1. Cassidy

1

Cassidy

A shiver rolls up my spine as soon as I push my door open. The loud whine only slightly describes how I’m feeling. This cold winter air is making all of my joints ache. At the young age of twenty-five, I’m feeling double that.

Looking toward the home I grew up in, my heart feels like it’s lodged itself into my throat. After spending years away, the nostalgia hits me like one swift punch to the chest, hard enough to leave me gasping for air.

I missed this place, missed my parents. In truth, I missed everything I threw away when I left in the first place.

With another cold chill slipping through my sweater like it’s nonexistent, I shut my door and peel my eyes away.

After facing unmoving traffic all morning, I didn’t think I’d make it here before dinner time. After a little undetected speeding, I arrived with perfect timing.

Those grayish clouds up above are only now deciding to spill a light layer of snow. As someone who can’t even drive in the rain without the fear of gliding off the road plucking at the back of my mind, I couldn’t possibly imagine traveling with ice on the road.

With snowflakes growing in quantity, I glide to my trunk. Pushing some stuff to the side, I wiggle out my suitcase and slam the trunk closed. With a thump of my belongings hitting the driveway, I start making my way toward the front.

There’s a large black truck with salt residue covering the lower part of the frame resting at my side. Not recognizing the vehicle, I’m willing to bet my father has treated himself to an upgrade. Though, if that were the case, I’m sure one of them would’ve gushed about it over one of our video calls.

No one mentioned any guests either, so who knows what will be waiting for me inside?

I don’t have to knock, not when my parents haven’t changed their locks in over a decade. For this reason alone, I’ve kept their house key on my ring, saved for this day.

My mother has this strange sixth sense, knowing whenever someone has arrived on the property. Barely having enough time to kick the snow from my boots, she’s calling my name out from deeper inside the home. Probably the kitchen, she loves the space more than anyone I’ve ever met.

Leaving my luggage behind, I don’t dare track water through the home. Nudging off my boots, I hang my scarf on the coat rack alongside the warm-looking coats. I’m going to need to invest in one of those if I plan on sticking around.

In the back of my mind, I mark the task down as a necessity. I will have to buy a few more warm clothes. My wardrobe consists of short-sleeved shirts and shorts. This sweater is new. Only grabbed it because it was hanging on a clearance rack.

A lot has changed. More than my sudden interest in coming home for the holidays to see my parents.

I won’t tell them all of my belongings are stuffed into the back of my car. They don’t need to know about me losing my job either, not right now. I’ll save it for a little longer after the start of my stay. Once I’ve crashed here through New Year’s, they might start putting the pieces together on their own if I stall the truth.

Nearing the kitchen, I hear the melodic tune of Christmas music with an added layer of static and crackling. The smell of gingerbread welcomes me with open arms. Breathing in deeply, a groan manifests in the back of my throat. Entering the room, I choke on the groan.

A familiar face sits at the table, his attention kept on building the ugliest gingerbread house I’ve ever seen. A frown is carved on his lips, his brows knitted together in concentration as he tries to put two walls together with a thin layer of icing.

I notice him before I have the chance to hunt down my mother. There’s a change in appearance. He’s got a beard now, a full bushy one that looks hardly tamed. Some silver hairs are giving away his age in both his hair and beard. Remembering how bright those blue eyes were of his, they look all but gray now. My stomach swoops despite the differences.

Why is Mylo here? As my father’s best friend, I shouldn’t be too surprised. However, it’s Christmas. By now, the man has to have a family to spend the holiday with.

No one warned me. If they had, I would’ve prepared myself a little better. Protected my heart a little more.

My mother’s shrill of excitement makes us both jump and I watch his walls come apart, flopping to the side.

Peeling my eyes away, I take in the flour-coated apron on her body as she comes to hug me. Completely forgetting about the mess on her front, she keeps her sticky fingers at a distance once her arms wrap around me. Smelling like a sugar cube, I breathe her in and sigh.

Just like the sensations that rolled through me when looking at my old home, the same thing happens as she hugs me.

All at once, I regret staying away for as long as I have. I should’ve visited at least once or twice through the years.

Looking past her shoulder, I meet his gaze. Holding it even longer once she releases me, my stomach clenches when I attempt to keep a smile on my lips. In truth, I’m shaken up more than I want to be.

Mylo looks just as surprised to see me. The way his brows lift against his forehead, that new addition of a beard helps hide his mouth. I’m sure he’s gawking at me.

What can I say, seven years is a lot of time to be away. I’ve changed over the years, just as he has. Unlike his full face of hair, I’ve gained a little weight on my cheeks and sides. Despite the fact, I don’t think I look bad per se.

