Page 37 of Meet Me at the Christmas Cottage (Jonathon Island #6)

Chapter Eighteen

P ounding on the door pulled Bronte from her thoughts.

Pushing up from the couch that she had barely moved from in the three days since she’d been home, she made her way to the door.

Only when she got there did she remember she was wearing three-day-old sweatpants, a T-shirt that hadn’t been washed since—well, she couldn’t remember when, and an old ratty house robe that she had bought with her first royalty check.

She lifted her shirt and sniffed. Cringe.

She smelled like onion rings. At least she had a bra on.

Hopefully her guest wouldn’t look down on her lack of hygiene.

Who was she kidding? She looked down on herself for the lack of hygiene. Or maybe, if she were lucky, it’d scare them off.

But when she flung the door open, her best friend stood on the other side. “Lexi?”

Lexi, red hair flowing from under a cream-colored beret that would do nothing to keep her ears warm, pushed past Bronte, arms loaded down with a suitcase, a canvas messenger bag, and shopping bags. It looked as if she’d hit up the shops in Utica Square.

“By all means, come in.”

Dropping the bags, Lexi turned and pinned Bronte with a look.

“You don’t answer your phone for three days.

That in itself was nerve-racking, although I knew you were still alive because I saw you active on Instagram.

Fine, you were ghosting me, whatever. But I fly all the way out here, with presents”—she motioned to the shopping bags at her feet—“and you leave me banging on your front door for five minutes? I’m pretty sure your neighbors were going to call the cops on me.

And why didn’t you tell me you had a hot neighbor?

He literally looks like Ryan Reynolds. I almost had a heart attack when I saw him in the elevator. ”

“He has a girlfriend.”

Lexi’s face screwed up. “Is it serious?”

Bronte shrugged. “What are you doing here?”

“I was worried about you.” Lexi’s shoulders lifted.

“But not so worried you couldn’t take a shopping spree first?” Bronte pointed at the bags at Lexi’s feet.

Lexi looked down as if she just realized all the bags were there. “I got off the plane and didn’t want to come empty-handed.”

“Empty-handed? Lexi, you just flew a thousand miles. You are gift enough.” Bronte pulled Lexi into a hug. She hadn’t realized how much she’d needed to see her friend. Bronte was already starting to feel better. Something that had felt dull inside her was coming back to life.

Lexi pushed back from their hug. “Okay. Who are you, and what have you done with my friend?”

Bronte’s mouth lifted in half a smile. “I’m just really glad you’re here.”

“That’s fine and all, but you’ve never given me a hug the entire time I’ve known you.”

Bronte frowned. “That can’t be right.” She bent over to help Lexi pick up her scattered bags. Her suitcase had to weigh a hundred pounds. “Are you planning on moving in?”

Lexi chewed on her lips. “I wasn’t sure how long you would need me.”

“Need you?” Bronte motioned to Lexi to follow her down the hall, toward her spare bedroom.

“You sounded upset on the phone when you left Jonathon Island, and I know you have this book you’re trying to finish…” Lexi trailed off.

“Did your mother send you to keep an eye on me to make sure I get this book done?”

Lexi rolled her green eyes. “Of course not.” She leaned in closer as if to tell a secret, even though there wasn’t anyone else around. “I didn’t actually tell her you haven’t finished yet.”

“I’m almost done,” Bronte promised, opening the door to her spare bedroom and depositing Lexi’s suitcase in the middle of the bed.

“I only have around forty thousand words left, and then I’m going to do a really fast read-through and then—” Bronte choked on her words.

She was supposed to have finished this book on Jonathon Island.

Try as she might, she couldn’t stop thinking of the reason she hadn’t finished yet.

Tears stung her eyes as she blinked rapidly to keep them from falling.

“Are you okay?” Lexi’s whisper came from the hallway, almost as if she was too afraid to step into the bedroom.

Bronte sighed, teeth working her bottom lip. Staring at the blank wall of her guest bedroom, she couldn’t help but remember the warmth of Holland’s home.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Lexi stepped into the room.

“I think I fell in love with him.” A warm tear trickled a path down Bronte’s cheek. She swiped it away, giving Lexi a watery smile. “But it’s fine. I know I’m meant to be alone, and Jonah’s meant to be with someone that can give him lots of babies.”

“No, Bronte.”

Bronte shook her head. She thought she’d cried all her tears. She didn’t have time for this. She needed to get that book done, and if she let herself start up again, she wasn’t sure she’d stop. “I’ve never hated my lack of uterus more.”

