When we part, Spencer’s brows dip as his hands shift to gently swipe my cheeks. His fingers come away damp. I’m not sure whether the tears are fresh or if they’re from earlier. From the dismay creeping over Spencer’s features, I don’t think it would matter.

  I swear I can feel the air chill around me as he steps back and takes his coat from the closet. He doesn’t look at me as he loops his scarf around his neck and crams his arms into his coat.

  “Spencer, what—”

  “I’m sorry, Hollie, I shouldn’t have done that.” His words are quick, voice low. “You’re emotional and vulnerable, and I shouldn’t have taken advantage.”

  “You didn’t,” I tell him. “I wanted you to kiss me. Both times.”

  I thought my words would put him at ease, but if anything, he’s even more flustered. His phone rings again and he lets out a low growl as he wrenches it from his pocket and silences it. A sense of relief ignites inside me; maybe this isn’t about me. Maybe Spencer is projecting because he’s overwhelmed by his own emotions and everything he’s had to deal with recently. Everything he’s still dealing with if the number of phone calls he receives is any indication.

  When he straightens from lacing his boots, I put my hand on his arm. “I’m so glad you found us at the diner today, and I’m grateful for everything that’s happened since. You’ve made a real difference in Jordy’s life.

  This finally gets a smile out of him, even if it’s hesitant and a bit wobbly around the edges. “I feel the same. And not just about Jordy.”

  The way we stand staring at each other feels like a face-off of sorts. For a brief, wonderful instant, I think he’s going to kiss me again. The moment is shattered by the ringing of his phone.

  Spencer sighs and silences it once more. “I’m sorry.”

  I wave off the apology. “Are you coming to my birthday party on Friday?”

  “Do you still want me there?”

  I nearly laugh at the question until I realize he’s serious. “Of course I do.”

  “Then I’ll be there.” He brushes past me, pausing with his back turned before spinning around to place a barely-there kiss on my cheek. “Thank you for…for everything today. Good night, Hollie.”

  And then he’s gone, and I’m left standing in the doorway with the swirling snow cooling my overheated cheeks. Looks like that roller coaster isn’t quite finished with me yet.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  On Friday, December sixteenth, I have a moment of panic when I wake up and my eyes land on the bedside clock. Then I remember it’s my birthday—my thirty-fifth birthday—and I took the day off work.

  I flop back in bed and spread out like a starfish. I can do whatever I want today. I have nowhere to be and nothing to do until tonight, when my friends are throwing me a small party at Connelly’s Pub. I wanted to keep things simple, and even suggested dinner at my place, but my friends insisted I deserved something more special than a regular night at home.

  Remaining in my splayed position, I reach for my phone on the bedside table. I grin when I see the string of texts awaiting me.

  Louisa: Happy birthday, my beautiful bestie! I hope you’re still sleeping and that you have a wonderfully relaxing day. Can’t wait to celebrate with you tonight. Love you so, so much!

  Evie: Happy, happy birthday! Welcome to the thirty-five club! Hope you have the best day. Excited to dance the night away with my favorite Dancing Queen. Love you!

  Stella: Happy birthday, Hols! This is going to be an amazing year for you, I can feel it. See you tonight! Love you forever and ever. xoxo

  I’m a blubbering mess by the time I move on to the rest of the texts. Despite feeling unbelievably grateful and so loved, I can’t ignore the bubble of sadness that sits heavily in my chest. Birthdays are always bittersweet for me. I can’t help remembering childhood celebrations before my life was turned upside down.

  My parents always went all out and made sure I had a proper celebration despite the fact Christmas was a little over a week away. That all changed when my mom left; my dad completely forgot my birthday that first year. I would have been okay with allowing the day to pass by unnoticed, but my friends wouldn’t allow it. With the help of Evie’s and Stella’s parents, my friends threw together an epic Sweet Sixteen party for me. Evie’s parents even took the four of us to Niagara Falls during Christmas break that year. Ever since then, my friends have made sure my birthday was special, and I know today will be no different.

