

Feels Like Home

Feels Like Romance Novella 1

### Book One in the Feels Like Romance Series

by Roberta Ann Roque
Limits of Liability/Disclaimer of Warranty

All characters appearing or referred to in this work are fictional. Any resemblance or similarity to real persons, living or dead, is unintentional and purely coincidental.

Roberta Ann Roque (the "Copyright Holder") owns all of the original literary and artistic elements in this book including any and all copyright therein. All rights are reserved and no part of this book or the information contained thereon may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning or otherwise, except as expressly permitted in writing by the Copyright Holder.

Copyright Roberta Ann Roque, 2014

Cover image by Ruslan1117 | Dreamstime.com

Consultant for cover design and graphics: Valerie Jagiello.

You can find her work at:

http://valerie-jagiello.artistwebsites.com/.

Please contact her at:

http://valerie-jagiello.artistwebsites.com/contact.html

For my husband
Table of Contents

Author's Note

Chapter One: Cecilia's

Chapter Two: The Text

Chapter Three: The Breakup

Chapter Four: The Rescue

Chapter Five: The Christmas List

Chapter Six: The Kiss

Chapter Seven: The Dance

Chapter Eight: The Night

Chapter Nine: The Return

Chapter Ten: The Dinner

Epilogue: Skating

Bonus

About the Author

Other Books in the Feels Like Romance series
Author's Note

With each of the books in the Feels Like Romance series, I deliberately chose songs to inspire the story. I picked songs that went with the theme, with what the characters were going through, or that evoked a certain feeling. When writing certain parts I would sometimes put the song on repeat and listen to it over and over.

This is an inherent part of these books and is integral to the stories. You will find as you continue through the series that there are many references to songs and music. It's supposed to be like that. That's how the series was designed.

If you are a musician or enjoy music - the way I am and do - you'll know that songs evoke emotions in a way that words never can. So, I've listed them here, if you'd like to surround yourself with these songs as you read or when you come to the part where they are mentioned in the story.

I've linked to the Youtube videos of the songs so that you can listen to them for free.

Enjoy!

Feels Like Home by Randy Newman

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HXP4UqgNg70

Just a Dream by Nelly

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N6O2ncUKvlg

When Your Say Nothing at All by Allison Krauss

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1SCOimBo5tg

Cecilia by Simon and Garfunkel

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a5_QV97eYqM

Happily ever after is alive and well!

Sincerely,

Bobbi (writing as Roberta Ann Roque)
 FREE DOWNLOAD

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When your heart's been broken, no strings attached sounds like a pretty good deal.

The romance continues...

Feels Like Forever: Feels Like Romance Novella #2 (Miranda and Jake's story)

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CHAPTER ONE

Cecilia's

Cecilia

I stood at the door of the restaurant for a moment and looked up at the clear sky full of stars. I sighed. So beautiful. Then I stepped back in and turned the deadbolt. I turned away from the entrance and weaved my way through the wooden tables, now devoid of their red-and-white checked tablecloths. Every once in a while I trailed my fingers lovingly along one of them. This place was my baby. I'd bought the empty shell of the restaurant from owners who'd gone out of business. Within six months, I'd had it renovated and redecorated, and had opened the doors.

It was called Cecilia's, after me. I know, I know. I named my restaurant after myself? Well, it's a time-honored tradition. And anyway, it was my one vanity. Okay, probably not my only vanity, but I just wanted this thing to be mine. Look, it seemed like a good idea at the time, all right?

Anyway.

We served Italian food - recipes that my mother had passed on to me that had been in our family for generations. And pizza. Really great pizza. We'd got some amazing reviews and I'd built the business by working incredibly long hours, using innovative marketing, and setting up some cool online stuff. We would do things like sending emails with coupons in them to our subscribers every week and text messages to people in the area telling them that there was a special on for a limited time. I was proud of what I'd done.

It was everything I wanted.

Wasn't it?

I kicked off my shoes and pulled my long brown hair out of its ponytail as I walked into the office. Shutting the door, I tossed my sensible flats into the corner. I flopped into the swivel chair at the desk and felt my eyelids starting to close. I was tired. I was so tired. Not just from tonight, though it had been crazy busy until we'd kicked the last customer out at eleven o'clock. But tired in a way that didn't feel better after a full night's sleep. I was starting to feel burned out. These last years had been a wild ride and I had enjoyed pretty much every minute of it, but now I felt sort of empty and bone tired and like somehow it wasn't enough.

I popped my phone onto the dock and tapped on my "End of the Night" playlist. Nelly's "Just a Dream" began to play, and I sighed because it always reminded me of Will and how it felt, as though knowing him had only been a dream. Cheesy, right? I know. I rolled my chair up to the desk and began cashing out. It took me over an hour tonight because I made an error and I had to go back painstakingly through all of the receipts until I found it and finally balanced the register around twelve thirty in the morning.

As I put on my coat, wrapped my scarf around my neck, and pulled on my hat, I wondered why, if he was only a dream, I still couldn't get him out of my head. Why hadn't the memory of him vanished with the morning light? I let myself out the front door and turned the key in the lock. I smiled up at the sign, feeling a sense of accomplishment about what I'd created. People loved coming to my restaurant. It made them feel like they were coming to a familiar place. That's what I'd been going for. A restaurant that made you feel like you were eating in your mom's or your grandma's kitchen.

Like home. I wanted it to feel like home.

Maybe that was because ever since I left my parent's house at eighteen to go into a chef's program and get my red seal, I'd never really felt at home. My dorm room hadn't felt at all homey. Gross, yes. Homey, no. And my apartment... I climbed the stairs to my second-floor walk-up. It was where I'd lived for the past few years. I wasn't sure it was home.

When I entered the apartment I felt... nothing. It was just a place to sleep. I owned almost no furniture. There was a couch in the living room and a desk and chair. I slept on a futon on the floor of my bedroom. Conversely, there was a bookshelf in every room, and each one was stuffed full of books. I made a mental note to buy another bookshelf - these three were overflowing.

Once I was ready for bed, I lay on my futon with the small lamp on the floor turned on. It gave the room a cheery glow. I turned on my back and with my hands under my head I stared up at the ceiling.

And gave in to it...

In my imagination, I travelled back in time to when Will and I had first met - in physics class. I had offered to help him with his homework and studying. I relived every scene, every minute we'd spent together. We'd been friends. And I had hoped that maybe it might someday be something more. But then he'd met Miranda, my older sister. She was a more interesting, feistier, sexier, more fun version of me. She asked me if we were just friends, and like a fool I'd said yes. And when she'd asked him out, he'd never looked back. Soon, I was only "Miranda's sister."

If Miranda had looked in my eyes when I'd answered, she'd have seen that the answer was not really yes but actually, "Yes, but please don't touch him." She hadn't looked. She never did. I love my sister and she would never do anything deliberately to hurt me, but she was oblivious to subtle cues and was always more concerned with her own interests than anyone else's.

She and Will had started sleeping together two weeks after they began going out. My sister always said he had been crap the first time but she'd trained him right. I felt my heart squeeze at the old painful memories. She had told me way more details than I had wanted to hear. But it was like that thing where you can't look away from a car wreck - I couldn't help but listen.

