Warmth in Ice
Page 20

I rolled my head to look at my best friend. She rolled her eyes. “Mags, if I thought you were flying all that way to spend time with the Clay that we knew last year, I’d never let you go. I’d chain your ass to your bed and keep you here. He needed to change. Otherwise a relationship between the two of you would never work,” she said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“What if I don’t know how to be with this Clay? What if I fly down there and we both realize that our time is over? That the people we are now don’t fit together anymore? I don’t know if I would be able to survive that.” I sounded sad and more than a little pathetic but the fear in my gut was consuming.
“Look, I’m not expert on relationships but I do know that what you and Clay have is something special. And if it’s meant to be, it will. Though I can’t imagine two people who have fought so hard to be together allowing anything, least of all time and distance, to destroy what they have. But if for some reason things are different, then either you learn to be these new people together or you move on. Those really are your only options. So stop driving yourself crazy with scenarios that may not even happen,” Rachel lectured.
“I’m not sure if that was helpful or not,” I muttered just as Daniel came back into the bedroom with a plate full of cookies. When Rachel tried to take one, he pulled the plate out of her reach.
“These are mine, go get your own,” he warned, stuffing his face.
Rachel looked at me. “Great boyfriend huh?” I laughed and allowed myself to be pulled to my feet. “Let’s go raid the kitchen. Your mom gone has into Christmas cookie overload and since Mr. Stingypants isn’t sharing, we had better get our share before there isn’t anything left.”
“Ma’am, the pilot has turned on the seatbelt sign. We’re starting to descend,” the flight attendant said, waking me from my fitful nap. I wiped my mouth, checking for drool and smiled in thanks.
Realizing I was so close to Clay had my heart racing in my chest. After boarding the plane two and a half hours ago, I had immediately fallen asleep. I had stayed up late last night with Rachel and Daniel after having our Christmas dinner and opening presents.
I knew that my parents were upset about not having me around for Christmas day but they had tried to hide it as best they could. They shocked the hell out of me by giving me a small wrapped gift before leaving me at the airport.
“This is for Clay, from your dad and me. It’s not much. Just a little something,” my mom had said, pressing the package into my hand before I went through security.
I blinked in surprise. “That’s really sweet of you, Mom. I’ll make sure he gets it,” I had said, giving her a hug. Then I had turned to hug my dad.
“Call us when you get there and please call us on Christmas. And make sure you keep your phone on you at all times and pay attention to your purse. There are pickpockets everywhere,” my mother rambled. This was hard for her. Perhaps even harder than leaving me at school. I was traveling, over a thousand miles away, on my own.
“I will. Stop worrying so much!” I insisted, still trapped in my parents’ death grip.
When I was finally able to pull away, I gave them a reassuring smile. “Love you and thank you, for everything,” I said, holding up Clay’s gift.
My dad patted my cheek. “We love you too, Maggie May. We hope you and Clay have a wonderful Christmas,” he said warmly. Then I had left them, feeling better than I had in a long time.
When the plane touched down on the runway and taxied into the gate, I was a ball of restless energy. My brief nap had energized me and I could barely contain my nervous excitement.
I had spoken to Clay last night and tried to surreptitiously ask about his schedule for today. With it being the day before Christmas, Clay hadn’t planned to do much more than to stay at the house and wait for Ruby, who unbeknownst to him wouldn’t be coming into town for another two days.
I couldn’t get off the plane fast enough. I got my carry on out from the overhead compartment, almost smacking the guy who had been sat beside me in the face. Which would have been a nice case of karma, given that I totally caught him stealing my pretzels while he thought I was asleep.
Mr. Pretzel Stealer made an exasperated noise under his breath and shot me a look of perturbed annoyance that I barely noticed.
“Sorry,” I muttered. I was way too fixated on my complex mixture of emotions to give it another though. Nerves and excitement warred against the overwhelming urge to freak the f**k out. Which was so ridiculous. This was Clay. And he was everything to me.
You would think after walking into the dark so many times for this boy, that making an impromptu visit to Florida in order to surprise him for Christmas should have been a walk in the park.
I wish I could sort out why this felt so monumental. Why my entire world seemed hinged on what would greet me forty-five minutes away.
After waiting for what felt like forever for my bag, I finally left the airport and walked out into Florida’s warm December air.
I hailed a cab and gave him Clay’s address. I sat in the back seat and stared out the window, my heart hammering in my chest and trickles of sweat, that had nothing to do with the heat, dripping down the back of my neck.
The cabbie tried to engage me in meaningless chitchat about the unseasonable warmth. Apparently this was the warmest Christmas on record. I nodded my head and feigned interest but my mind was definitely not on the weather.