Page 50 of Thaw My Heart

“Refreshingly boring?”

Averie laughs, shaking her head. “Look, I may not love it here like you do, but I meet a lot of people, Sadie, and you stand out. You’re a vibrant wildflower in a sea of dull weeds.”

Blush fills my cheeks at her comparison to me and a wildflower.

“Oh!” She exclaims with a wide smile. “That’s good!” She reaches for a napkin, pulling an ink pen from her pink Prada bag, quickly writing down her words.

“Well, I do consider myself a rockstar,” I tease, watching her while she writes. “And I often call myself a wildflower.” Like the night I referred to myself as one when I danced with Kit… Butterflies form in my stomach at the memory of his hands on me, quickly turning sour. He’s had me in his arms several times now, and not one of those times has he tried to make a move.

All Kit ever seems to want is to push me away.

“Do you like to sing?” she asks, shoving the pen and napkin back in her purse.

I shake away the anger cinching my heart, turning back to her. “I’m terrible at it, but my dancing skills are top-notch.” No matter how hard I’ve tried to sing over my life, it’s never been a career that’s going to happen for me. But finding the rhythm has always been easy.

Averie laughs, reaching for my hand. “I want to show you something.”

At the edge of town, we pull up to a three-story colonial-style home with blue shutters, surrounded by white fences and horses grazing in the frosty fields. The grand estate of the Knox family—decorated in an assortment of Christmas lights and wreaths on every door with candlesticks in the windows.

“My parents go a little crazy this time of year,” Averie says as we step inside the prettiest home I’ve ever seen.

There’s a mixture of Thanksgiving and Christmas decorations around every polished surface. Ribbons and lights wrap around everything in sight. “Are you sure they’re okay with dogs?” I ask Averie.

But before she can respond, a well-dressed man with a trim brown beard turns the corner, smiling at us brightly. Not too long after, a woman with shoulder-length blonde hair steps up beside him, grinning with delight. Their resemblance to Averie is uncanny. The man’s eyes are green, just like hers. And the woman has Averie’s oval face shape and her smile.

“My little sparrow—oh! Who’s this?” he asks.

“Mom. Dad. This is Sadie,” Averie introduces us. “Sadie, this is Reese and Grayson Knox.”

“Welcome to our home,” Reese says, taking my hand. Quickly, offering me tea and snacks, which Averie declines because she already has plans for us.

Before I can thank them for the offer, Averie puts her hand on my shoulders and steers me towards the grand staircase, weaving all the way to the top floor.

We spend the next few hours in Averie’s studio, getting to know each other, laughing, and listening to Shania Twain while writing silly poems. Fox lounges on a fluffy white rug, and after a while, Averie begins to play at a grand white piano, while I fiddle with her silver guitar.

The sound of her voice still catches me off guard—soft, earthy, with an airy texture that’s as sweet as a sparrow.

Just like her nickname, little sparrow.

After she plays a few songs, she teaches me how to play the guitar. A simple song called “The Horse with No Name,” a song that I’m quite familiar with and enjoy. She laughs as I sing along, but my voice is not made for singing. Although my guitar skills improve quickly, which impresses her.

“Rhythm, it’s all I have,” I tease, thrumming along.

She laughs, poking me in the ribs. “It’s not as bad as you made it out to be. Just relax your throat. Use your core,” she places her hand on my stomach.

I do as she says, and it improves, but only slightly.

My singing skills are going to take time, but some part of me feels like this is right. The guitar in my hands feels good, like it’s meant for me. But damn, it’s painful. After an hour, the pain radiating in my fingertips and wrists is too much, so I call it good enough for a first lesson.

Averie’s mother, Reese, comes in moments later and sets down a tray of sugar cookies, smiling and stealing one as she goes. I can’t help but notice how shiny Averie’s life is. A mother who adores her. A father who beams with joy when she comes home. She’s a girl who grew up with everything. Everything I dreamt of when I was a little girl.

Everything I never had.

Usually, I can’t stand people like her, but Averie isn’t like other stuck-up rich people I’ve met. She’s kind and genuine. She may have grown up with money and fancy things, but at her core, she’s down to earth—graceful and kind. I’ve only known her for a short time, but I already adore her. We’re different people, but something about us just clicks. She makes me feel… good. Safe. Like I can be myself around her, and she would never judge me for it.

“I grew up on a farm in Nebraska,” I murmur.

Averie turns her attention towards me, pulling her knees to her chest, waiting for me to continue with soft eyes.