Eventually, she said he made a passable lover, but it never seemed like she was quite pleased with him — about anything, not just sex. Though he clearly tried, it seemed like nothing he did was ever good enough. Thankfully Will and I soon graduated. I left home to go to school, and I haven't since either of them since then. Oh, we keep in touch, but I've been so busy that I haven't been home since I left, what with one thing or another.

My phone rang just then. I stared at it like it had grown wings. Nobody called me. Really. If my phone rings, I assume it's a telemarketer and don't answer because anyone who actually knows me will text first. Who was calling me at one o'clock in the morning? Didn't they say that a phone call in the middle of the night meant bad news?

Gingerly, I picked up the phone and swiped to answer.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Ceci. It's Miranda." I heard her cover the phone, so her voice was muffled. "See I told you she'd be up."

"Miranda? Is everything okay?" I sat up. Right away I thought about Mom and Dad. Had something happened?

"Yeah, yeah." I could hear the impatience in her voice. "Everything's fine. You're always so worried about everything. You should really just chill out." I ignored her criticism.

"What is it then, Miranda? I was just going to bed," I hoped she'd get right to the point.

"You know when we talked last time and I told you about the awesome deal we'd got to go to the Dominican Republic for Christmas?"

"Yes."

"It was a really good deal, the airfare, the transportation to and from the airport, the food, drinks, everything was included."

"Yes, Miranda, you told me." I tried to contain my irritation. Miranda had a habit of calling me at odd and usually inconvenient times and talking about herself the whole time. Don't get me wrong, sometimes we had really great conversations, but that was the exception to the rule.

"Well, Ceese, the whole fucking company went belly up. Gone out of business. Bankrupt. You know what the company going bankrupt means, Ceci?"

"What?" I said, deciding that it was a rhetorical question.

"That they don't have to give anybody's money back, that's what." Her voice rose in volume, and I could hear Will in the background telling her to calm down. That it wouldn't do any good to freak out about it.

"So, you lost your money."

"Our money and our tickets, the whole thing. We can't go. And we can't afford to buy another set of tickets to go anywhere else."

"That's too bad, Miranda. I hope you didn't call to ask me for money because I don't have any to spare."

"Nah, I'm over it." Sure she was. You could tell how she wasn't the least bit upset about it anymore at all.

"The thing is, though, Will and I thought we'd go home. Mom's been bugging us to come this year since January, I think. She did not like it when we went away last year, and even though I wanted to go again, it seems that fate is conspiring against me." Miranda had been a dutiful daughter - she and Will made the trip every year and spent two weeks - well, except for last year. Whereas I hadn't been home for Christmas since I left, because the thought made me ill. I didn't want to go back there where I'd been so miserable.

Here I had a life. I was someone. I was the owner of Cecilia's – red-seal chef, restaurant owner, innovator, and cheerful hostess. I loved my work and sincerely wanted to make people happy when they came into my place.

At home, I would just be Miranda's little sister. My mom would be sweetly overbearing and charmingly force me to do things I didn't want to do. I was my dad's pet and always felt uncomfortable when he treated me differently than Miranda. And my sister, well, she'd flaunt her boyfriend in my face and remind me that I had no one. That there'd never been anyone. Those few first dates from hell didn't count.

And Will. I didn't want to see Will.

When I was here, in my regular life, for most of the day I forgot that my heart still ached for him. I didn't often indulge in thoughts about him because I recognized that it was self-destructive. But somehow I couldn't forget him - couldn't get him out of my mind. The last thing I wanted was to actually see him in person. Surely that would be much worse - way more painful than just reliving my ancient memories. Even just hearing his voice in the background on the phone made my heart flutter. Sheesh.

"Cecilia, are you there? I said, will you come too?"

"What?"

"Come home? Are you even listening to me? I asked if you would come home for Christmas too."

"Home for Christmas? Why?" I was honestly confused. Why would she want me to come home?

"Mom wanted me to ask you. She thought maybe I could convince you. She wants us all home for once. It's not the same without you, Ceci." Yeah, you don't have to share the attention, I thought. But was there a note of sadness in her tone? Could they really miss me that much?

"Will says to tell you we'll get Skittles and watch The Princess Bride. Come on, Ceci. You know you can't resist Skittles and The Princess Bride."

Will wanted me to come? I felt my heart pounding in my chest. It was ridiculous. He's your sister's boyfriend, I reminded myself again. What was I thinking? I didn't want to go home.

"I can't, Miranda. I just can't."

"But Cecilia, please. You have to."

"No, Miranda, I don't. I'm too busy. There's too much going on at Christmas."

"Don't you have that really good employee? What's her name? Rose? She could run the place while you're gone. You trust her, right?"

"It's not about that."

"What is it about then? Look, I didn't want to tell you this because it seems like I'm trying to make you come or something. But Dad had some tests done." What was she talking about? Of course, she was trying to make me go home. Why else was she calling?

"What kind of tests? You said nothing was wrong," I said, panic creeping into my voice. Was Dad sick?

"Nothing is wrong, Cecilia," she said quietly. "But what if there was? I just thought maybe a Christmas together as a family wouldn't be a bad thing. Why wait until somebody's sick to come home? It would make all of us really happy. It would make me happy to see you again." My heart melted. This was the Miranda who'd come and got me out of my own little bed every single night when we were girls so that I could come and snuggle with her. Then she'd sing me songs until I went back to sleep nestled in close to her. She used to give me piggy-backs and horsey rides. Once we were older, she would always tell me everything I needed to know to be able to navigate new situations successfully. I know that I always did better than I would have if she hadn't given me the heads-up. It was only in those last couple years of high school that we'd grown apart, especially after Will. The truth was, as much as I was disappointed in her for making a move on a guy I liked, I missed my sister. But still I waffled.

"I don't know, Miranda. I've got plans." Yeah, for a turkey salad from The Corner Deli and the latest Diana Gabaldon book.

"Plans? I bet. Take-out and a new novel, eh?"

Shit. Busted.

"I don't think... I just don't think it's a good idea, Miranda. I'm sorry."

"Okay, Ceese. I'm sorry too," she said, the sadness in her voice obvious now.

I didn't miss having a real Christmas. I'd done Christmas with friends pretty much every year since I left home. My friends always had the holiday spirit, and we managed a passable amount of fa-la-laing and all that. Once in a while I didn't have any offers and I just stayed home on my own with a turkey salad and a good book.

No, I wasn't lonely.

Not much anyway.

CHAPTER TWO

The Text

Cecilia

When I got up in the morning, sunshine was streaming into the living room. I took my lemon water there to drink. I smiled. This morning somehow felt full of possibility. I grabbed the book I was reading and curled up on the couch. I didn't have to be at the restaurant till noon.

A few minutes later, my phone buzzed - I hadn't turned on my ringer yet. I picked it up and stared at the screen.

Will: Hey Celia. You up?

I remained frozen, phone in my hand. He was texting me? From his own phone? Possibly without my sister even knowing about it? And using the nickname he used to call me back when we were friends?

I started breathing again. Jeez, Cecilia, chill the frick out. It's just a damned text. Just text him back.

Cecilia: Yeah, just having water and reading. What's up?

That was cool, wasn't it? Sounded normal. Not like I was hyperventilating at all. The dots appeared that meant he was typing a reply. When they disappeared, I waited - holding my breath - to find out what he wanted.

