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“What is it?” Leo says.
He tilts his head, examining my face.
I look into his eyes, tawny brown, but that could never capture all the depth of color dancing there. Leo’s eyes are lit from within, golden lights, as wild as whatever lives inside him.
Softly, he says, “You have snowflakes in your eyelashes.”
So does Leo. Also, snowflakes in his hair, pale stars nestled in the dark waves. They melt the moment they touch his warm, brown skin.
Leo looks like he toasted just a little longer than the rest of us, like he burns a little hotter.
He’s not like anyone else.
Even surrounded by people I love, Leo’s special to me, precious. A bond so tight it hurts.
If I asked him for something right now, for anything, he’d give it to me.
But I don’t know what to ask.
Promise me this won’t be our last Christmas…
Promise me you’ll never change…
Impossible things. Stupid things. Things that no one can promise.
Promise me I’ll never lose you…
Even that, no one can say. Either one of us could die tonight, struck by lightning. Or in our case, probably something a bit more personal…
So instead, I ask of him, “Promise me that we’ll always be friends.”
Leo’s smile spreads slow across his face, illuminating each feature in turn until his eyes are aflame.
“Anna…” His voice is low and secret. It warms me to my toes. “You know I couldn’t stop. Even if I wanted to.”
The joy that burns inside of me is fierce and hot and dangerous.
That’s what I cling to, like a bright bead of gold that I swallow while it’s still molten hot: Leo will always be my best friend.
Headlights sweep across the yard.
Leo turns. “Looks like everyone’s arriving…”
“Everyone”means every single one of our aunts and uncles and all the cousins. They’ve traveled here to commemorate our last holiday at home, even Dante and Simone, all the way from Paris, and Raylan and Riona from their ranch in Tennessee, with their four redheaded sons.
Simone and her daughter Serena come up the walk first, their arms full of wrapped gifts. Serena looks impossibly beautiful and stylish in her Parisian coat and high-heeled boots. I’m not surprised to see the three oldest Boone boys fighting over who gets to take the packages out of her hands.
Only Teddy, the youngest, remains immune to the charms of our gorgeous foreign cousin, much more interested in tearing around the house with my little brother Whelan.
It’s not Serena’s fault she’s so stunning—her mother is a supermodel, after all. And I can’t even hate her for it because she’s so damned nice.
“I brought you some of your favorite macarons.” She presses an elegantly wrapped package into my hands then kisses me on both cheeks.
Her older brother, Henry, does the same, taking my arm to help me back up the icy walk.
“No kiss for me?” Leo says with a slightly strained smile.
“How about a hug…” Henry releases my arm.
