Page 8

Quinn

"I'm so happy you decided to come home to California for the holidays," Lyndsey calls from the kitchen.

"This place doesn't feel like home." I drop my luggage in the foyer of the sprawling two-story mansion that our father bought when he took over hockey operations for the Santa Anna Tornadoes.

I step into the living room and take in the impressive view from the floor-to-ceiling windows and French doors opening onto a huge wrap-around deck overlooking the Pacific coast.

Lyndsey walks out of the kitchen, wearing a deep-blue sundress that flows just above her knees.

She looks, as usual, over-done and downright stunning as she carries a tray with a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses on it.

"In his defence, he could have easily bought a bachelor pad closer to Santa Anna, but he didn't," Lyndsey says. "He decided to buy a beautiful home on the beach because he wants this to feel like it's our home, too. He's excited to spend Christmas together this year, and so am I. It's been long since we've all been together as a family for the holidays."

"I know." I look out at the waves crashing against the sand.

I've gone from light and fluffy snow in Boston to sunshine and ocean air. I almost miss the festive feel of the holidays on the East Coast. It makes the holiday season feel more real and less obligatory. I haven't returned home to California for the holiday break since my first year in undergrad, and for good reason.

The holidays always felt weird and forced after our mother passed, and now they feel even weirder without Cash in my life.

This would have been our first Christmas together.

"On a little bit of a different note, I've got some good news." She studies my face before accurately deciding that she is ready to tell me. "I started a job. And before I tell you where and what I'm doing, promise me you won't flip out."

My mind immediately flashes to the worst, like she's taken a job as a stripper. All the blood must have drained from my face because Lyndsey laughed and patted my shoulder.

"Relax, Quinn. Just promise me."

"Fine," I sigh. "I promise."

"Being with Louis has made me start to think about my future. Lately, we've been talking quite a bit about our lives together, where we see ourselves in the next five years and all that stuff I hate talking about...stuff I never thought I'd ever be thinking about in my early twenties." She pauses and glances over at me.

"So, with that being said...I've decided college isn't for me. I'm not you. I will never be like you, studious and focused," she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "I've dropped out of college."

What?! I try to keep my face impassive, but it's tough not to show emotion. If she's stripping, I won't be able to keep my cool. Then, my mind flips to the next horrible alternative. She's posing for Playboy.

"I want a job that I will love," she continues and opens her eyes, snapping me out of my worries.

"A job that will allow me to move around and give me the freedom to work from wherever Louis's hockey career could take him. I can't work behind a desk or imagine pursuing graduate-level education. So when Olivia's cousin Holly offered me a job at a local salon, I accepted. I'm apprenticing to be an Esthetician. Please don't flip out."

My first reaction is relief.

I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose.

Because seriously, thank God she isn't a stripper or posing for Playboy. When I reopen my eyes, my second reaction is slightly disappointed. I can't help but be slightly unsettled with her decision to drop out of college.

But when I look at her sitting on the edge of her seat, waiting patiently for my approval, my third and final reaction is ease.

I am happy she's found something she's genuinely passionate about.

I could see Lyndsey as an Esthetician.

She loves makeup, beauty products, and pampering herself and others.

I'm pretty impressed she's put thought into her future, even though it wouldn't have been what I envisioned for her.

"Quinn, say something."

"I'm proud of you," I gush.

"You are?" Her smile starts at one corner and twists across her lips. Damn her and her cute convincing grin. "Ohmigosh. I was so scared to tell you. I thought you were going to disown me or something."

"I'm not thrilled you decided to drop out of college," I sigh. "But I can tell you put a lot of thought into your decision. I'm quite proud of you. I could see you working in that field."

She throws her arms around my neck and squeezes me tight. "Louis told me you would understand and support my decision."

"How does Louis feel about your decision to drop out of college and take on this apprenticeship?" I ask.

"He supports my decision. He made me write a pros and cons list, and he had me meditate nightly to find my inner voice. He's almost as crazy as you are," she laughs, smiling darkly. "Which is probably why I love him so much. He keeps me grounded. Just like you do."

"And what about Dad?"

"He was disappointed at first but warmed up to the idea."

I lean forward and hug her again. "You are going to be a great Esthetician."

After a quiet pause, Lyndsey pulls away, but her dress gets caught on my necklace.

