Stop it, I told myself. Stop being paranoid. This probably has nothing to do with you at all. You just have to talk to him, but NOT on Christmas Eve.

Mariah and I exchanged gifts—she went crazy over her blanket, nail polish, and lip gloss from me, and I squealed with delight at the giant black hoodie she’d gotten me that said RYDELL HIGH on the front above a big varsity letter R and Miss Dempsey on the back. “Mariah, it’s perfect! Thank you so much.”

My mother and I stayed late, helping to gather and distribute coats, wish departing guests Merry Christmas, and clean up. Mariah, exhausted but positive she’d be unable to sleep because she was so excited for Santa to come, eventually went up to bed, and Cole and I said goodnight to her together.

“It’s okay if I wake up early, right?” she asked him.

“Sure.” He yawned. “I have to be at work at seven, so I’ll be up early too. That way I can see you open some gifts if Santa comes tonight.”

“He will,” she said confidently. “The Santa tracker app said he’s over North America now.”

“Oh, good,” Cole said. “Then you better get to sleep.”

When we went downstairs, Mrs. Mitchell said goodnight as well.

“Night, Mom,” said Cole, dropping onto the couch.

“Let me know if you need help bringing up all the Santa gifts from the basement,” she whispered.

“I’m good,” he said, fighting off another yawn.

“I can help you,” I said, sitting next to him.

Mrs. Mitchell disappeared up the stairs, and it was just Cole and me.

“Want to open your present from me?” I asked.

“Sure.”

I grabbed the package I’d placed beneath their tree and set it in his lap. “Here. It’s not very exciting.”

He gave me a look, tore off the paper, and opened the box. “I love it,” he said, holding up the sweater. “Thank you.”

“You know how I love you in blue,” I said.

“You know I love it when you pick my clothing. Okay, now your turn,” he said, reaching under the tree and handing me an envelope the size of a greeting card that said Cheyenne on it in his handwriting.

Smiling, I opened the envelope and pulled out a post-card sized gift certificate from Cloverleigh Farms for a Romantic Weekend for Two. Gasping, I held it to my chest. “Oh my gosh, did you really?”

“Did I really what? Buy you a Christmas present that was also a gift for myself? Yes.”

I laughed. “I meant, did you do this when we were there?”

“Yes. Right before we left.” He shrugged. “I knew it would always be a special place for us. I thought maybe we could go back every year.”

“Oh, Cole, I love that idea.” I leaned toward him, still clutching the gift certificate, melting into his chest. His arms enveloped me, and he kissed my head. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. Everything was going to be okay. “Maybe we can use this weekend away over my winter break. I don’t have to go back until the fourth.”

“Maybe.” He hesitated. “But I’ll be pretty busy with the house.”

“Oh, that’s true.” I took a breath. “So we haven’t really talked about this yet, but when do you want me to move in?”

“I was thinking of waiting a little bit on that.”

Something about the way he said it made me stiffen up. “Waiting a little bit?”

“Yes. Just maybe a couple months or so. You know.”

I sat up and looked at him. “A couple months?”

“Well, yeah.” He shrugged and met my eyes only briefly. “I thought it might be best to give Mariah some time to adjust to the new place. On our own.”

“Oh.” Hurt had taken root in my chest. “And that will take months?”

“Hard to say.”

A tear slipped down my cheek. I couldn’t help it.

“Hey, I don’t want you to worry, okay?” He took my hand. “I love you. You know I do. I want to be with you.”

“So why don’t you want us to live together?”

“I do want that. I’m just making sure we’re not rushing it.” His eyes dropped to our hands. “I’m—I’m worried about Mariah. See, she’s been having nightmares.”

A chill moved up my spine. Something was way, way off. “Mariah has been having nightmares?”

“Yes.” Letting go of my hand, he crossed his arms over his chest.

“What kind of nightmares?”

“She says . . . she says they’re about a monster in the dark. She’s terrified of it, even though it’s just there in the dark with her. Because she knows at any minute, it might attack.”

“Something she can’t see coming,” I said.

“Right,” he said, oblivious that I’d just used his own words. “She’s obviously frightened by something that feels unsafe or—or unpredictable to her. She senses danger and doesn’t know how to protect herself. So I think we’d better just give her some more time to feel, you know, safe.”

“More time . . . so Mariah feels safe.” It was all making sense to me now. Blair had been right—Cole did have some things to work through. But he wasn’t working through them, he was burying them even deeper.

And he was lying to me about it.

“Yes. I love you, Cheyenne. And I want to be with you all the time. But my first priority has to be my daughter. You understand, right?”

I closed my eyes as more tears fell, and swallowed hard. “Yes. I understand.”

“Good.” He reached for me but I stood up. “This isn’t going to work for me, Cole.”

“Huh?”

“You’re not being honest.”

He looked indignant. “Yes, I am.”

I shook my head. “You’re not. You’re scared of what’s happening between us. You’re afraid that what we have can’t last.”

“That’s not it at all!” Cole jumped up from the couch and glanced toward the stairs. We had to keep our voices down, but it was hard, because we were both worked up. “I’m only concerned about—”

I held up one hand. “Don’t say Mariah, Cole, because I know the truth.”

“What truth?”

“Mariah isn’t the one having the nightmares, you are. Mariah isn’t the one frightened about something she can’t see coming, you are. Mariah isn’t the one lying to me about how she feels, you are.” I started to cry for real. “She told me, Cole. Tonight, we were talking earlier, and she told me about your bad dreams and how she gave you a stuffed animal to scare the monster away. And even if she hadn’t, your mother mentioned them to my mother.”

“Jesus Christ,” he snapped, his chest inflating with anger. “This is why I need my own house.”

“And that’s fine.” I put up my hands. “That’s fine, Cole. Move into your own house. I’ll be staying in mine.”

“Cheyenne, please.” His expression was furious, his tone heated. “I told you from the beginning that this wasn’t going to be easy for me.”

“I never expected it to be easy. But I did expect you to let me in.”