19. New Years Eve

19

New Year's Eve

Ivy

I’ve upturned my suitcase onto my bed, scouring the contents for a magical, stunning New Year’s Eve-worthy outfit that might have sneaked its way in without me knowing. But alas, no luck.

I hate when that happens.

Instead, I grab a pair of black jeans and a black sweater with a peter pan collar embroidered with white pearls. It’s not very fancy, but I doubt the party will be any fancier. At least I hope not. I’ll add a bit of makeup, and that should do the trick. I’m gliding into the bathroom when someone knocks at the door. I put my makeup case next to the sink and hustle over to open it.

I squint through the peephole, and my heart thuds when I see Zane’s large frame. He tilts his head a little, and I get a close-up of his bandaged cheek. I wince at the sight, then open the door.

“What are you doing here?”

His eyes widen, and a gleam flashes in his gray irises. “Hey, you look great.”

I look down at my clothes. “Thanks.”

“Sorry . . . that I came up here—and early,” he says, clearing his throat. “I, um, didn’t say anything about the dress code, and Daisy mentioned that I should have.”

“Oh, well, is this okay?”

He swallows, his eyes trailing down my body. “Perfect.”

I sigh. “Good, because I fought with my suitcase, but this is all I could find,” I joke, opening the door to let him see the mess on my bed.

He cranes his head forward to look. “Ouch.”

“Can you just give me one more second? I’ll put some makeup on, and then we can go. You can come in.”

“All right,” he says, and as soon as he crosses the threshold, his fresh mountain scent takes over the room. I suddenly wish I could bottle it and use it as a candle or a room freshener. “Nice room,” he grunts.

“I know,” I say, heading to the bathroom. “I love it.”

He whistles. “And you weren’t kidding about that bathtub.”

“You thought I was?”

He chuckles, but it sounds a little off. “Kinda.”

“So what should I expect tonight?” I ask as I apply some mascara

“Are you nervous?”

My insides twist. Yeah, you could say that. It’s not that I think I won’t enjoy it, but this party thing feels a lot like a date thing, and it’s making my head dizzy with questions. Do I want to go? Do I want to go with Zane? Should I want to go? Is it normal that I want to go? The list is endless.

As I’m applying my makeup, I say, “Well, it’s always a little nerve-wracking to go to a party where you don’t know anyone.”

“You’ll know me,” he says, and I’m sure he’s sporting a smirk right now. “Don’t worry, everyone will love you. You’re a very lovable person.”

My heart pounds hard against my ribcage, and I swear it’s going to pop out. I lean against the sink, enjoying the cold, soothing sensation on my stomach. “I am?”

“Yeah . . .” He clears his throat. “You know, for a tourist. ”

I laugh, and he joins me with a low chuckle.

I finish applying my mascara and join him in the main room. He’s standing there, looking outside. Staying here in my room has never sounded so appealing.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

I shake myself out of my trance. “Yep.”

After putting my coat and shoes on, I follow him out of my room.

During the walk to his brother’s house, he fills me in on everyone’s names, and I learn he also has a three-year-old nephew, Aaron. And with Belinda there, it looks like I’ll be meeting his entire family tonight. Way to put pressure on a girl. Not that it means anything. We’re just friends.

His brother’s house is a wooden structure with a chalet vibe. Though it’s a bungalow, there are a few steps leading to the front door. It’s situated at the beginning of the street leading to Zane’s farm. As we approach the front door, music streams out of the house, and my chest tightens.

Zane doesn’t bother to knock and just barges right in. After taking off our coats, we follow a long corridor to a large living area, where about two dozen people are mingling, eating, and drinking.

“Brother,” a large guy bellows, hobbling on crutches toward us. He immediately gives me teddy-bear vibes. The guy looks a lot like Zane, but his eyes are a warm shade of brown, and he oozes friendliness. Not that Zane isn’t friendly—he is, but only once you get to know him. The man places both of his crutches in one hand to give Zane a side hug.

“Hey,” Zane greets. “This is Ivy.”

“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Darwin,” the man says, smiling.

“Likewise. Thanks for having me over.”

“Of course. Here’s my son, Aaron,” he says beckoning to a cute kid with dark hair who comes running toward us.