"Shoot," I groan. "Don't move."

I carefully detach the necklace from her dress, able to save both.

"Good save," Lyndsey says. "I love this dress and your necklace. Did you make that recently?"

"Yes." I fiddle with the turquoise beads. "I've been making a lot of different pieces lately. I even started selling on Etsy."

"Quinn, that's so awesome," she gushes. "Any sales?"

"Yeah, quite a few. This month, I've had a hundred different orders."

"Congratulations," she says and takes a sip of her drink. "You've come a long way these past few months. I'm so glad you've finally started to move on and make some positive changes, especially regarding your choice of men."

She didn't have to say his name to know who she was referring to. Lyndsey doesn't know that I may appear happy and well put together on the outside, but on the inside, I can't seem to erase the constant ache in my heart no matter how hard I try.

"How are things going with Aiden anyway?" Her voice is curious, nosy even. "Will you see him over the holidays? Did you get him a Christmas present?"

I don't look up; instead, I mumble, "Good. Things are slow." I take a sip of my drink. "And no, I haven't bought him anything. We're still just friends who happen to make out every once in a while. We're not that serious."

"I bet he doesn't think that," she says.

"Think what?"

"That you're not that serious." Lyndsey chuckles. "Ten bucks says he buys you a Christmas present."

I shake my head. "He won't. I told him not to."

"Quinn, don't you know that in girl language, when you tell a guy not to, it means 'yes, do'?"

I forgot who I was talking to Lyndsey Ashby, Queen Bee of passive-aggressive.

"Aiden's no stranger to girl language. He has two sisters, and Vaughn is one of his best friends. He's probably already bought you something."

"Well, he better not because I didn't buy him anything. When I said for him not to, I meant it." I hope she hears the annoyance in my voice. "Trust me. He knows that."

Lyndsey remains silent, and I pull my hair up into a ponytail and lean back in the lounger. "Where is Dad? Working?" I ask, changing the subject.

"Kind of." She twirls a loose piece of her hair around her finger. "The Tornadoes have a home game tonight."

"Oh," I say, and I can feel her looking at me. Is she waiting for me to crack and bring up Cash? No way. I won't give her the satisfaction. Especially not after she congratulated me on moving on and making positive changes.

"Yeah," she says, and I can hear the hesitation in her voice. I twist my head to see her face, lips upside down in a frown and eyes apologetic. "He invited us to meet him at the game once your flight arrived, but I figured you wouldn't want to go."

"You're right. I wouldn't." I remember Cash in his hockey equipment on the ice. I don't know whether I want to scream or cry, remembering how he always looked so dominant and amazingly sexy when he played.

"Listen, I know you and Aiden are taking things slow," Lyndsey says and takes a sip of her drink. "And I know he's no sex-on-skates like Cash, but I will say he comes with zero secrets and alcoholism."

She watches me for a minute as I struggle not to react. It's a fair dig on Cash, and it's what sisters should be able to say to one another. But her words just dissolve into an awkward silence.

"Sorry," she mumbles. "I shouldn't have brought him up."

She knows better than to broach into Cash territory with me. I've clarified to her that I don't want him brought up in conversation. Even hearing his name roll off her tongue is still too painful. An awkward silence continues to linger until she speaks again.

"If it makes you feel any better, I finally broke the news to Dad about me and Louis." She watches me from the corner of her eye.

"At first, he was super pissed. He even threatened to have Louis traded until I threatened him that I would drop out of college and move with Louis to wherever Dad traded him to."

I looked over at her, and we both burst out laughing. Leave it to Lyndsey to throw a fit and get her way. He knows Lyndsey will follow through with every threat she makes. It wouldn't be the first time she out-threatened him, and I'm sure it won't be the last.

"Just be glad you ended things with Cash before Dad found out," Lyndsey says. "If he was pissed about my relationship with Louis, I can't even imagine how he would have reacted if he knew the truth about you and Cash."

I keep my face neutral, but I feel a jolt of resentment inside.

Even though Cash and I are done, I feel a little jaded knowing our Dad is okay with Lyndsey dating Louis.

For the first time in my life, I can't help but feel bothered by the different standards and rules he has for her and not me.

"Is Dad okay with your relationship now?" I ask, trying to suppress my inner irritation. "For you to tell Dad about Louis, it must be love."

