opinion.” He spikes his shovel into the snow so it’s standing up straight and rests his palm on top, his face a smooth mask of nonchalance.
“Not really. I don’t care who you date.”
“You don’t care?” He blinks once, his voice flat.
I shrug. “If it’s not her, it’ll be someone else.” And knowing Fitz, the next girl will be as great as Molly. I said Fitz doesn’t have a type, but the truth is, his girlfriends are nice. I like them. He doesn’t date mean girls, because that’s not the kind of guy he is. So whether it’s Molly or Bernie or whoever, it’ll be the same knife in the gut as always, and I’ll hate that I can’t even hate her.
“I dunno. Maybe I should take a break from dating. I keep screwing things up.” He swallows hard, his jaw straining. His eyes search mine, looking lost. My heart breaks for him. I’d do anything to keep that look out of his eyes.
“What if I can promise that Molly won’t break your heart again?”
It’s a terrible thing to promise; I have no way of knowing the future. Obviously. I mean, that’s basically the source of all my problems. But she seems sincere. Why shouldn’t they have another chance?
Besides, Fitz and I? We already tried this. First that night of the spring carnival, and then again on the train. And being close to him triggers something in me that makes my insides panicky and scared. My heart is not nearly fearless enough for Fitz Wilding.
Fitz’s vulnerable, tortured expression is wiped clean in an instant. His features smooth and his shoulders square as he returns to shoveling.
“Is that a yes?”
He laughs bitterly. “Whatever you say, Collins.”
My stomach twists. I step back, mumbling something about the cold. In reality: It’s time to find Molly and fix what’s broken. That’ll make everything right. Better. Normal.
I’m in love with Fitz, and I’m going to help Molly plan the rom-com grand gesture of his dreams.
What could go wrong?
* * *
“What did Fitz say?” Molly’s waiting for me in the basement, her hands wrung together.
I sit on the hearth, remove my boots, peel off my socks, and bring my feet close to the fire. Slowly, my body begins to thaw.
“Well?” She finally bursts. “I’m dying over here. What did he say?”
I’ve already decided to help her, but admitting it out loud is harder than I expected. “He has reservations.”
“Because I dumped him? Or because he’s not interested anymore?”
“He’s protecting his heart.”
“But I love him.” Her eyes shine with an expression I recognize well: foolish hope and a good dose of heartbreak. Molly has resting love face. I have it too. The only difference between us is that she has a chance at a happy ending. Or, at the very least, a happy right now.
And yet. I still can’t bring myself to push them back together, so I stall a little longer. “Tell me why you broke up with him.”
She worries her lip. “I’m not supposed to say anything.”
“To me? Or to people in general?”
“You. Specifically.”
Well. That’s a punch in the gut. I don’t want Fitz to have secrets about me. I’m the only one in our relationship allowed to have secrets.
“He’s my best friend, and you shattered his heart. I need to be sure you won’t do it again.”
And okay, maybe shattered is a tad dramatic. But I saw his expression out in the snow when I brought up the topic of Molly, and I feel confident that he’s miserable. And maybe this makes me pathetic, but I love him too much not to help.
“I was jealous,” Molly says.
I sigh. “I get that, honestly, but if you love him, then you shouldn’t punish him for his past.”
“It’s not like that. I don’t care about his exes or anything.”