Will: It's about Christmas.

Cecilia: Yeah?

Will: We were all really hoping you'd come.

My heart fell. Yeah, that's what Miranda said. Maybe she was texting from his phone. No. She didn't know his nickname for me. That was before she knew him. Though conceivably he might have told her, but I didn't think he would have.

Sorry. It's really busy at the restaurant right now.

There was a long pause, then I saw the dots again. I wasn't quite as interested in seeing what he would text this time, since it seemed that Miranda or Mom had probably put him up to it. I set the phone down and picked up my book again. When it buzzed again, I even waited - three seconds - before I picked it up.

What if I said we all really miss you and want to see you, Celia?

Wouldn't change anything. I know that. You guys have done without me for years now. This year is no different.

Harsh, but true. But even as I typed it, I knew that something was different this year. I felt like I was done with this empty life. I felt like I was standing on the edge of something new. It excited me and scared me at the same time. I wasn't sure I ready for different and new. Comfortable was okay. My phone buzzed.

Will: What if I said that an old friend wanted to see you?

An old friend? Who would that be? I ran through the friends I'd had back home in high school and couldn't think who he'd be talking about.

An old friend? Who?

Me.

Oh.

I swallowed.

Well, that was an entirely different thing, then, wasn't it?

~~~

A few hours later, I was at the restaurant, chopping mushrooms beside my manager, Rose.

"So, I'm considering going home for Christmas," I said as casually as I could manage, considering I had never taken any holidays longer than a weekend before and I had never gone farther than the nearby national park to go camping.

She stopped chopping green peppers and stared at me. I didn't say anything, just kept chopping the mushrooms.

"Are you serious?" she said, after a moment.

"Maybe." Better to be cautious. I couldn't tell how she felt about the idea yet.

"Really, Ceci? Are you really going to take some time off and go home?"

"I don't know, I haven't decided yet."

"Oh, but you should. It would be so good for you," she said laying her knife on the counter.

I was surprised. She wanted me to go?

"Good for me?"

She looked at me with compassion in her eyes. I know she didn't mean to, but all of a sudden she made me realize how pathetic my life must actually be for her to be looking at me like that. Rose was about ten years older than me. She had short blonde hair and a no-nonsense attitude that I liked. She dealt with the staff and the customers well, and we complemented each other, bringing different skills sets to the business. I was considering offering her a chance to be partners with me, but I wasn't quite ready for that step yet. Rose had a wonderful husband who adored her and two sweet children. I loved it when they came in to the restaurant, even though it reminded me of everything I didn't have. And now she looked like she didn't know how to say what she wanted to say without hurting my feelings.

"Just say it, Rose. You'll feel better," I said.

"It's just that, well, you seem lonely sometimes, Ceci. Maybe seeing your family would be good. And you work too hard. You need a break. Otherwise you're going to burn out. You know we can handle things here. I think you should go," she said.

She was echoing my thoughts of yesterday. That I was lonesome and starting to burn out. Maybe she was right.

And Will had asked me particularly.

Just then I made the decision. I didn't know where this choice would lead me, but right then I knew I had to go and find out.

~~~

I got out of the cab and stood on the street. Snow was falling lightly. I examined my parents' house. It seemed smaller, maybe a little dingy. Dad needed to paint it. Then I saw the curtains move, and I knew I'd been spotted. No use standing here anymore getting cold. I walked up to the door. I was about to knock, but then I thought that that would be weird, so I reached for the door knob. The door flew open then, and Miranda nearly knocked me off the steps with a huge hug.

"Ceci!" she said. I smiled and hugged her back. Oh, I had missed her so much. I hadn't realized quite how much until this moment. "Come in, come in, come in."

She pulled me into the house, grabbing my backpack and setting it down by the stairs. After I'd shed my winter clothes, Mom was next, with tears in her eyes. She folded me into her arms, and I breathed in her slightly cinnamon smell.

"Mom," I said.

"I'm so glad you came, my Ceci." She stepped back and let my Dad hug me next. He held me tight and then kissed my cheek.

Will was hanging back in the hallway, not wanting to break into our cozy family reunion. That's how he always was. Even after he and Miranda had been dating for a couple months and he'd become a fixture at our house, as much a part of our family as me, he still hung back sometimes - seeming like he wasn't quite sure of his reception.

He was a foster kid. He'd been in and out of foster homes all his life until he was a teenager - when I'd met him he was living in a group home and couldn't wait to graduate and get his own place. I guess that's why he'd never really felt entirely comfortable with us. He'd never really had a home. He'd told me once that living in foster homes was like always being a guest at your own house. He never wanted to make a wrong move, show any faults, or be himself, in case it wasn't acceptable and it got him kicked out. I couldn't imagine living like that.

Or maybe I could. Where I lived now wasn't home. But no, at least there I could be myself. It wasn't the same at all. And I'd had a proper family. When I found a place that felt like home, I'd know it at least.

"Will? Where's William?" My mother was pulling him forward now. "Look, she's here. Will's been baking your favorite cookies, Cecilia. We can have a snack as soon as you get settled."

He was baking oatmeal chocolate chip cookies? For me? Had he remembered, or had Mom put him up to it? She smiled and pushed Will forward. He didn't seem to know what to do, but I smiled at him and tried not look like an idiot.

"Hey, Will," I said. He stepped forward, and we hugged since that's what everyone expected us to do. I breathed in his scent. Somehow he always smelled like the woods to me. I'd been aware of him from the moment I walked in the door. My whole body had been tingling, and I felt hypersensitive - like all of a sudden I had Spidey senses. And now, being in his arms felt like heaven. But I pushed him away so it wouldn't look weird. He was my sister's boyfriend, after all. I needed to keep that in mind.

"It's good to see you," he said, his mouth curving in a shy half smile that reminded me of everything I'd always loved about him.

"Come into the kitchen, come in," my mom said then. And we all bustled in and sat down around the huge table. The kitchen is the center of the house. My mom is Italian - she came straight from Italy when she was four \- and our whole extended family all still lives here, including my Nonno, that's Grandpa in Italian. Except for me and the odd cousin or two, everyone had stayed or come back. Birthdays were crazy with everyone getting together at someone's house. We used to all gather for birthdays, Christmas, and other holidays too, but the family's too big now and we hardly fit in one person's house. Now we have to get together when it's nice out so we can use the front and backyard, too. Every family did their own Christmas celebration, too. At least, that's what Mom tells me.

Mom poured everyone glasses of milk, and Will set a plate of cookies in the middle. We all grabbed a couple and began eating. They were divine. I closed my eyes on the first bite. They were just the right amount of chewy - without too many chocolate chips. Perfect.

"You like them?" Will said. "I was a little nervous baking for a professional chef, you know."

I laughed.

"No need for that. I'm just a chick that works at a pizza joint."

"That's not what I heard," Dad said. I looked over at him. "We saw the reviews Cecilia's got. We're awfully proud of you, Peanut," he said, using the name he used to call me when I was a little girl.

Mom and Miranda were nodding. They were proud of me? I felt like I was going to cry. Maybe I should have come home a long time ago. Maybe I hadn't given them enough of a chance.

"Well, what about you, Will? You haven't done too badly yourself," I said trying to deflect attention from myself.

"Yeah, that last album was well received."