I talk with Darwin for a bit, but my eyes keep darting to Zane and his nephew. Watching him spinning Aaron in circles and making him giggle does weird things to my stomach. I know he’s a good guy, and he’s a lot warmer when you get a glimpse under those gruff outer layers, but every interaction he’s had with kids since I met him are far from the joy that lights up his face when he’s with his nephew.

Daisy joins us, along with Pete, Lea, and Marco, who live further down the street.

“Guys,” Daisy says to the others, giving me a quick hug. “This is Ivy, Claire’s savior and Zane’s friend .”

“Oh, right!” Marco raises his glass. “We heard about how you saved the day.”

My cheeks heat up. “I hardly saved the day. ”

“Sure she did,” Zane says, startling me. I didn’t even know he was listening. “Ivy was great. Patched me up all nice.” He turns his cheek to show off his bandage.

I shake my head, fighting a grimace. “Only because I hurt you in the first place.”

He gives me a falsely annoyed look, then places a hand on my shoulder. “I’m fine.”

The place he touches immediately erupts in flames, and the way Daisy’s looking at the scene—like it’s the first time in history that Zane has placed his hand on someone else’s shoulder—doesn’t help.

Zane pulls me away and introduces me to more people, and I even spot some familiar faces, like Shane from the ski lift, Ethan from the snowmobile place, and Seth, Zane’s employee. We finally make it to the buffet, and the food is to die for.

Everyone I come across is so warm and welcoming, instantly putting me at ease. Darwin is quite the jokester, too, and he does a good impression of Robert De Niro. I’m really going to miss them all when I leave. It’s a great community to live in.

“Ah, there you are,” Zane says to someone behind me before shoving a spinach mini tart in his mouth and wiping his hands. I turn around to see a sixty-something lady wearing a red sweater and a beautiful golden husky brooch. This has to be Belinda.

“My boy,” she says, patting Zane’s cheek like a mom or a grandma would do. “I know I’m late. I didn't set an alarm for my nap, and that threw me off.” She places a loud kiss on his uninjured cheek, and I’m pretty sure if it were anyone else, Zane would be groaning and wiping it off.

“I wanted to introduce you to Ivy,” he says, turning to me.

I take a step forward and stick my hand out, but Belinda takes me into her arms, squeezing me tight. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you,” she says into my hair.

Really? Zane talked to her about me? The thought sends a thrill through my belly.

“And you’re a pretty good skater too, apparently,” she adds with a small wink.

I freeze. Of course, that’s how she heard about me. “Oh gosh,” I say, burying my face in my hands. “I feel awful about that.”

Zane places an arm around my shoulders, tugging me to his side. “Stop beating yourself up, Ivy. I’m okay.”

I gulp, risking a glance at him. His magnetic eyes imprison me for a second, and all I can manage is a nod.

“He really is,” Belinda chimes in. “He’s a big boy. ”

“I am.” Zane plasters a large grin on his face. “Do you want something to eat or drink?” he asks Belinda.

“A martini? And all the food I need is right here,” she says, turning to the buffet.

“Anything for you?” he adds, looking at me.

I raise my glass of wine. “I’m good.”

“You are absolutely gorgeous,” Belinda says to me as soon as Zane leaves us. She takes a step back to study me, then rearranges my brown locks like a mother would.

A warm blush spreads on my cheeks. “Thank you.”

“You know, Zane isn’t really my son, but it certainly feels that way. Daisy, Darwin, they all feel like my children.”

I nod. “That’s wonderful.” And I mean it. I’m so glad they had Bruce and Belinda while growing up. It seems like they really cared for them. Belinda still does.

“It truly is. So, believe me when I say this,” she begins, helping herself to a cocktail sausage. “You must mean a great deal to Zane if he brought you here tonight. That boy doesn’t open up easily.”

“Oh, we’re just friends,” I stammer, my blush intensifying.

She shakes her head. “I’ve seen how different he’s been these past few days. He’s in a good mood, laughing, going on rides, coming home late.”

“Oh, well. I don’t kn— ”

“ I know,” she says firmly. “He never talks to me about anyone, but the last two lunches we spent together, all he could talk about was you.”

Casting her a faint smile, I tilt back the rest of my wine, but nothing will be enough to cool me down right now.