"He's not happy about it, but he's accepted it." She blushes and looks down at her hands folded in her lap. "And no, it's not love. I had to tell him because it was becoming common knowledge in the Bruisers' circle. I didn't want Dad finding out from someone else."

"Sure, sure."

"Okay, Quinn, just because I had to tell Dad about my relationship with Louis does not mean wedding bells or whatever." She waves me off.

I shrugged and took a sip of my drink, enjoying her discomfort. "Whatever you say, Lynds."

________

Christmas morning comes and goes just as fast as Lyndsey rips through her presents.

Our Dad overdid it with a ten-foot-tall Christmas tree, holiday music, and a stack of gifts decorated with bows.

All of which are completely unnecessary.

Even though it's been years since our mother passed, it still feels strange making such a big ordeal about Christmas. Even more so after I open a pink Kate Spade purse followed by a brand new MacBook Air. I state how over the top this is, only to be silenced by Lyndsey oohing and awing over her loot. As our Dad handed me another present, he said he was so happy we were all together and wouldn't have it any other way.

By five o'clock, the doorbell starts to ring. Our Dad wanted to host a social Christmas dinner (catered) with a few of his invited colleagues and friends. Olivia and her family are the first ones to arrive, followed shortly after that by Louis, then a few of our Dad's Tornadoes administrative staff, and surprisingly enough, Theo.

We haven't seen each other since I handed him my resignation, and we didn't leave on the best of terms.

He gives me a cordial greeting, wishes me a "Happy Holidays," and says he would love to hear about Harvard.

While everyone settles and socializes in the living room, I slip into the kitchen, hide with the catering staff to snack on the hors d'oeuvres, and wait for the rest of our guests to arrive.

As I snack on a tray of bacon-wrapped scallops, my phone beeps with a text message from Aiden.

On my way ?

My mood shifts immediately from festive and calm to nervous and uncertain.

Suddenly, it hits me that Aiden's coming. And not just as my friend, but as my male friend I've been making out with.

I hadn't planned on inviting Aiden to Christmas dinner. Still, Lyndsey invited Vaughn, and Vaughn, without my consent, invited Aiden, thinking it was okay to extend the invitation without asking me first. I can't help but think that Aiden coming to Christmas dinner is a huge step forward in whatever this is between us.

And I'm not entirely sure I'm ready for it.

"Merry Christmas, Quinn." I turn around and face Louis, standing in the doorway. "It's been a while."

Louis pulls me in for a hug. His big, strong arms swallow me into his chest.

"Merry Christmas to you too." I pull back and look up at him with a playful grin. "I hear you were almost traded."

"Yeah," he blushes. "Your Dad isn't too pleased about me and Lyndsey. I've tried to tell him how serious I am about her, but he won't listen to me because he's too pissed off to hear me out right now. I'm lucky he even let me come for Christmas dinner."

"You're a great guy," I say. "My dad should be thankful someone is willing to put up with Lyndsey."

Louis chuckles, and I hold out a tray of some fancy-looking appetizers.

He pops a couple into his mouth, returning a pleased grin. "Tell me, how are things going with you? Harvard treating you well?" he asks.

"Yeah, the program is quite intensive."

"Anything new going on in Quinn's life?" He raises a brow.

"Nope."

"Really?" He leans against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed over his chest. "Because that's not what I heard. I heard you already moved on."

I refuse to look at him. Something about Louis's light hazel eyes and knowing smile directed at me makes me feel like he's baiting me. "I don't know what Lyndsey told you, but I'm not dating anyone. You could say I'm casually seeing Aiden. That's it."

"Right. Casual." He shrugs and turns his non-judgmental face on me. "Have you talked to Cash?"

"No." I fiddle with my bracelet. "After forty-two unanswered calls, I'm sure he got the message to leave me alone."

"I hear he's doing well in the pros," he says, and I can hear the smirk in his voice. "He already has seventeen goals and forty-one assists. And I heard he scored an endorsement deal with Hockey Gear Co."

"You've talked to him, then?" I ask and make a serious effort to keep my tone impassive.

"Nope. I haven't heard from him since he moved to the Tornadoes..." His voice trails off, and he shakes his head as his attention moves to a plate of cocktail shrimp. "I've tried calling him, texting him, but he never responds."