"Oh he's so modest," Miranda said putting her hand on his and entertwining their fingers. My stomach clenched. He. Is. Your. Sister's. Boyfriend.

I had to remember that. It was going to be fine as long as I didn't get any strange ideas in my head, being near him again. I could do this.

"Some people are calling him the most successful indie musician in the country."

"Indie?" I said, playing dumb. I don't know why I'd said that. I guess because I had felt weird since I got here.

"You know. It's what they call all those musicians, authors, and other independent artists that avoid the traditional gatekeepers in order to produce their own work themselves. Honestly, Cecilia, where have you been living, under a rock?" She emphasized the beginning of independent in order to show me where the word indie came from, I guess. She sounded like she was quoting a book or something. I suppose she had to explain what her boyfriend did for a living quite often. I regretted acting like I didn't know everything there was to know about Will. I'd better stick to being honest, or I would get myself into trouble. I'm a terrible liar.

"It just means that I record, produce, and sell my own music without having a major record label," Will said.

"You know, on the Internet?" Mom said. I felt like being snarky and saying that I knew what the Internet was but that wouldn't be polite. I wouldn't tell him that I was on his list and waited every week for his emails.

"You're on my list, aren't you?" he said. He knew I was on his list? Shit. I hadn't thought that he'd know. Didn't he have some virtual assistant to write his emails for him?

"Yeah, I don't always read all the emails," I said. Lying again? I thought I just decided to be honest? What was going on? Had just walking into this house altered my personality so much? Who was this person, and what had she done with the real me?

"Oh, yeah, of course not. You're busy," he said, looking down at the cookie in his hand. I felt like a complete idiot. Now he thought I didn't care about his emails enough to read them.

"Well, no, usually I do read them... " Every word. Sometimes three times. And saved them in a special folder in my email account. "And I have all your albums. I really liked the newest one - Her."

The truth. That was more like me. I looked up and met his eye.

"I was always a fan, even before you were famous," I said.

"Yeah, you did always like to listen to me play," he said. The moment stretched, and I felt acutely uncomfortable. He was my sister's boyfriend. Remember? I needed to lighten things up.

"And Miranda, how's it going since you started that new job?" I said, changing the subject.

"Oh, don't get me started on my boss... " Once you got Miranda going, she could talk for hours.

Saved.

But when I looked up from my cookie, Will's eyes were still on me.

CHAPTER THREE

The Break-up

Will

I put the last cookie on the plate and washed the lifter, carefully drying it and putting it away. I took as much care with this family as I had with any of my foster families: to be helpful, tidy, and not get in the way. As long as I didn't step on anyone's toes, maybe they'd let me stay - that's how I still felt, even though I was twenty-four, not four. These people were the closest thing I had to a family, and I was not going to screw it up. Not ever.

Miranda asking me out was the best thing that ever happened to me. She was smart, funny, capable, intelligent, and sexy as hell. She'd given me a place where I belonged - and regular sex since I was eighteen. What more could a guy want? She never said it out loud, but I felt the pressure starting to build for us to get married. We had been together a long time, but something was holding me back.

In fact, something had been niggling at me for a while now. Everything seemed perfect. I had Miranda. I was included in her family. Her parents loved me like a son-in-law, no doubt about that. My career as a pianist and singer/songwriter had taken off - finally, after four years of hard work. The paychecks and the accolades were mine, now. I was rubbing elbows with all my heroes. I had all the stuff that I'd dreamed of having when I was a kid: a nice car, penthouse apartment, expensive clothes, and everything else I could want.

So why didn't I feel happy? Why did it seem as though something was missing? I must be crazy to not be satisfied with my life. How ungrateful was that? But I did try to be grateful. No, I was grateful. I just wanted something... more.

No matter how hard I pretended, I still didn't have it and never had.

A home.

It was the one thing I had always wanted for as long as I could remember. Somehow I knew what it was. Even though I'd never had one. Not really. Not even now. The place where Miranda and I lived wasn't home. Sure we used that word, but there wasn't the feeling of home. Of being safe \- like nothing could ever harm me. I must have known that feeling once, maybe when I was a baby. But I hadn't felt it since. I knew that as soon as I had it, I would know. I would feel it, deep in my bones. Home.

That's what I was still looking for. That's why I wasn't happy, even with everything I had and everything I'd achieved. But I had a sinking feeling that I would never find it. That what I had with Miranda was as good as it would get. Sometimes I wondered if I really loved her or if I was just comfortable with her. I know that I care about her, but somehow when I thought about the girl I'd marry, it was never her that came to mind.

But this was madness. This kind of talk would lead to the worst kind of folly. Breaking up with her now would be impossible. No matter how ambivalent I felt about her, with all the time that we'd spent together, I owed her something for that. And I was nothing if not fiercely loyal. Plus I would lose Mr. and Mrs. Ryan. And then there was Cecilia...

Just then I heard Miranda squeal in the living room.

"She's here! She's here!" The front door opened, and I heard an oof as Miranda collided with her sister, whom she hadn't seen in years. I carefully folded the tea towel and hung it neatly over the handle of the oven. Then I made my way down the hall to the front door. I'd be expected to be there when Cecilia came in.

Miranda was pulling her inside now, taking her bag and helping her pull off the outer clothes she wore. When she looked up from taking off her boots, my breath caught.

Shit. I thought I was over that.

Sure, I'd had a crush on her in high school. She helped me with my homework and we'd got to be friends. We hung out. Went for walks. Watched movies at the group home where I lived. She was awesome. I'd even thought about asking her out but could never work up the nerve. I just wasn't sure if she was ever interested in me that way.

Then Miranda told me that Cecilia only liked me as a friend and in the next breath asked me out. And she seemed like Cecilia... but more. She was all over me from the first date. I was horny as hell back then, and I honestly think one of the biggest reasons I stayed with Miranda at first was because I couldn't get enough of her body. I mean, come on. The girl was pulling me into the bushes on the way home from school with a condom in her pocket. You can see why an eighteen-year-old boy could get distracted, right?

And now, I loved Miranda. Didn't I? Why then did I suddenly feel like I was back in high school, hoping that Cecilia would turn and look at me and smile that beautiful smile...

"Will? Where's William?" Miranda's mother grabbed my hand and dragged me out from the hallway where I'd been comfortable. "Look, she's here. Will's been baking your favorite cookies, Cecilia. We can have a snack as soon as you get settled."

I was standing in front of her now. And she was smiling at me - that beautiful smile with such laughter at the back of it, as if she was sharing the best joke ever with you. And her family would expect me to hug her. I could feel my palms start to sweat at the thought.

"Hey, Will," she said softly and stepped forward.

Then she was in my arms. The girl from my dreams. The dreams I never told Miranda about. I wouldn't even admit to myself that she'd been the one, until now, when I felt her softness wrapping around me and I knew it was her. I maybe held on a little too long, and she pushed away. I felt my cheeks get red, but nobody seemed to notice. I struggled to find something to say, even as my mouth seemed detached from my brain.

"It's good to see you," I said, and meant it. Lame, but appropriate. The next thing I knew Mrs. Ryan was bustling us all into the kitchen and serving up milk. I put my cookies on the table. She liked them, and somehow it made me feel good. Like a man. I know, I know, since when does baking cookies make a guy feel manly? When a girl is impressed by them, I suppose. Just like a caveman dragging home a mammoth to impress his cavewoman.

