Page 12 of One Last Gift

The music pounded from inside the wooden bar, reaching where Cassie and Hazel stood, clutching their beers, among the hoard of people outside in the snow. You could just make out the shape of the mountains looming above them in the background, and a massive Christmas tree stood to one side, with a star on top that must have taken a giant ladder to reach.

Hazel grinned as she looked around at the people chatting or just starting to dance as the night took hold. “I love it here,” she said contentedly, and Cassie laughed. Her body felt tense, though. Tom and Sam had been gone for a good half an hour and she couldn’t see them anywhere. She was being ridiculous. They were perfectly entitled to go off if they wanted to—and she knew they wouldn’t actually leave them here. But still…Her earlier conversation with Sam played on her mind. The way he’d looked at her. She’d been so sure that he was just worried about Tom—which she got. The whole must-not-date-sister thing was some sort of bro-code, right? But what if she’d read the entire thing wrong? It made her stomach tighten.

Hazel caught her looking around—again—and gave her a sly look. “Looking for someone in particular?”

Cassie ignored her and sipped her beer. She hadn’t told Hazel about the kiss—kisses—yet. Mainly because she wanted to tell Tom first—and she wasn’t quite sure that Hazel would be able to keep the truth hidden when they were all in such proximity to one another.

Cassie jumped, swearing softly under her breath as Tom came up behind them and slung an arm over her shoulder. “Isn’t this great?” he asked, his head nodding in time to the music. “We should have Christmas here every year.”

Cassie snorted. “Like we could afford it.”

He jabbed her in the ribs. “Spoilsport.”

She jabbed him back. “Fantasist.”

“Oooh, burn,” Tom said sarcastically, then laughed, squeezing her shoulder. “Christmas Day tomorrow.”

Cassie looked up at him, blinking innocently. “Really? I’d forgotten.”

“Oi, be nice, otherwise—”

“No treasure hunt for me.” She waved a hand. “Yes, yes, heard the threat plenty of times.” And she knew he’d never stick to it—he liked seeing her complete it as much as she liked doing it. She wondered if he’d do it outside, too, make her go hunting in the snow—a real White Christmas.

“So, where’s Sam?” she asked, trying to sound casual. Tom shrugged, though she saw Hazel’s green eyes snap to her, not missing a thing. “He’s over there with some girls.” He waved a hand to their left, over to where the Christmas tree was, and Cassie’s gaze whirled in that direction, her stomach lurching. With some girls?

“You didn’t want to try your luck then, Rivers?” Hazel said, as Cassie scanned the crowd.

“Ah, you know me, I wait for them to come to me.”

“Sureeee,” Hazel said, dragging out the “e.” “It has nothing to do with a certain Amy, of course.”

There. She saw him. That head of messy brown hair, broad shoulders, in that deep-blue ski jacket. Her heart jumped—and then dropped. Because he was with a bunch of girls. And he was standing close to a particular girl with shiny chestnut hair. Running a hand down her arm. Stepping in closer to her, bowing his head.

No. She took a breath, tried to stop watching, but her eyes seemed glued in place. No. What was he doing? Was he actually going to…? Yes. Oh my God, he was kissing her. He was actually kissing this random stranger after he…

She felt sick. Physically sick. She backed away…felt, rather than saw, Hazel watching her. “Are you…?” But Cassie shook her head, shoved her half-finished beer into Hazel’s hand, and turned away. Dimly, she heard Hazel speak behind her, in a firm, cold voice. “I’ll be right back, Rivers.”

Cassie kept walking, barging her way through the crowd. She wasn’t sure where, exactly, she was going, just knew that she couldn’t be here. Couldn’t be near him, couldn’t watch as he…Oh God. This wasn’t happening. How could he do this to her? On Christmas Eve? Right in front of her? This was Sam, he was her friend, he was her…something. And he’d just…Tears were burning her eyes and she let out a muffled sob, even as she tried to keep it in, tried to stop her emotions from overflowing.

“Cassie!” She closed her eyes at the sound of his voice, kept on walking. “Cassie, wait!”

But she would not wait. Clearly, Hazel had gone to get him, but it had taken Hazel to go up to him to even make him think about her.

She felt a hand on her arm, pulling her around before she shrugged it off. And there he was. Sam, staring at her, his face twisted into a grimace. “Cassie, I’m—”

“Don’t,” she snapped, a sob bursting through her at the same time. “Don’t say that you’re sorry.” Her voice was bitter, scathing. Good.

“But I am,” he insisted. He pulled both hands through his hair, the way he did when he was stressed. “I didn’t mean to—”

“To what? Get with another girl in front of me? After you kissed me?” But it wasn’t the kiss—or not just the kiss. She’d told him, hadn’t she, how much it meant to her? There was no way he could pretend not to know. She’d opened herself up, admitted it, because she’d felt sure he felt the same, and now he…

She held in the next sob, tried to turn away from him. She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t have this conversation with him. “Go away, Sam.”

He blocked her, moving so that he was still in her line of vision. “I tried to tell you,” he said, his tone pleading. “I tried to tell you that I didn’t…that I couldn’t…”

“Couldn’t what?” she snapped. “Be with me?”

His wince was enough to tell her. Yes. Yes—that was what he’d come into her room to tell her. It wasn’t Tom he was unsure about, it was her.