Page 69 of Snowed Inn

“Have you and Jesse killed each other yet?” El asks. “He’s still alive, isn’t he?”

“Of course he is.” Now is not the time to confess to El everything that’s been going on with Jesse. Either how close we’ve gotten or that I might want to kiss him a little desperately. Ellie is sick and stressed out about the party. There will be plenty of time for her to catch up later.

“I may need to hear Jesse’s voice for proof of life,” she says.

I hesitate, which I quickly recognize as a mistake because El says, “Ooh, you didn’t say anything snarky. That means you don’t want to kill him. Can it be that you two really did declare a truce?”

I draw in a deep breath. “Actually, we have.”

“Seriously?” El screams into the phone and her voice doesn’t sound nearly as croaky as it used to.

“Yes,” I admit.

“The Harvest Hollow Hot Sheet was right?” she continues.

“Oh, shit. What did it say?”

“That you two were in town eating lunch and making heart eyes at each other.”

I press my palm to my forehead. “Really?? Heart eyes?”

“Oh, yeah. Look it up.”

I will later but I’m more interested in something else at the moment. “Did the Hot Sheet mention the Mockingbird?”

“The what?”

“Jesse’s mocktail bar. The one he’s opening in town.”

“No. I didn’t know he’d decided to go ahead with that.”

“Well, technically he hasn’t . . . yet.” I do not elaborate as I’m still thinking about how the Hot Sheet totally called out Jesse and me at lunch but completely skipped the publicity I was hoping for. Clearly, I’m going to have to be a bit more direct with Mrs. Lawrence next time.

“So, anything else you want to tell me about you and Jesse?” El asks in a super nosy, proddy voice.

El asking more questions cannot lead to anything good. “What’s that?” I say. “I think we have a bad connection. I’ll have to talk to you later. Byeeee.”

“Don’t you dare—”

I click the button to hang up. Then I press the phone to my chest and laugh. El will be blowing up my phone all day trying to find out more. Good thing I know where the Do Not Disturb setting is now.

I set the phone beside me and look around. El’s been dodged, my tasks are complete, and suddenly, all that’s left is . . . me. Me and a very loud brain that insists on circling back to one very specific person. Jesse. I mean what exactly is going on with us? I was doing everything to give him the green light to kiss me last night. I only stopped short of holding up a cardboard sign that read “YES, YOU. YES, NOW.”

But he didn’t. He didn’t even try. And this morning we were strictly friends.

But do friends show each other emotionally charged cement blocks?

Ugh. Maybe they do.

To add to my misery, Monica Moss is in Turks and Caicos with her latest boyfriend for the next week. She told me the cell reception is bad where she’s staying, so I don’t even have her senseless texts to keep my mind off things. I’m about to text Luca and ask but he won’t know what the hell I’m talking about. He doesn’t know anything about the cement block.

And I’ve already decided it’s for the best that Jesse and I didn’t kiss. My rational mind knows that. First, messing around with El’s business partner is a real slippery slope. Second, Jesse and I both admitted we’re not exactly the staying kind. The minute I take off for the city, it’ll be awkward. I won’t want to come back and visit because I won’t know how to deal with him. No, for like one hundred reasons, it’s a bad idea to get with Jesse.

So why can’t I stop thinking about him?

I need a distraction. I need to do something for someone else. That’s the best way to get out of my own head. Yes. Yes. Perfect plan.

I nearly sprint down the stairs to the front desk. Charlotte is there, typing on the computer. Pumpkin is cuddled in his bed, orange PJs present and accounted for, snoring, per usual.