Snowed In (Fitzpatrick Christmas, #2)

by Catherine Walsh

Something changes in that moment, and all of a sudden I wish I’d never thought of this plan. I wish I could go back to her apartment that first night and sit on her couch and kiss her like she should always be kissed. Like how she should be right now. And there’d be no pretending about it.

He watches me finish with a slightly glazed look in his eye, which is how I know he’s sick because a non-sick Christian would have made a joke and batted me away before doing the job perfectly, but instead, he just stands with his shoulders slumped like some kind of normal person.

“Just go for it. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. Whatever. You move on. You cut your hair short and buy a bunch of books you’re never going to read. C’est la vie.”

“I wasn’t that smart at school,” I say. “People think I was, but all I did was remember stuff, and that’s all they cared about it. I memorized what they told me, and I fed it back to them.