  I’ve just returned from the bathroom when there’s a light knock on my bedroom door. It opens a second later and Jordy pokes her head in.

  “Get back in bed,” she orders.

  “I’m ready to start the day, though.”

  She steps into the room, brandishing a large tray. “Can’t have breakfast in bed if you’re not in bed. Happy birthday, by the way.”

  Oh great, here come the waterworks again. I should probably just accept the fact I’m going to cry a lot today.

  Jordy sets the tray on the bed and tells me she’ll be right back. While she’s gone, I take in the two plates laden with fluffy scrambled eggs, strips of crisp bacon, toast, small bunches of grapes, and orange slices. Jordy scurries back into the room with another tray, this one holding cups of coffee and glasses of orange juice.

  “I can’t believe you did all this,” I say as we get settled in my bed. “You’ve been holding out on me, Jordyn Jenkins. This looks incredible.”

  She shrugs off my praise. “It’s basic stuff. My nephew went through a phase earlier this year where all he’d eat was scrambled eggs, so I pretty much had to learn to make them.”

  I have a piece of bacon halfway to my mouth when I realize something. “We didn’t have bacon in the house. Or grapes. Or…well almost everything you’ve just served me.”

  “Would you believe me if I told you the birthday fairy helped me out?” she asks, her face a mask of innocence.

  “Oh? And what did this birthday fairy look like? Tall and impeccably dressed with perfect makeup, despite the early hour? Curvy with blue-streaked sandy hair and a nose ring? Or maybe short with huge brown eyes and a sweet-looking face?”

  Jordy shakes her head. “More like…five-ten with great hair and a British accent.”

  I nearly choke on a grape. “Spencer? Spencer was here? He brought this stuff? When? How? He’s not still here, is he?” We haven’t seen each other since Monday night, although we’ve spoken a few times, including a text last night where he assured me he’d be at my party.

  Jordy laughs so hard, she tips over on the bed. “You should see your face!” she cries between gasping breaths. I shove her arm, which only makes her laugh harder. Her amusement is contagious, and soon I’m laughing too.

  When she finally collects herself, she lets out a long sigh and wipes her eyes. “Spencer isn’t still here, so don’t worry about him suddenly popping into your room and seeing your bed head and snowflake jammies. I got the idea for breakfast last night, but knew there was no way I’d have time to go to the store, get back, and cook before you got up. I called Spencer and asked for help, and he dropped everything off on his way to work. He said to say happy birthday and he’ll see you tonight.”

  “Wow. Well, I couldn’t ask for a better start to my day. Thank you, Jordy.”

  Silence falls as we go back to eating. Jordy is the first to speak. “Would you mind dropping me off at my sister’s later? I want to spend some time with her and the kids before I go. I can do my homework there.”

  Jordy’s last day of school was this past Tuesday. Christmas break doesn’t start until the end of next week, but Jordy didn’t see the point of attending school when she’ll be leaving soon anyway. She’s doing her classes online until Christmas break begins and then she’ll be starting school in Calgary in January.

  “Sure. Are you going to get ready for the party here or take your stuff with you?”

  She tilts her head, looking at me as if I’m speaking a foreign language. “I figured I’d spend the night at my sister’s to get out of your hair for a bit.”

  Despite the disappointment that settles heavily in my stomach, I try not to let it creep into my face or tone. “So you’re not coming to the party?”

  Jordy’s laugh is as bewildered as her expression. “Well, no? You’re turning thirty-five and your party is at a bar. I assumed you’d just want your friends there and not some underage high schooler.”

  Now it’s my turn to laugh. “I’m so stupid. You assumed I wouldn’t want you there, while I assumed you’d be coming, so it didn’t occur to me to formally invite you. You’re not just some random underage high schooler, Jordy, you’re my friend. I can understand if you don’t want to come, but if you do, I want you there.”

  Her cheeks flush. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel like you have to invite me just because I’m living here. I can spend the night at my sister’s. I thought I’d do that anyway in case you want to bring Spencer home to—”

  “Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” I blurt. “Spencer and I are friends, that’s it. There will be no bringing him home to…” I trail off, flustered. “There will be no bringing him home, period.”