That might change if he keeps staring at me without saying a word.

I squirm, he blinks.

Mylo suddenly stands from the table and a little light returns to his faded gaze. As soon as his arms open up, I know he’s expecting a hug.

My heart skips and I feel a sensation I thought I had gotten over a long long time ago.

“Damn, Bug, I hardly recognized you.” His beard doesn’t hide the stretch of the smile forming on his lips. His fingers curl, beckoning me to come. He snorts at my mother when she scolds him for cursing.

Thankfully, the old nickname helps grind me back to reality. For a minute, I can stay in the present. The last thing I need to do is think about the past.

Coasting across the kitchen, I all but slide into his arms. This is meant to be nothing but a reconnecting hug. Yet, once I get my arms around him and my face finds his warm chest, I breathe in that familiar pine smell. The same smell that I’ve always associated him with. At least there is one thing about him that hasn’t changed.

He wraps his arms fully around me and lifts me like he used to. Back then, I used to giggle and snort because of all the attention he’d given me. Now, I’m more panicked that I’m going to hurt him.

Much to my surprise, he has no issue lifting my feet from the ground. Doesn’t even break a sweat or groan or anything. No, he vibrates with a chuckle when I grunt out a soft curse myself.

My mother is old-fashioned, she’d wave her wooden spoon at me if she knew the colorful language I’ve grown accustomed to. Mylo knows it too, though, he doesn’t bring any attention my way.

Instead, he sets me back down, moves back to the table, and falls back down. Unaffected, I can’t say the same for myself.

My ears are hot, my cheeks too. I don’t want to think about how fast my poor heart is beating.

Spinning on my heel, I look for the one person missing. When I ask about my father, she snorts as she pulls out another pan of cooked gingerbread.

“He’s picking out the tree. You know how he is, always wanting the best one. I’m sure at the moment, he’s working on haggling the price with the poor salesman.” With a smile, she rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “You remember Sal? He’s still got that farm going after all these years.”

I don’t, but I nod anyway. Plucking at the hem of my sweater, I listen to her go on and on about Sal’s son, the one who is supposed to take over the farm once he hits retirement age. Even worse, she mentions how handsome he is. “He’s not too older than you, dear. Five years at best.”

I grimace when both of them look at me. “Uh, thanks. I think I’m good.”

Love and romance are not on my list of concerns at the moment. I haven’t had a boyfriend in years and I’m not worried about changing that any time soon. I need to get my life situated first. I also don’t need my mother to be the one trying to find my match.

“I left my stuff at the door, I should probably unpack. Is there a room free…?” I doubt my old room is still in the same condition as I left it and that much is confirmed when Mylo knowingly purses his lips. Is he seriously staying in my old room? Now I’m wondering how long he’s been stationed here for.

“Dad set something up for you in my hobby room. If we’d gotten a little more of a warning, we–”

I give her a smile and nod. “I appreciate it, thank you.” Can’t complain, not when she’s got a point.

If only everything in my life hadn’t hit the fan all at once.

Seeing Mylo opening his mouth, I don’t give him the time to start making offers to trade or anything. Instead, I spin on my heel and make a run for it.

Feeling a little dizzy, I don’t let the past sway me. I left my old feelings behind for a reason. My heart might be a little confused right now, but once the shock wears off, I’ll be right back to normal.

All those years ago, I loved my father’s best friend. Despite having a wife, my ignorance kept my hopes high. Once I saw their happiness up close, my heart cracked and shattered into a thousand pieces. The man I wanted to be ‘the one’ was no longer an option. I had to move on one way or another.

Finding a job far, far away had only been half of the reason I’d left without looking back. If it weren’t for Mylo, I wouldn’t have applied outside of the state to begin with.

I got over him, I did. Hell, I’ve even had a boyfriend from time to time, helping me forget about that damn smile of his. Of course, no one came in comparison to making me feel the same sort of butterflies. No, not even close.

After all my efforts, I’m not going to cave into my old habits. I’ve grown up and matured, to say the least. There’s a line between us, one I won’t even consider crossing. I will not be known as a home wrecker. This town is too small for such a rumor to spread.

Breathing in deep, my head feels dizzy. There’s a lot of weight on my shoulders as is. I won’t let one little small bump in the road add another five pounds.

I’m going to be normal about this.

Maybe I’ll rekindle some old friendships while I’m here. Meet an old fling or two and catch up. Find whatever distraction I can.

Willing my heart to go along with my plan, I drag my luggage up a set of steps to hunt down whatever room my mother has transformed to do her hobbies in.