Snow Angel (6 page)

Melinda shrugged, already regretting her choice of topic. Her Christmas could have been better.

“I heard the prince turned out to be a prick,” Jacob said, watching her keenly now and zeroing in on the source of her misery. “Rick told me. Sorry.”

“Oh.” The knife in her chest gave another twist. For a little while, she’d been able to put Mitch out of her mind. “Yeah.”

“His loss,” Jacob added.

She huffed out a laugh and smiled because she knew he wanted her to. “Damn right.”

“Mine did, too.”

Not really following him, Melinda raised an eyebrow. “You had a prince?”

“—
cess
,” he corrected, pointing a stern finger at her. “Princess. Nicole. Whatever. More of a toad-ess, as it turns out.”

“Oh. Really?” Sitting on the edge of the bed, Melinda ran her fingers through the dark, burnished brown hair falling over his forehead, then took his free hand in both of hers. “I’m sorry.”

“Sucks much, right? Christmas and everything. She was kind enough to wait until after I gave her her present. That’s fifty bucks I’ll never get back.”

Presents.

Jacob didn’t seem all that upset about splitting with Nicole, really. In fact, he seemed oddly cheerful. But the mention of presents sent another pang winging through Melinda’s heart.

She’d spent so much time and effort planning out the perfect presents for Mitch. Gifts that had sat, prettily wrapped and alone, underneath the tree all Christmas Day. Her mother had finally packed them away somewhere. She supposed she’d return them when they got back from Utah.

If she could stand the humiliation.

“You gave her a present?” she asked now, shutting Mitch away again. “I didn’t think you guys were that serious.”

She played idly with Jacob’s fingers. He had such big hands.

Jacob shrugged. “We weren’t. We had some laughs, you know, and she told me she was giving me something, so... Turns out a Starbuck’s gift card and one of those stupid troll things she collects wasn’t enough.”

Melinda grimaced and squeezed his fingers.

Though she never tired of teasing him over the way girls fell at his feet these days—much to his still-astonished delight—sometimes she spied the sad, lonely teenager lurking behind his confident grin, the boy he’d successfully hidden from most people during their high-school days.

It hurt her heart.

After going through high school mostly dateless, then a couple months of pure wildness their first semester of college, Jacob was, in some ways, still learning to navigate the whole relationship thing. He wasn’t always great at picking girls who wouldn’t use him, ones he could trust and be himself with. He’d been screwed over more than once.

She’d never liked Nicole, or her predatory nature.

But then, what did she know? She’d had plenty of dates in high school once she came out of her shell, and look who she’d picked. Mitch. She and Jacob really were two peas in a pod.

Jacob mostly blew those experiences off, but once in a while he’d get that look in his eyes, and her heart would squeeze.

Out loud, she only said, “Her loss.”

“You’re damn right,” he answered, and they both smiled.

“Still. Sorry, Jake.”

Not for the first time, she wished she and Jacob had been meant to be together. That they didn’t have such different goals. That he might see her as more than a friend. In so many ways, they were perfect for each other.

Except for the little problem of wanting totally different lives.

Jacob shrugged again. “More fish in the sea. We’ll add ‘freedom’ to the good-mood-inducing list. When I’m a famous team doctor, traveling the country with all the hotshot athletes, giving interviews on all the sports channels, I’ll have my pick.”

And there it was.

He wanted the high life. The Hollywood lifestyle of pro sports, TV personalities, constant traveling, and mingling with the professional athlete’s version of the glitterati. She wanted hearth and home in Pasodoro, a bunch of kids, her family and friends close by. She could never be happy with someone who was gone more than he was home or who expected her to join him on the loony, high-profile merry-go-round.

Get a grip, Mel.

Mitch had promised her the life she wanted and had claimed to want the same things. Only he was a liar and a fraud. At least with Jacob, she knew exactly how things stood, even if this rebounding thing was making her temporarily crazy, sending her heart and libido hungering after her best friend. She knew full well they wouldn’t be able to make each other happy.

Friends forever, nothing more. That was their role. As it should be.

Except Jacob had looked at her when he said
my pick
, and that flash had gone off again. Something new in his eyes that had made an answering something twist deep inside her belly.

It’s rebounding
, she reminded herself.
It’s just physical. Put it out of your mind.

Jacob appeared deeply focused on their hands, idly fiddling with her fingers. His hands were so warm and comfortable. So big. Hers seemed pale and tiny by comparison.

“Thanks for the Lakers tickets, by the way,” he said, looking up at her again. “Playing the Bulls. That’ll be a great game. You always score a perfect ten on the gift-giving scale.”

Melinda smiled. “Glad to hear it. Thanks for the watch.” She rolled the left sleeve back on her sweatshirt to show the bright primary colors of the band and the watch face in the shape of Goofy, her favorite Disney character. “I love it.”

“Of course you do. He looks just like you.”

“Har har, funny man.”

Jacob grinned cheekily. He lifted a finger to tweak her nose, but she batted it away.

“So,” he said, “ do you wanna go with me?”

Melinda raised her eyebrows, confused.

“To the game, woman. Lakers tickets? Ring a bell?”

“Oh. Um, sure. You don’t want to take Rick or someone?”

Giving her an incredulous look, Jacob said, “Would you take Rick anywhere?”

“Good point,” she said, then gave an elaborate shudder. “Not unless Aunt Pat pays me.”

“Which I’ve told her repeatedly, no matter how many times she tries to make me take him out of the asylum for free. She’s a cheapskate, your aunt.”

They grinned at each other in complete agreement. Pretending to pick on Rick was a favorite pastime, whether her cousin was around to appreciate their humor or not.