I'm supposed to be wholly uninterested and over him. Why does it feel then like I'm sick to my stomach? And why am I suddenly so concerned? I clear my throat and swallow my sudden panic.

"I hope Cash isn't drinking again," he says, studying me as I try to look like you would when they do not care about Cash Brooks. "He may be doing well in his career, but something's up as soon as he shuts out everyone who cares about him. I'm a little worried about him. I know you two are done, but I hoped you would have talked to him at least."

Either Louis is taunting me, or he seriously does not know about the truth Cash hid from me.

His innocent and concerned look tells me it's the latter. I promised myself I wouldn't get into a Cash conversation with Louis while I was back home.

But their lack of contact and his oblivion to Cash's secret has me curious and confused. Withholding everything from Louis feels like it's choking me.

I can't shake the thought that Louis is right and something is up with Cash. Something much darker and more profound than I know how to deal with.

The front door clicked open from the foyer, and Aiden's voice greeting my Dad ended all conversation. Louis and I both turned around to see Aiden place two packages down on the entryway table before he presented my father with a bottle of wine. My father accepts the wine, shakes his hand, and hangs his coat on a hook. I can feel Louis at my side tense at their casual and easy interaction.

"Lyndsey is waving me into the dining room," Louis grumbles.

I swallow hard and feel Louis disappear from my side.

My father beams over at me. "Quinn, Aiden is here."

"Hey." Aiden comes up to my side and kisses my cheek.

He looks good in a light-gray button-up shirt and khakis. His hair is perfectly swept to the side, as it always is, and tonight, he has a glint in his eye that I've never really noticed before.

"You look nice," I tell him.

"Thanks," he replies and reaches behind him for one of the packages on the entryway table. "I know you said no gifts, but I got you something anyway."

I can feel Lyndsey's eyes burning into my side from the living room. I casually turn my head and see her smirking, watching us. I can hear her voice saying, I told you so.

"Aiden, you really shouldn't have." I sigh and feel my cheeks heat. "I thought we agreed...I didn't get you anything."

"Yes, I should have," he assures me. "Because it's Christmas, and we're kind of, you know... I wasn't coming empty-handed. Now open it."

"Right now?"

"Yes," he says with a grin.

I slowly peel back the pink wrapping paper until a brown box appears. A heavy sense of anticipation pulses between us. Aiden with excitement. Me with apprehension. He watches me intently with a smile as I open it.

I flip open the box and stare down at a teal-blue teapot.

"Wow. A teapot."

I force an appreciative smile, only now seeing how proud he looks, how much thought he probably put into this gift, knowing how much I love drinking tea.

"I thought it could replace that ugly old floral teapot you use," Aiden says. "This one is a little more modern, making six cups of tea."

I nod, unable to look at him. What Aiden doesn't know is that that old teapot is irreplaceable. It was my mother's. I take a deep breath and promise myself I won't let him know how much I dislike it, not because it isn't beautiful, but because it would break my heart to stop using hers.

Aiden brings my hand up to his mouth and kisses the back of it. "Do you like it?"

"Of course," I lie. "Thanks." I kiss his cheek with the sickest feeling in the pit of my stomach

Behind me, I heard Lyndsey calling us into the dining room. "Dinner's about to be served."

There are far too many courses for Christmas dinner.

Every dish is better than the last, and I can't stop eating. I'm thankful for my loose-fitting dress and that I didn't opt for a tight pair of jeans. After dessert, Aiden and I help the catering staff tidy up while Lyndsey starts a game of Pictionary in the living room with everyone.

Carrying a stack of plates with Aiden at my side, I think about how pleasant and perfect our night was.

Everything about our night appeared suitable—laughter, great company, and a delicious meal.

But I can't shake the feeling that nothing feels right. Something is missing, and it is tugging at my heartstrings.

We round the corner into the kitchen and find my Dad pouring himself a whiskey on the rocks.

"Hey, Dad,"

"Quinn, Aiden," he says, lifting his drink to us. "Thanks for all your help tonight."

"No problem," Aiden pipes up. "Thanks, Mr. Ashby, for having me. Not only was the meal unbelievable, I was able to have a conversation with the general manager of the Tornadoes about the team this season. It was awesome."

My father chuckles and takes a long, slow sip of his drink. "Are you a big fan of the Tornadoes?"

"Love them," Aiden gushes.