“Oh, honey.” Lexi crossed the room in three steps and pulled Bronte into a hug.

Sobs racked Bronte’s body. “I promised myself I was done crying over a man,” she blubbered.

“And I’ve been crying too much already. At least I made it to the plane before I fell apart the first time.

The flight attendant felt bad for me and bumped me up to first class.

” Bronte let out a groan. “I’m so sick and tired of crying.

Oh my goodness, I’m slobbering all over you. ”

“Who cares?” Lexi said, hugging her tighter.

“For so long I didn’t think I had anyone,” Bronte shuddered out. “And then I had Brad for years, but after spending two weeks with Jonah, I’m pretty sure what I had with Brad was never love.”

“Well, thank goodness you’ve realized that.” Lexi huffed a sigh of relief.

Bronte choke-laughed and wiped a hand across her face. “I just wanted a place to belong for so long, but how did I completely miss that you’re my person, Lexi? I mean, who else would get on a plane and fly halfway across the country because she didn’t feel like talking on the phone?”

Lexi’s simple “That’s not why I came” had Bronte choking up again.

“Thank you for coming all this way,” she mumbled into Lexi’s shoulder, finally feeling the tears subside.

“Of course.” With one more squeeze, Lexi released her and took a step back. “Now. I’m not sure about you, but I’m starving. I know you have a book to write, but why don’t we go get something to eat?”

Bronte’s stomach grumbled as if it were agreeing with Lexi.

Now that Bronte thought about it, she wasn’t sure when she’d last had real food.

The sour gummies and microwaved popcorn had maybe kept something in her belly, but it hadn’t been enough.

A pain shot through her heart as she remembered Jonah making sure she ate while she worked.

She nodded to answer Lexi, but also to try and shake the memories away.

Lexi scrunched her face. “You should probably take a shower first.”

Bronte laughed. “You’re a good friend, Lexi.”

“Of course I am. Now, go shower so we can get out of here and you can get back to work as a human. I’m going to unpack.”

Bronte allowed herself to be pushed toward her own room, a smile on her face.

She hadn’t realized the heaviness she’d felt on her chest at the weight of her unconfessed love.

But being able to tell Lexi—and Lexi not thinking she had lost her mind—made Bronte feel lighter.

Maybe she would be able to salvage some of her broken heart after all.

* * *

Lexi had been right. Bronte did feel more like a human after having a shower and eating real food. Bronte had taken Lexi to Hideaway, her favorite pizza place on Cherry Street.

Turned out, when there was food in her belly and a friend by her side, she could write a lot faster.

Bronte generally didn’t like writing at night, but due to the looming deadline, she forced herself to.

At least she found it easier to write the sad depressing book she had originally planned.

She’d been delusional to ever think she could write a rom-com.

“Ready for some more tea?” Lexi held out a fresh cup of steaming chai.

Bronte set her laptop aside and stretched her arms over her head, accepting the cup and letting the scent of ginger and cinnamon warm her insides. “Thanks.”

“How’s it going?”

“At this rate, I might finish a little ahead of what I thought.” Maybe there was something to writing while she wasn’t depressed.

Lexi turned and plopped down in Bronte’s wingback chair, then grabbed a manuscript she’d brought with her. How she didn’t slosh hot tea all over her was an art form. “When can I read it?”

Bronte chewed on her bottom lip. At least this time, thinking of Jonah hadn’t brought tears to her eyes. When would this stop being so hard?

“Uh-oh. What’s that look for?”

Bronte shook her head.

“You’re thinking about him again.” Lexi reached over and squeezed Bronte’s hand. “Aren’t you?”

Bronte cringed. “Is it that obvious?”

“Your face looked like someone just burned your only copy of a manuscript. While you watched.”

“I can’t get him out of my mind, Lex. He was supposed to be my first read.”

Lexi feigned being shocked. “I thought I was always your first read.”

“I know, and it would be so much simpler if I’d just kept it that way.

I can’t stop thinking about him. I only knew him for ten days, Lexi.

He shouldn’t be so ingrained into my marrow.

” Bronte traced a finger around the top of her teacup.

“I should have booked it out of there as soon as he walked through the door.”

“If I recall right, there was a massive snowstorm and there wouldn’t have been anywhere for you to go.”

“Well, then I should have locked myself in my room until he left. This all could have been avoided if I’d insisted that we not stay together.”

Lexi studied Bronte over her mug. “I don’t know, Bront. It seems like maybe you were supposed to meet.”