Jacob gave a waggle of his fingers, bringing her back to his question. “So?”

“Yeah, that’ll be fun.”

“Cool.” He took an audible breath. Then, “So about Mitch. Do you—no, never mind.”

Her heart gave a little hitch. She’d hoped they were done with that topic. “Do I what?”

Jacob paused as if he wouldn’t speak, but she squeezed his fingers again, and he met her eyes, a cautious look in his own.

“Do you think Mitch was seeing his ex—that he was with her while he was with you?”

“No,” Melinda said, surprised.

A tiny, terrible pull on her heartstrings warbled suspiciously in her ears. What if...

“No, he wouldn’t—” The denial was instinctive, but she broke off as the seed sprouted.

“I’m sorry,” Jacob said, squeezing her hand in return. “Forget it.”

“It’s okay.”

Yet the seed’s seeking tendrils were on the move now, winding their way into her heart.

Hadn’t there been times when Mitch had seemed distant or evasive and she’d put it down to work stress or family issues? Times when he’d been mysteriously unavailable?

Yes, he’d always been careful to do the things he’d said he was going to do, to call when he said he would, but there had also been plenty of times when he’d told her upfront that he was busy. She’d appreciated his honesty, even through her disappointment over not getting to see him on those days.

What if he’d been playing her all along?

“Mel,” Jacob said, a regretful note in his voice.

Pulling her unfocused gaze back to her friend, Melinda dredged up a smile. In the end, did it really matter? The result was the same.

“Really, it’s okay,” she said. “What’s done is done, right? He’s already proved he’s a bastard.”

“There are degrees, though.”

This time it was Melinda who shrugged. “Not really. You either are or you’re not. He is. It’s only worse if I let it be worse. I won’t.”

Jacob’s thumb rubbed across the back of her hand in soothing strokes. His tawny eyes stared deeply into hers. “It really is his loss, you know.”

For a moment, a heartbeat of time as their eyes held. That something new flashed between them again. Something thrilling and unsettling. A tiny lightning bolt. Before she could grab hold of it, it was gone.

Just as well.

Her emotions were obviously still all over the place, tied up in knots by Mitch. Hopefully Jacob wouldn’t notice anything off in her behavior. She’d die of embarrassment if he had any inkling of the direction of her thoughts tonight.

Deciding it was a good idea to get up and get busy, Melinda patted him on the head and went back to her closet, flipping determinedly through her clothes. It took another moment for the little spike in her pulse to level out.

That was weird. As weird as when she’d thought—hoped, let’s be honest—for a moment, that he was about to kiss her. He had the sexiest mouth…

It was
not
that she suddenly wanted something to happen between them.

Of course not.

That would be a mistake of gargantuan proportions.

So she was attracted. So what. It was just hormones. She was attracted to Zac Efron, too, but it wasn’t like she was going to act on it or anything.

Not that she had access to the movie star, but that was beside the point.

Her fingers landed on the hanger containing the slinky, siren-red dress she’d bought for the New Year’s Eve party at the ski lodge, bringing her ex-jerkwad abruptly front and center again in her mind.

How many times had she imagined Mitch’s hands caressing the bare parts of her back through the hot little dress’s cutouts on either side of her spine? Or the way they’d fit together while they danced. And the kiss they’d share at midnight while looking forward to the start of a whole new year together, full of adventure and romance.

Her initial impulse screamed to leave the dress hanging in her closet and choose something else for New Year’s—like her sweatpants and Cal State t-shirt. She squashed that notion almost instantly.

Nope.

She wasn’t going to hide away in the condo while everyone else partied on New Year’s Eve. She’d wear the damn dress, dance her ass off, and knock a few eyes out while she was at it.

Satisfied, Melinda grabbed her mile-high strappy heels in matching red, and her tiny, sparkly clutch, and tossed them next to her suitcase.

She and Jacob fell into casual chatter while she finished packing—the grades they were hoping for from the fall term at school, high school friends they’d seen over break—picking up the easy rhythm of their friendship as though those few electric moments had never happened.

Finally finished, Melinda sat on the suitcase to zip the bulging seams closed. Jacob rolled his eyes in amusement when she motioned him over to help. His heavier weight did the trick, and she was able to get it closed.

Jacob bounced up to grab her bag, but he pulled her in for a hard hug first, and a kiss on top of her head, which barely reached his shoulder. Warm fuzzies sprouted all over her body. Then he dug his fingers into her ribs and made her squeal.

“’Night, garlic breath,” he said, flashing her a smirky grin when she looked indignant.

Tossing the garment bag with her New Year’s dress in it over his shoulder, Jacob dragged her overflowing suitcase out of her room, listing dramatically to one side and hauling on it as though it weighed a thousand pounds.

Alone, Melinda showered and got ready for bed, then packed up as much as she could of her overnight kit, only leaving her toothbrush out for the next day. The less she had to do in the morning, the better.

Christian swung in with a half-rap of his knuckles on her doorframe to announce his presence.

“Hey, we’re watching a movie if you want to come down,” he said. “
Die Hard
.”

At eighteen, baby-faced Christian was by far her sweetest cousin. He always made sure to include her in whatever was going on.

“Thanks,” she said, “but I think I’ll read for a bit and go to bed. I’m pretty tired.”

“You sure?” he asked. “You’re gonna miss the Bruce?”

When she nodded, he
tsk’d
reproachfully but gave her a hug and wished her goodnight.

After her cousin left—hollering
“Kowabunga!”
as he dashed down the hallway, to which he received an answering shout from the guys downstairs—Melinda stood indecisively, chewing the tip of her finger. She almost followed him after all.
Die Hard
was one of her favorite movies, and she’d be able to snuggle up with Jacob.