Of course, I had my own cavewoman already, and I wasn't looking to impress Cecilia. I was just glad she liked them. I had a girlfriend. I had a family because of her. And I wasn't going to mess that up. I probably would never get another chance at the closest thing to home that I'd ever find. And not even a six-year-old crush on Cecilia was going to make me do anything that would jeopardize that.

~~~

I had noticed something was a little off with Miranda for the past week or so, but I'd put it down to hormones or the Christmas season - or whatever. Sometimes she was just bitchy, and it wasn't my fault. Just like sometimes I was an asshole, and it wasn't her fault. When you're with someone, you forgive them for the times when they're not quite themselves. But today had been a little much - kind of emotional for all of us, what with Cecilia coming home and everything. I guess maybe I was just exhausted from the travel and the commotion.

"Will, come to bed and warm me up," Miranda said in a whiny voice. We had long ago given up the pretense that we weren't sleeping together, and her parents had accepted it. It was one more reason why I was beginning to feel obligated to marry Miranda. Because her parents treated us like we were married already. But what we had was the furthest thing from marriage. At least, it was the furthest thing from what I had always hoped marriage would be with the wife I'd always wanted.

When I thought about it, which I admit was not often, but when I did I always imagined my wife and I having a relationship based on honesty and mutual passion. I thought I'd just feel more strongly about her than I do about Miranda. I thought I'd be crazier or something. I thought I would feel like I couldn't live without her.

"I'm pretty tired tonight, Mira. I don't really feel like it." That was the truth. I certainly didn't feel like having sex with Miranda when I couldn't get her sister's face out of my mind.

Her sleepy eyes opened wide, and she frowned at me.

"I wasn't talking about sex, Will. Sometimes I just want you near me, that's all."

"Well... "

"You know what?" she said, sitting up and throwing off the covers, suddenly angry. "Never mind. I don't need you. I'll go sleep downstairs with a hot water bottle."

"What?" I said, confused. Just because I'd said I wasn't interested in sex and she hadn't wanted to have sex anyway? Women.

"I don't need you, and I'm beginning to think that you don't need me either."

"Mira, what are you talking about? Of course, I... " She interrupted me, holding up her hand palm toward me.

"No, Will. Look, I've been thinking about this for a while, and tonight it just seems so futile to go on pretending."

"Pretending? Pretending what?"

"That we love each other."

"What?" The horror of what was actually happening began to sink in. "But I do... " She pressed her finger to my lips before I could say it.

"No. Don't say it anymore. I know you care about me, Will, but what we have is not love." She shook her head, and her eyes were full of tears that she wouldn't let fall.

"Wait, Miranda, let's just back things up a little ways," I said, feeling more and more desperate. "I know we haven't been getting along very well lately, but that's no reason to do something we'll both regret. We can work on it. I'll do whatever you want."

"But that's where you're wrong, Will. I won't regret it. And neither will you once you get used to the idea. We can't work on something that doesn't exist."

I felt my world crumbling around me. Without Miranda, my tenuous link to this family was gone. I would have no reason to ever see any of them again. I wouldn't be able to phone up Mrs. Ryan for a chicken recipe or ask Mr. Ryan for advice on how to unclog the sink. I couldn't let that happen.

"You can't leave me, Miranda. You just can't," I said walking over to her. She just shook her head.

"This is the Western world in the twenty-first century, Will. Actually, I can leave you. And I am. And you can't stop me."

I sat down heavily on the bed, my head in my hands. Everything was swirling out of control, and I didn't know how to get it back. Ten minutes ago, I'd been contemplating going to bed and the beginning of the holiday traditions. I would get up tomorrow morning and go to get the Christmas tree with Mr. Ryan. I had been looking forward to going skating and having hot chocolate. If she left me – and it certainly seemed like she was going to – I would have to leave. Maybe go back to our apartment in New York. Where else would I go? I had some friends that would take a pathetic guy like me in, especially at this time of year and with the story that my girlfriend dumped me three days before Christmas. My heart was aching but from exactly what, I don't know. I knew I didn't want Miranda to leave me.

For her, she was just cutting me loose. For me, it was everything. She was taking everything from me, but she didn't know it. She'd never known that having her had brought me so much more than just her. She was sweet and loving, but she didn't really pay close attention to people, and she'd never seen my longing for a home. She'd never noticed that I was almost as eager to be with her family as I was to be with her.

I felt like such an asshole now, as if I'd just been using her. Because I was honestly more upset about the tree and the hot chocolate than I was when I thought about a future without her in it. This was insane. It couldn't be happening.

"Miranda," I said, lifting my head. I stopped. She was getting dressed.

"I'm going back to New York. Right now. I'll go to Laila's for Christmas. Mom won't like it, but she'll have to get over it. You can stay here and have Christmas with the family. Goodness knows you always enjoyed it more than I did. Tell Cecilia I'll come to visit. Now that I've seen her after all these years, I can't go so long without seeing her again." Her suitcase was barely unpacked, and she grabbed the clothes from the chair and threw them in. She stuffed a few more items from the dresser in the pocket and zipped it up. "I'll call Mom and Dad in the morning and explain things. Don't worry, I'll take all the blame."

"Miranda, no. You can't leave now. Can't we have Christmas and talk about this once we go home?" I said. I could have cried. I felt like a three-year-old boy who's just found out that he dropped his teddy at the mall and lost it and he can never ever have it back.

"No, Will. I'm leaving you. And I'm leaving here. And I'm never going to come back to you, so don't get your hopes up that I will change my mind."

"But... " She walked over to me and kissed my cheek.

"I am so sorry, Will, to do this now. I know the timing is horrendously bad. But I just can't go through the motions anymore. Not for one second longer. This has been coming for a while, and don't pretend that you didn't see it. I know you felt the huge gap between us too. You were just too afraid to act on it. Well, I'm not. This is it. It's over."

And with that, she walked out the door and left me standing amid the ruins of my life, wondering what the hell I would do now.

CHAPTER FOUR

The Rescue

Cecilia

Oh, my God. Miranda's breaking up with Will.

I had gone to bed a couple hours earlier and had just woken up to go pee. I had stumbled out of my room and been about to turn to go down the hall to the bathroom when I had heard Miranda's raised voice and instantly woke up. I had never heard them fight before. I wasn't sure they even did.

I heard her saying that she had been thinking about it for a long time.

I moved closer to their door so I wouldn't miss anything, shamelessly eavesdropping. She said that she was never ever going to take him back so not to get his hopes up. Finally she barged out the door with her suitcase and almost crashed into me.

"Miranda?" I said in the sleepiest voice I could manage on such short notice. "What's going on?"

"I'm leaving."

"What? Why?"

"I broke up with Will, and I can't stay here and have Christmas with him."

"No."

"Yes. Why is it so hard for you and him to believe?" she said in a frustrated tone. I frowned.

"Because you guys have always seemed so perfect for each other and you've never had any trouble before? And there was no sign that things weren't going well? Because this is coming from totally out of left field?"

"Okay, okay. When you put it that way... Cecilia, I can't be with someone I don't love and who doesn't love me. I know you've never had a serious relationship, but you can understand that, can't you?"

I felt my fury rising. Leave it to her to rub my nose in it, even at a moment like this.

"Yes, Miranda. I can understand that. Because that's why I've never had a serious relationship. I couldn't be with someone halfway."

She stepped back as if I'd slapped her. Then she gazed at me, like, really looked at me. As if she'd never seen me before.

"I guess I might have deserved that," she said, to my shock. Maybe she was changing, had changed, whatever. I took a deep breath and nodded.

"Look, Ceci. I'm going, and Will can stay here and have Christmas. You know he always liked it more than me anyway. Take the cookies for example. I couldn't be bothered. Don't let Mom do anything crazy, you know how she is."

"I'm supposed to stop Mom if she gets some scheme in her head?" I said, my eyebrows raised. "Who do you think I am, Supergirl or something?"

"You're right. Just try to convince her that I'm not upset or anything - that it had to happen, etc. I'll call and talk to her in the morning. Cover for me until then, okay?"

"I'll do my best, Miranda, but you know Mom. She will do what she will do - kind of like you."

She gave me a rueful smile and then, to my surprise, teared up.

"I am really sad to be leaving you. We didn't even get to catch up yet." My shoulders sagged. She was right. Here we were only just reuniting, and now she was leaving me.

"Couldn't you just stay for Christmas?" I said, knowing I was begging a little. I felt like we were small again and she had two candies left and I'd already eaten all of mine and I was pleading with her to share one.

She put her suitcase down and hugged me, hard.

"I love you, Ceci," she said. "Can I come visit when you get home? I'll come for a couple weeks. We can really catch up."

"That would be wonderful," I said. "I'll look forward to it."

"Okay, I have to go. The last thing I want is for Mom and Dad to wake up. That would be way too much drama. Take care of yourself, okay, Ceci?"

"I will. But Miranda... Are you really leaving Will for good? After all these years?"

"I really am."

"But you might get back together?"

"No. Like I told him, I will never, ever be with him again. We don't love each other, Ceese. It just doesn't make sense. I can't believe I stayed with him this long. It's not that I don't care about him, I do. But there's just no fire there. You know?"

I nodded. Of course I did.

"I'll see you soon, okay?" She kissed me on the cheek, and in a flurry of auburn curls, she was gone.

Great.

Mom was so going to freak.