  Jordy rolls her eyes. “Yeah, okay, whatever you say, Hol.”

  I give her a narrow-eyed look. “I want you at my party,” I tell her, deciding it’s best to guide the topic back to safer ground. “My friends would love to meet you. And if you’re bored, I won’t be offended if you bail early and come home.”

  “And miss seeing the dancing queen herself in action? I don’t think so.” She pops a grape into her mouth and chews slowly. “I’d like to come. This might be my last chance to meet your friends. There’s just one problem.”

  “I’m not getting you a fake ID if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  She scoffs, slapping my arm. “As if. No, I don’t have anything to wear.”

  I think about the contents of my closet, immediately dismissing any option that comes to mind. I’m sure Jordy would die of embarrassment to be seen in any of my clothes, plus they’d be too big for her anyway. We had plans to go shopping this weekend; Jordy wants to spend a bit of the money Spencer loaned her on some new clothes. She confided in me a few months ago that she was never actively bullied at school, but everyone knew she was poor and knew about her family’s problems. Part of the fresh start she’s hoping for in Calgary includes a wardrobe refresh to replace her worn out hand-me-downs and ill-fitting thrift store finds.

  “How would you feel about bumping our weekend shopping trip to today?” I ask. “I wouldn’t mind a little birthday retail therapy. Maybe some lunch at the diner, and then a trip to Cravings for something sweet?”

  Jordy’s eyes go comically wide. “You realize it’s your birthday today, not mine, right?”

  “Let’s call it a general celebration. My birthday, prep for your new start, and a bit of early Christmas cheer thrown in for good measure since you won’t be here for the holidays.”

  She snatches up her fork and stuffs her face with several huge bites of what’s left on her plate. I guess I can take that as a ‘yes’.

  *****

  After a jam-packed day of shopping, eating, and admiring the holiday decorations around town, Fergus picks Jordy and me up at seven to take us to Connelly’s.

  As Jordy chatters away to Fergus from the back of the car, I relax into my seat, watching the city lights speed by in a blur of colors. If someone had told me a few months ago that I’d have a seventeen-year-old not only living with me but also attending my thirty-fifth birthday party, I would have laughed myself silly. As responsible and mature as I consider myself, I didn’t think I was equipped to be a stand-in parent to anyone, even someone who’s almost technically an adult herself.

  The irony is that, despite all the responsibilities in my life, having Jordy live with me these last two weeks has made me feel like a teenager again in some ways. I can’t remember the last time I laughed so much, ate so much, or had so many late nights marathon-watching TV shows when I knew I should be in bed. Added to that are the butterflies I experience whenever Spencer is around. I haven’t experienced this light, bubbly feeling in ages. Maybe ever.

  “You all right, lass?” Fergus’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.

  Before I can answer, Jordy lets out a delighted giggle. “You said ‘lass’! I’ve always wondered if Scottish people really say that.”

  “Aye, I do say it.” Fergus unfastens his seatbelt and twists to look at Jordy. I was so lost in thought, I hadn’t even realized we’d arrived at the pub. “And ‘aye’. And ‘wee’. Any others you’d like to hear?”

  I laugh to myself as I unbuckle my seatbelt and get out of the car. Jordy and Fergus continue their rapid-fire banter on our way inside. I tune in and out as nervous excitement fires up in my belly, and my legs climb the stairs on autopilot. I’m not sure why I’m nervous; crowds don’t usually bother me, but then I’m rarely the center of attention, and I will be tonight. And if I’m being honest, I’m anxious about seeing Spencer again after our kisses the other night, followed by his instant regret.

  Jordy grabs my hand as we approach the open door to the pub’s back room, where the party is being held. For a second, I’m worried she’s going to back out and ask if she can go home, but her face is lit with excitement. I yank on her hand until her body bumps into mine and then I release my grip and wrap my arms around her. She laughs, throwing her arms around me and holding on tight. I meet Fergus’s eyes over Jordy’s head; his smile is tinged with a hint of sadness. I close my eyes and grip Jordy tighter, knowing that the same sadness is likely reflected in my own eyes. With all my mental might, I push away the question that fights for my attention: how am I ever going to say goodbye to her next week?

