Page 19 of Christmas Bubble

He seems disappointed that I declined the invite, but just as I’ve seen him do several times around other people, he quickly turns it into a smile.

I leave his cabin and walk over to mine, picking up my abandoned toolbox before going inside.

The temperature inside is now considerably more comfortable.

I sit on the couch in front of the fireplace and think of Bubble. He acts like he’s made of Teflon, but something tells me there’s more to him than meets the eye.

Maybe I’ve been a little too quick to judge, but it’s hard to think straight around the guy who has somehow found a way to rattle my cage like no one else.

I’ve managed football players, the press, and my ex-wife, and not once have I lost my composure. What is it about this guy that seems to shake my foundations like he’s found the winning Jenga piece?

A crumbling tower of memories crashes inside my head, one overriding them all.

Ben.

I can’t remember the last time I thought of him.

He’s who Bubble reminds me of. The boy who was so special, so alive, so beautiful, so generous, so kind that he was too good for this world.

My chest is suddenly too tight, but there’s no point thinking about a past I can’t change.

I just know I need to be careful around Bubble.

8

BUBBLE

I stirthe mint candy cane in my cup and take a sip of my cocoa, letting it warm me from the inside out. Hmm, I love mint-chocolate hot cocoa.

Shame Coach didn’t want to stay to have one. Maybe I could have convinced him to have dinner with me or watch a Christmas movie.

He can say what he likes, but the way he keeps looking at me? It’s giving me whiplash.

On the one hand, he runs. On the other, he stares at me like if I was a candy cane, he would lick me.

Of course, I had to go ruin it by being sassy.

“Not everyone can take your brand of crazy, Bubble. Sometimes you need to let them in gently,” I say Juju’s words aloud, like a mantra.

Speaking of which.

I put my phone on its love-heart stand and video call Juju.

This time when she answers, she’s on her couch holding a glass of wine.

“What’s up, babe? Afraid I’ve changed my mind about going?”

“I’m glad one of us has the stronger stuff,” I say.

Her expression changes immediately, and she sits straighter. My bestest friend. Always ready to defend me. Always willing to kick someone’s ass for me.

“Oh, Juju, what do I do? He’shere. Like, justthere. You know, before, I didn’t know where he was when he wasn’t there, but now he’s justthere,” I say a little too dramatically, even for me.

“You’re making as much sense as ice cream and fries,” she says.

“What? That’s gross.”

“Hey, don’t judge. It was the cheerleading finals, and I landed badly coming down from the pyramid. I hurt my ankle, and he-who-shall-not-be-named was a dick. I got home. There was drinking with my roomie. Thus, ice cream and fries ensued.”