~~~

I knew she was going to have a fit when she found out, but I thought the scream was a little over the top. Will came bounding down the stairs two at a time. He was pulling on his T-shirt as he descended, and I caught a glimpse of his chiseled abs that made my heart beat faster.

When had he got so hot? I mean, I'd really been in love with him in high school, but sex was not exactly something I had imagined at the time. Yeah, I managed to satisfy my own needs and I had got better at it - out of necessity over the years - but I hadn't felt so... what was the word? Horny, back then. I guess a lifetime of chastity will do that to a girl. I had imagined him kissing me, and I'd felt all warm and fuzzy when we sat next to each other, but this... This was a raging inferno that seemed to have been unleashed when I heard my sister utter the words "never, ever" in reference to the likelihood of her getting back together with him.

If she was never, ever going to get back together with him again, then that made him no longer my sister's boyfriend but just a man. A man I cared about a lot. A man that I thought was pretty much the hottest thing on the planet.

I dragged my thoughts back up from the gutter and tried to pay attention to the conversation.

"What's this Cecilia says about Miranda being gone?" My mother was demanding of Will, who was still trying to figure out where the fire was. He looked at me, eyes wide and begging for help.

"Uh, Mom was upset when she heard that Miranda had broken up with you. So much so that she screamed. There's no fire, tornado, or burglar breaking into our house."

"Oh, you with the sarcastic mouth. That part I did not miss." She frowned at me. I smiled back. Her tantrums didn't affect me the way they used to. "Is she telling the truth? She is not mistaken?"

"I'm afraid not, Mrs. Ryan. Last night, she just said that we'd been growing apart for some time and it was time to stop pretending."

"Will you not go after her?" My mother took a step toward him with her best crazy Italian mama impersonation - except she wasn't making it up. "You will go and get her and bring her back. She is just having PMS, maybe. She will be glad that her handsome prince went and saved her from her folly."

Okay, this was definitely not going well.

"Ma," I said, stepping between her and Will and getting in her face. "These are the words she used. I will never, ever get back together with Will." I saw him wince. Sorry, man. But we have to make her see. Otherwise she'll be all over this with one of her harebrained schemes. "Right, Will?"

I gave him a look that said, "Convince her of this, or else we will all pay." He seemed to understand, though he looked uncomfortable. He didn't like being the center of attention - the boy who'd lived his life on the sidelines.

"That's what she told me, too, Mrs. Ryan. I thought maybe she only wanted a break, but she said it was over."

"No, it can't be." My mother sat down on the couch like her legs were giving out on her. She loved melodrama. Soaps were her favorite kind of TV show. My dad was listening to all of this in thoughtful silence.

Will's face was red now. He really didn't like all this talking about him. The phone rang then and saved us all from further discussion. My mother pounced on it.

"Miranda?" she said into the receiver. They had a phone with a cord. That's how traditional my mother is. She says this phone works fine. She doesn't need a phone that's smart.

She listened for a long time.

"But you can't be serious, Miranda, my sweetheart. Will is perfect for you."

Will looked like he wanted to crawl under a rock, but I had to give it to him: He didn't leave. There was more talking on Miranda's end.

"But how will we have a family Christmas without you? It was supposed to be a family Christmas."

She waited.

"Of course Will can stay. He is more my son than you are my daughter right now with your craziness. He will always be welcome here. I can't say the same for you."

And now I knew she was really just trying to convince Miranda with her crazy mama act because I knew she would never disown me or Miranda. We are her girls. Her darlings.

And her only chance at grandchildren. Mom was just trying to manipulate her into coming back, so that she could have the Christmas she wanted.

There was more talking, and then my mother jerked her head away from the phone.

"She hung up," she said, looking at me accusingly. I shrugged.

"I'm pretty sure you gave her no choice, Mom."

"Well, Aidan, pack up. We're leaving."

"What do you mean you're leaving?" I said. "You all convinced me to come here, and now you're all leaving me? I should have stayed home with my turkey salad and novel. It would have been a hell of a lot less drama," I said, sitting down on the chair opposite my mother. I felt like folding my arms and pouting, too, but I thought that might be a bit much.

"Cecilia, my love, you must understand. We will be back in time for Christmas, and your sister will be with us. Then we can have the family Christmas we all wanted. You will see. It is a good idea."

"Now, Gianna, don't talk crazy. We're not flying to New York." My father stepped in, the voice of reason.

"Of course not, Aidan, you know I'm afraid to fly. We will drive. And we've no time to lose if we're to be back in time for Christmas."

"Gianna, I am not driving you to New York. That's crazy talk, Miranda was very clear... "

My mother gave my father a look.

"Aidan, can I have a word with you?"

He looked at me, resigned, and I knew they were going to New York.

An hour later, Will and I were standing in the driveway waving goodbye to my parents. As we turned to go back inside - alone - a thought occurred to me. It was a strange, exhilarating thought. It was as crazy and harebrained in its own way, as was my mother's scheme to get them back together. It was insane, that's what it was.