  Jordy makes a squeaking sound in my ear. “Too tight, Hols. Too tight.” She laughs as I loosen my hold and step back. Her eyes scan my face and, as if reading my thoughts, she says, “We still have a week together. We’ll make it the best week ever, but tonight is about you. Forget about everything else and just have fun.”

  I nod, blowing out a long, slow breath and turning back toward the door. The mixed sounds of voices and music float out, making me smile. The smile grows when Louisa appears in the doorway.

  “There you are!” She pauses to call over her shoulder that I’m here, and within seconds, Evie and Stella join her in the doorway, and I’m enveloped in a massive group hug from my best friends. The next few minutes are a whirlwind as I introduce Jordy to the girls and they fuss over her, telling her how happy they are to finally meet her and how pretty she looks in the sparkly midnight blue dress she bought today. They usher us inside the back room, telling me to go say hi to people while they introduce Jordy to some other guests and get her a non-alcoholic drink from the bar.

  I’m passed from person to person and group to group, accepting hugs, kisses, and well wishes. My eyes repeatedly sting with tears and my face aches from smiling and laughing so much. I notice nearly everyone around me has a cocktail of some sort a second before Stella swings by and places a Manhattan in my hand.

  The first time I have a second alone, I take a huge gulp of my drink. I’ve been keeping an eye on Jordy since we arrived; she’s currently standing with Fergus and Louisa, listening intently to something Fergus is saying. Across the room, Evie announces that servers are about to circulate with trays of finger food. I swivel to face the back where I assume the food will be coming from, putting me face to face with Spencer.

  “Oh! Hi!” Surprise and excitement have my voice coming out in a strangely high pitch.

  “Hello, Hollie.” He leans forward, and I expect him to hug me or maybe even kiss my cheek, but he immediately straightens. If the contrite look that follows is any indication, I have a feeling he senses my confusion and disappointment. “Happy birthday.” This time when he leans in, he follows through by kissing my cheek and giving me a too-quick hug. “You look lovely.”

  I thank him and scan his outfit: dark trousers and a turquoise dress shirt. I have to think the color choice was in my honor since he knows turquoise is my favorite. I’m about to comment on it when he breaks eye contact and glances around the room, shifting from foot to foot. “Good turn out. Not that I’m surprised, of course. I expected people to jump at the chance to celebrate with you. Oh, there’s Jordy, I ought to go say hello. Will you excuse me?”

  And then he’s gone as quickly as he appeared.

  “Okay then,” I murmur to myself. Guess that answers my question about whether things between us would be weird after our kiss.

  Refusing to let it spoil my good mood, I return to circulating. Wesley is in charge of the music and is playing a mix of songs that were clearly created with me in mind. I stuff my face with everything that’s offered to me by passing servers. My friends decided to carry over the British theme from my tea party last month by curating a menu based on some of my favorite British foods—tiny newspaper-wrapped bundles with fish and chips, cheese and onion pasties, bacon sarnies, sausage rolls, and more. Even though people keep offering to get me something from the bar, I pace myself, not wanting to get too tipsy too soon.

  This night is absolutely perfect except for one thing: the fact Spencer is avoiding me. Any time I catch his eye, he looks away quickly. If we’re anywhere near each other, he suddenly finds a reason to duck away or someone else to talk to. After an hour of this, I let my friends pull me onto the dance floor, pleased when Jordy agrees to join us.

  As soon as I start dancing, all my thoughts fade away. It’s just me, my friends, and the music. It feels so good to let loose. Dancing has always been an outlet and a refuge for me; I have countless wonderful memories of my friends and me making up dance routines to all our favorite songs. Mixed in with those recollections are faded memories of my mom and me dancing around the house when I was younger. After she left, I’d lock myself in my bedroom and blast my music, letting it fill the empty spaces in the house and inside me as I thrashed around the room to the point of exhaustion.