My father nods, impressed. "Have you been to a game this year?"

"Unfortunately, no." Aiden frowns. "School has been too intense to do too much of anything else."

"The Tornadoes have a game in Boston over Spring Break. Let me get you and Quinn some tickets." My father suggests. "My treat."

My chest aches, and my stomach twists with frustration. Seriously, my annoyance can't grow any greater than it is right now.

"That's not necessary," I interject.

"Yes, it is," my father says. "Expect two tickets to the game."

"Wow," Aiden breathes out. "Thank you, Mr. Ashby."

"My pleasure." My father raises his glass to Aiden. "Just keep on taking care of my Quinn."

"Yes, of course." Aiden glances over at me with a smile. "If you'll excuse me for a second, I'll be right back."

With a small pat on my father's back, Aiden is gone from the kitchen, and my father and I stand face to face.

"You didn't have to do that." I scowl at him.

"I wanted to," he says. "I'm in good spirits and feeling quite generous. I'm thrilled to have you home this year."

I nod and heave a sigh. "Yeah, I know."

"Everything okay?" he asks.

"Yes, I'm fine."

"So, you and Aiden, huh?" He raises a brow with a smirk.

My Dad has always loved Aiden because he's always been educated, polite, and respectful. Aiden is every Dad's dream come true, which is probably why I'm so nervous. I'm terrified because I can't help but think that having Aiden here as more than a friend was a huge mistake.

"He's a fine young man. You guys were great friends growing up, and he's brilliant and driven. I was quite worried about you hanging around Cash Brooks for a while." He takes a long, slow sip of his drink, watching me over the rim of his glass.

"But I'm glad you are focused again and making good decisions."

I nod, turn away from him, and pull open the dishwasher. As I load the dishes, he says, "Don't worry about the dishes. Come join the party."

"Yes, I'll join you shortly." I'm pretending to be engrossed with cleaning up the kitchen.

"Good," he says, walking into the living room.

A few moments later, Aiden walks back into the kitchen, holding the second package he brought in when he arrived. His eyes make the circuit of my face and down over my entire body, hidden by my flowing red dress.

I clear my throat to bring his attention back to my face because his eyes are fixated on my long, bare legs. "What is that?" I ask and point to the small package he's holding.

He shrugs, "It was delivered to the apartment after you left for Santa Anna, so I brought it. I figured whoever sent it to you hoped you'd get it in time for Christmas."

I stare at the small, unfamiliar package, unable to quell my unease about who sent this to me. It's such an automatic reaction that my stomach tightens at the thought of it being from Cash.

"Are you going to open it?" Aiden asks.

I nod and flip open the box. My nerves creep back in at seeing an envelope placed on top of something wrapped gently in white tissue paper. Slowly, I slide a single piece of paper out of the envelope. I read his familiar messy handwriting, begging my pulse to slow.

I know you will make something beautiful.

Cash

"Are you okay?" Aiden asks.

The question hangs between us, and I swallow back tears, refusing to look anywhere but at Aiden.

His knowledge about my relationship with Cash is minimal compared to the number of things he knows about me.

I didn't know how to answer his question because I was not okay and hadn't even seen what was inside the box.

He steps closer, "Quinn, who is it from?"

I stuff the single sheet of paper back inside the envelope and shove it inside the box.

"Can you give me a minute alone, please?" I ask him.

He winces. "You want me to leave?" When I nod, he swipes a palm across his neck. "Yeah, for sure."

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, listening to Aiden's footsteps disappear into the living room. Once I knew I was alone, I opened the package and unwrapped the tissue paper to reveal a tiny white box. What's inside steals my breath.

It's filled with masterfully cut and polished labradorite stones. These gemstones are native to the Newfoundland/Labrador region of Canada and make the most exquisite accent for jewelry. Their blue and greenish iridescent colour looks almost magical. And these are all well-cut, beautiful, and I love them.

I can't pretend my heart doesn't twist painfully at his gesture or twist with hope, wondering if this means he's okay and not using again, as Louis suggested. I can't pretend that I still don't have feelings for him or that what I felt was missing earlier just disappeared, and suddenly, I feel whole again.

"Quinn! Are you coming to play Pictionary or what?" Lyndsey's voice shouts from the living room.

I put the lid on the tiny white box and wiped a tear from my eye.

"Yup. Be right there."