But I couldn't help thinking, what if... What if I had a chance now to do what I should have done way back when Will and I had first met? What if, after all these years, I could spend time with him, get to know him again, and throwing caution to the wind, tell him how I feel about him? How I've always felt about him.

There, of course, was always the chance that I would crash and burn, fall flat on my face, and be summarily rejected, but at least I would have tried. All these years I've lived with the question in the back of my mind... What if I had said to Miranda that day when she'd asked, that we were more than friends and that she should stay the hell away from him because I was interested? What would have happened if Miranda hadn't come between us?

I suddenly felt that I was being given a second chance. Yes, Will was heartbroken. Yes, my parents would only be gone a day or two. Yes, we hadn't seen each other in years and might feel completely uncomfortable together. Yes, he might not have ever felt that way about me and might never feel that way about me. But I ignored all the obstacles. They'd prevented me from trying the first time, I wouldn't let them stop me this time.

It was a nutty plan, but I had to make the attempt. I had two days to show him. To capture his heart and win his hand. As soon as I'd walked through the front door yesterday, I'd known that I couldn't go back to my old life of only half feelings and remembrances. It wasn't enough. And if it didn't work out, if he didn't feel the same way, well then at least I'd know I'd tried. I would have closure. And I would know I had done my best.

But I wouldn't think of that. Right now, my only thought was of winning his love. I couldn't be that woman anymore who was satisfied with almost enough.

I needed it all, now. Love, relationship, sex, intimacy, the whole shebang.

Nothing less would do.

CHAPTER FIVE

The Christmas List

Will

Cecilia and I went into the house, and instantly the tension went through the roof. Here we were - Cecilia and I. My girlfriend - her sister - had just broken up with me. Her crazy mother was making her father drive to New York in order to get my girlfriend back for me, even though said girlfriend had very clearly stated that she would never, ever get back together with me - she even felt the need to add a qualifier to the word "never," which in standard speech is fairly definitive and the entire phrase seemed like a bit of overkill. Her mother had left us a list a mile long of things we had to get done before they got back with my kidnapped, unwilling ex-girlfriend and we all had a perfect Christmas.

The absurdity of it all hit me, and I started to laugh, rather hysterically I might add, until my eyes were tearing up and I had to hold my stomach. Cecilia just stared at me.

"What are you laughing at?" she said, seeming mystified by what could possibly be funny at a time like this.

"It's just so... ridiculous," I said, gasping between words. "The break-up... your mother and father going to get my... girlfriend back for me. Never, ever... The Christmas list from hell... " I couldn't speak anymore, I was so out of breath from laughing so hard. You know when you just get one of those fits where you can't stop laughing? It was like that. As soon as I said about her parents going to get Miranda back for me, Cecilia started to laugh too. It really was ludicrous.

After a minute, we calmed down, and things were great. No more tension. Nothing like having a giggle fit with someone to make you feel comfortable. But then, I'd always felt comfortable with Cecilia. We'd never had any awkward moments like Miranda and I had had at the beginning. It had always been like I'd known Cecilia forever.

"Breakfast?" she said.

"I'll make us pancakes," I said.

"Sure. I love cooking, but I never feel like making stuff for myself. It always seems like a waste of time."

She laughed at her own words.

"Well, I'll make you some blueberry pancakes. Remember Marisa from the group home?" I said.

"Oh my goodness, I haven't thought of her in ages. She was a really nice lady."

"Yeah, she was. And she gave me her secret pancake recipe, which is the best in the world. So, prepare to be amazed."

Cecilia smiled. It was like old times. Or at least that's what it felt like to me. She seemed happy, and we kept up a stream of conversation - catching up on our lives in the past six years.

"So, was Juilliard all that you hoped?" she said at one point.

"It was, Cecilia. I just can't describe it. So many people all there because they love to make music and are really, really, good at it. You don't know what it's like to be in an environment that is so sympathetic to your talents and abilities."

"Maybe I do," she said.

I smacked my forehead.

"Of course you do. You went to that chef school or whatever it was called. And got your red... What was it?"

"My red seal. It's kind of a big deal in the cooking world."

"I know, I know. You're an expert. Don't remind me, or I'll be so nervous you'll have to make the pancakes."

"I'll get out of your way," she said. "I can squeeze some orange juice - Mom has a bag of oranges in the fridge. It'll go great with the pancakes."

"Sure," I said, getting out the pan from the cupboard and the butter and eggs from the fridge. We went to work, and soon we were sitting at the island in Mrs. Ryan's kitchen, eating big stacks of blueberry pancakes with maple syrup and fresh orange juice. It tasted heavenly.

I loved the way Cecilia closed her eyes when she took her first bite. In fact, it kind of made me hard. It was just such a sexy thing the way she put it slowly in her mouth and closed her eyes. Sometimes she'd make a little sound when she did it.

But wait. Hold up there, mister horny pants. I'm still getting over Miranda. I'm not looking for somebody new. Especially not Cecilia. That would really tear things apart. If Miranda left me, well that was all right because after all Mr. and Mrs. Ryan hadn't kicked me out and it sounded like I could still be... whatever with them. Even without being Miranda's boyfriend.

After this fiasco with Miranda, I was going to be careful next time. And I was going to wait quite a while. I was not going to rush in just because a woman wanted to have sex with me. I was going to be sure next time, the way I had never been sure with Miranda. I was going to ignore this attraction to Cecilia and the crush I used to have on her and just treat her like the friend she was.

"So, shall we take a look at this list Mom left us? It's pretty long," she said, giving me an apologetic look. She grabbed a pen and began to read the list.

"Well?" I said and put another bite of pancake into my mouth - they really were good.

"Okay, we are not doing all of this. It's just... too much. My mother is crazy, but you know that. If there were the five of us, we might get it all done, but just us? She's out of her mind."

"Let me see," I said and she handed it over. "Okay, why don't we make a new, reasonable list?"

"Okay." Cecilia grabbed a new paper from the pad by the phone and waited, pen poised.

"Obviously, we have to get a tree and decorate it."

"Obviously," she said.

"And put up the other decorations. Oh, and do the grocery shopping, get all the food. Your mom would have done that today."

"Yes, in case they actually come back in time."

"You think they won't?" I said, pausing with my fork halfway to my mouth.

"You live there. It's December in New York, and the snowfall is supposed to be unusually high this year."

I hadn't thought about it. If it snowed, it snowed. I never checked the weather. Wait a minute. Why did she know what the weather was supposed to be like in New York?

"How do you know that?" I said, my eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

She blushed. I swear she did.

"Never mind. They'll be back. Anyway, let's get back to this list," she said, dismissing the thought that they might not get back in time... and my question, I noticed, at the same time.

"We have to still go skating," I said. "It's my favorite. With hot chocolate afterwards, of course."

"You're such a kid," Cecilia said.

"What's Christmas without the rituals and the traditions? That's what it's all about."

"Still searching for home," she said softly, almost to herself.

"What was that?" I said, not sure I'd heard her correctly.

"When we were friends way back when, you always just wanted a home."

I held my breath. How did she know that? It was my deepest secret.

"How do you know that?" I said staring at her, the mood suddenly serious.

She tilted her head and gave me a look like she couldn't believe I needed to ask.

"It's written all over your face," she said. "It always has been, Will."

