Page 46 of Meet Me on Mistletoe Lane

“I appreciate the worry, Sam. Really I do.” I took another sip of my cocoa. “But I’m a big girl. Do you really think I’m so naive that I can’t tell the difference between someone who is sincere and who isn’t?”

“That’s not—”

“And okay, so maybe he is attracted to me. Is that really so hard to believe?” My heart pounded in my chest.

Sam held up his hands. “I didn’t mean it like that—”

“Do you have a better idea for how to get closer to that family? Does James give you some kind of awful vibe?” I asked him, lowering my mug but keeping my hands around it to help ground me and give me the courage to say what I needed to next. “Or can you give me any other reason not to date him?”

Jo’s eyes darted back and forth between the two of us as I waited for Sam to give me an answer. An honest answer.

Admit that he didn’t want me dating James because he had feelings for me.

Explain why he almost kissed me in the den before running away.

Tell me I wasn’t imagining the way the energy had changed between us.

But the only thing that had changed in those long, silent minutes was the song playing in the café.

Fine.

“I have to go.” I tucked my Chromebook and binder back in my book bag. “I told James I’d meet him at my house in a bit. I need to be there before he arrives, or Marco and Nico will harass him from next door.”

“Gianna, wait,” Sam said, standing. He opened his mouth and closed it twice before grabbing the index cards on the table. “You forgot your flash cards.”

Jo groaned and let her head fall in her hands.

“You can keep them,” I said, zipping up my coat and tugging on my earmuffs. “I’m ready.”

Over the next couple of hours, I did recon from my bedroom window, watching as Marco left for his shift at Hal’s Hardware, and Nico drove away with the decked-out-for-Christmas delivery van for the florist. Nona had stayed at her home this morning, Mom was already at her studio, and Leo was at school, since fifth graders didn’t have state testing for another week. With the house blissfully to myself, I blasted the soundtrack from A Very Jonas Christmas Movie as I got ready for my not-date date with James.

We had exchanged numbers yesterday before leaving the diner, and the plan for today was just a simple hangout in public—something casual to start people talking about the new guy hanging out with the local girl. Even someone as busy as James’s dad would surely catch wind of that kind of gossip within the day.

I knew for a fact that Mullings Creek had multiple group chats dedicated to that kind of tea.

And that Nona was on most of them.

My phone buzzed with an alert, but I had to sift through the piles of sweaters and tops I had tried on after coming home from the café to find it.

James: Be there in a few!

James: Can’t wait for our not-date date.

I dropped my phone and hurried over to my mirror to quickly apply mascara before I remembered I already had. After a quick re-braid of my hair, I rubbed my palms over my black leggings and spun around in front of my mirror for a quick fit check. Beige hoodie under a long flannel. Black combat boots. Crossbody bag with Christmas pin.

The doorbell rang, and I jumped, butterflies now swirling in my stomach.

Why are you nervous?

“It’s not like it’s a real date,” I whispered to myself as I half stumbled out of my room, catching myself on the wall. “It’s not a real date. You can do this.” I gripped the railing as I walked down the stairs, my heartbeat accelerating as James’s shadow on the other side of our front door came into view.

You can do this.

I opened the door, and my breath caught in my throat.

James stood before me in aviators, beaming, with a dark green quarter-zip and dark jeans, with a fur-lined light wash jean jacket and a beanie. “Hi!” he said with a half wave before tucking his hand into his jacket pocket.

I can’t do this.