CHAPTER ONE
April
I unlocked the door to the cabin and wrinkled my nose at the wave of cold and musty air that hit me. No one had been inside for months, and as the first to arrive, I was the lucky one who got to make it habitable for everyone else.
Still huddled in my coat and hat, I ran around hitting breakers and cranking the ancient furnace all the way up. It clanged angrily, but thankfully turned on. I was never quite sure whether it would work or not. Or any of the other modern conveniences, for that matter. We were way out in the boonies, far from civilization. And since we only visited a few times a year, it was entirely possible that I’d find a family of raccoons nesting in the wiring. Or bears in the cabin, even. A quick sweep showed no major problems.
Unfortunately.
Had the power been out, or the furnace not working, I could have used it as an excuse to turn right around and go home.
Instead, I unloaded my car while waiting for the place to warm up. Aside from my clothes and toiletries, I had a few bags of groceries and a box full of Christmas presents that I still needed to wrap. I’d been hoping to get out of coming, right up until the very last minute, so I’d put off any and all preparations. But as always, my parents had guilted me into being here. I’d had to leave work early in order to finish packing and get to the store so we had everything we would need for the week. It took three trips, but I got it all inside. All the while slipping and sliding across the icy walkway and cursing the stupid place with every single step.
Christmas was the best time of year for most people. It was full of joy and cheer and warm, fuzzy memories. Not so much for me. Not that I had anything against the holiday itself. Elves and cookies and carols were all great. The twinkle lights were pretty, and I enjoyed exchanging gifts as much as the next person. My problem was related to the fact that our one sacred family tradition involved holing up in this tiny mountain cabin for five days straight each year. And although spending time with my family wasn’t awful enough to qualify as torture, being around Ryan Gardner for that long really was excruciating.
Our animosity had started way back when I was in third grade. One afternoon my older brother Jeremy came home from school with his brand-new best buddy Ryan, and he’d basically never left. I’d been so innocent and naïve at first, assuming that we’d all get to play together, and it would be great to have another member of our little clan.
I had been sorely mistaken. Instead of the three of us, it was them, and me. I was the annoying little sister that they didn’t want around. I was excluded from Mario Kart and kickball, and I was left behind when they went to the playground or the convenience store to get ice cream or candy. I wasn’t allowed to camp with them in the backyard, or hang out in Jeremy’s room anymore.
I’d essentially been voted off the island, and left out of all the fun.
That had all been irritating, but eventually I found my own friends, and stopped trying to follow the two of them around like a lost puppy. Eventually, I got it. All through middle school I treated Ryan like a second brother. He was gross and stupid, immature, and obnoxious. Just another repulsive boy.
If only it had stayed that way.
Not long after I turned thirteen, I woke up and suddenly realized that Ryan Gardner, while still a pain in the ass, was also exceptionally cute. By fifteen, I had a massive all-consuming crush. After years of successfully ignoring him, he had become all that I could think about. I was too shy to admit it, but I started trying to insert myself back into his life, and it became clear that I was always, and would forever be,the pesky little sister.
He could not have been less interested and his rejection stung.
And because he and my brother were still inseparable, I got a front row seat to the endless parade of girls Ryan did bring around. And there a lot of them. For both Ryan and Jeremy really, but I didn’t care about my brothers exploits, just Ryan’s. He went after them all—the popular girls, star athletes, class presidents, and drama geeks.Everygirl was his type.
Every girl except me, of course.
He even dated other sophomores, including a few of my friends, just to dig the knife in a litter bit deeper.
I did my best to get over him, I really did. I went to dances with guys in my class, and even had my first boyfriend. And as we got older and developed actual social lives, we spent less time near each other, and I started to slowly move on from my infatuation. And knowing that Ryan would be leaving for college soon, and would be out of sight, I was ecstatic.
Then tragedy had struck, catapulting him firmly back into my life, forever.
One fateful night, right after he’d gone off to college, some bad wiring started a horrific house fire that claimed his parent’s lives, leaving Ryan completely on his own. He’d been an only child, and he’d taken the loss hard of course, and had a really tough time in the aftermath. My parents saw his struggle, and even though he was legally an adult, they essentially adopted him. He’d already been a surrogate part of the family for almost a decade, so it wasn’t like it was much of a difference.
Except, instead of being long gone from my life, he was suddenly part of every important milestone, anniversary dinner, birthday celebration, and of course, holiday. I couldn’t escape him, and with him around I couldn’t stop wanting him, so I decided to tackle the problem head on.
When he returned the following summer—taller, fitter, and hotter than ever—I decided to make my move. I was seventeen, out of the worst of my awkward stage, with curves and breasts. I was certain that he would finally see me as the mature young woman that I was, rather than as a gawky little sister. I thought that maybe, just maybe, I would get my chance with him.
The timing was right, and I could help heal his wounded heart, and we’d ride off into the sunset.
That was year that Ryan Gardner broke my heart. Shattered it to pieces. He had made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that he would never,ever, like me like that. Embarrassed and dejected, I’d told him off. I called him a shallow, arrogant, asshole, and then I spent the rest of the summer wishing that my brother had never met him. In return, he called me a spoiled, immature brat, and spent those months pretending that I didn’t exist. Ever since, we’d treated each other with barely disguised hostility.
Luckily, time went on and we’d both grown up, moved away from home, and lived our own lives. For a blissful eleven and a half months of the year, I didn’t have to deal with him. Occasionally, we’d both be at some random event, like a reunion, my brother’s birthday, or fourth of July picnic. Places where we could easily avoid each other. As long as we didn’t have to interact in any way, we peacefully coexisted.
Christmas in the cabin, our yearly family tradition, was an entirely different matter. It had become my least favorite week of the year. The five of us were stuck under one miniscule roof for days on end, running into each other constantly, with nowhere to hide. Nowhere to go. I was always miserable.
Ryan alternated between irritating me and ignoring me, and yet no matter how much of jerk he was to me, and how much I wanted to punch him, I still craved him. It just never went away. Nothing I did, or he did, could kill those feelings. It didn’t help that every time I saw Ryan, he was somehow hotter and more gorgeous than the last time I’d laid eyes on him.
He was one of those guys that aged like fine wine, and he drove me insane.
I understood why Jeremy didn’t want him to be alone on Christmas, I really did. No one, not even that jerk, deserved to spend the holiday by himself. I just wished that he’d find someone else to spend it with, so I could enjoy it again.