In six years, Miranda hadn't ever noticed, and now here was Cecilia saying that she had always known it. That it was obvious. I stared into her eyes and felt like I was seeing her for the first time since I started going out with Miranda. How could I have overlooked her for Miranda? Just because of the sex? That couldn't be it. I'd been blinded by the thought of finally fitting into a family where I actually belonged. And once I had Miranda - and her family - I couldn't stand the thought of losing all of that. What an idiot I'd been!

Hold on, cowboy, you're not looking for anybody new, remember? And she was the absolute worst person if I was looking for someone new because how low would it be for me to break up with one sister and then sleep with the other? I didn't do stuff like that. I tried to be upstanding, honorable.

I'd never had a father, but I tried to emulate Mr. Ryan. He was a good guy - took care of his family, did work that benefited the world, loved his wife. He'd never do something like ditch one sister and then shag the other. That was just, I don't know. It just felt wrong to me somehow. Cecilia was just a friend. That's all. Now focus, I told myself.

She'd gone back to studying the list.

"My mom put on here for us to go to the town Christmas party at the hall tomorrow night. Now why would she have put that on there?"

"Because it's tradition, Cecilia. We go every year."

"I don't." She pointed out.

"You do this year," I said. "Put it on our list."

"I haven't been to the town Christmas party since I was in high school. What will they think when we walk in together without the rest of the family?"

"We tell them that there was an emergency in New York, which according to your mother, there is. That's the truth, and that'll keep them off our backs. You tell them you can finally leave your business and you've come home for Christmas. That's true too. Easy."

"You make it sound easy, I'm not sure fending off all the gossips will be such a cake walk."

"Hey, they're nice people. They're your family and friends. It's the only time we get to hang out with all your family since everyone celebrates separately now."

"You're right, Will. It's just that I'm not used to having anyone paying attention to me. I do my work. I go home. I read my books. I hang out with my friends. No one bothers me. No one gossips about me. No one cares."

"Sounds lonely," I said. She stared hard at the list.

"Sometimes it is, but I'm okay. I'm strong."

What was I thinking even having these outer space, not even possible thoughts about Cecilia? She didn't need me. She had never needed me. Maybe that was what had appealed to me about Miranda back then.

She had needed me. And Cecilia didn't, not in any way, shape, or form. Good. That solves that. There was no point in being even the slightest bit interested in her because after all, she was strong and didn't need anyone.

So why did I feel so let down?

"Let's go get that tree then," she said, breaking the silence. "We might as well get that out of the way. Dad said to borrow his truck."

"Sure, yeah. I'll just go put on some old clothes. Give me a minute."

"Sure," she nodded.

The easy camaraderie was gone. Why had I said that? I'd spoiled things. I sighed and went up to change.

~~~

By the time we got back and had wrestled the tree into the house, we were laughing and talking again. It was hard to stay uncomfortable with Cecilia for long. She was so funny. How had I never noticed it before? I'd always felt that Miranda was so much more of everything, but she was mostly just louder and more in your face. Cecilia's humor was subtle and made me laugh like I hadn't laughed in years. I felt like a boy again. I tried not to think about what that meant. It just felt good to be feeling again. I'd felt like a robot recently, like nothing was interesting anymore.

After we'd set the tree up and got our coats and winter clothes off, we collapsed on the couch.

"We should have picked up pizza," Cecilia said. "I'm starving."

"How about delivery?" I said. "Giovanni's is still the best place in town."

"Oh my God, I haven't had a slice of Giovanni's pizza in years. If I can have just one slice of their pizza once more, I will be ready and willing to die. My life will have been complete."

"Your wish is my command," I said and got up to order.

By the time the pizza came, we were in the middle of the living room, with boxes of decorations everywhere.

"Will? Where's the tinsel? All the decorations are on, now we need the tinsel."

"I think I saw it by the door," I said, balancing a large pizza while I tried to clear the coffee table. Cecilia saw what I was doing and grabbed the boxes off of the table so that I could set down the pizza. When we stood up, we brushed arms, and the feeling was electric. Sensations danced along my skin, and I felt energy flowing through my entire body. What was going on? Touching Miranda had never felt like fireworks. It had felt good, but this was something entirely different - like a whole new dimension. She looked shocked, too. We held each other's gaze a moment too long, then she went back to finding the tinsel and I tried to catch my breath.

That was not nothing.

That was not ignoring her.

That was not "just friends."

Maybe this was going to be harder than I thought.

The crush I'd had on Cecilia had not gone away, dissipated, or in any way changed. If anything, it had got stronger. I seriously felt like a school boy, and I wanted to write Cecilia a note telling her that I "liked" her.

What was I thinking? This was madness. And we still had tonight and another day to go.

CHAPTER SIX

The Kiss

Cecilia

When Will brushed my arm, I thought I was going to faint. I seriously got lightheaded. I felt hot all over, and there was a shot of energy that went straight to my core. And when he stared into my eyes a moment too long, I knew all of a sudden that I wasn't the only one who'd felt the energy.

It was a sign. He wasn't immune to my particular brand of charm, as I'd always thought. In the beginning, he'd been so clearly smitten with Miranda that what was I supposed to think? I mean, really. If he'd liked me, he would have gone out with me, not Miranda, right? But now things were different. It felt like when we'd first met - but the X-rated version that my eighteen-year-old self hadn't been able to contemplate. Since we'd seen each other yesterday for the first time in six years, any contact, however innocent, seemed to set me on fire. Just being in his presence all day today had my panties wetter than they'd been in a long time.

And he felt it too. I was almost 99 percent certain. Well, that 1 percent was just a reasonable amount of caution - I'd been wrong about reading him before. I took a deep breath and gently picked up a few pieces of tinsel and draped it on the tree, just like Dad had taught me. You couldn't just take gobs of it and throw them on, then it looked terrible. I could feel his eyes on me, and the thought made my nipples go hard. What was with me?

I hadn't been this randy since my first time, which had been one of those nightmare first dates I mentioned before. I was really hot for the guy - I'd been interested in him for a long time.

We went out for dinner and a movie, and I invited him back to my place. I am embarrassed about it now, but I don't regret it. It got me in the club. You know, the yay-I'm-like-everyone-else-now-because-I've-had-sex club. But it wasn't the way I'd choose to lose it if I had it to do over. Let's just say that I didn't tell him I was a virgin, he didn't notice and didn't really care if I had an orgasm or not, and it was all over in about ten minutes. To say I was disappointed was an understatement. But it was worse the next day and the next day, and the following three weeks, when he didn't call. After those three weeks I gave up hoping he would contact me and accepted the fact that I'd been an easy fuck and that's how I'd lost my virginity.

The one and only time I'd had sex had been a ten-minute-long one-night stand and my first time. Not exactly designed for pleasure. I sighed softly. After that horrible experience, I'd never dared try sex or even dating again. I couldn't get past the first date. None of them were a match for me. I could feel it right away. I guess now it was the fact that they weren't Will, but I hadn't realized it then.

Of course, that first taste of desire paled in comparison to how I felt now. Just imagining for a millisecond what it would feel like to have Will's hands on me was turning my legs into jelly and making me breathe faster. Whoa, girl. Get a hold of yourself. You still have to get through a couple days with the guy, without jumping his newly dumped bones. Probably the sexual fantasies should stop in that case, I decided.

"Almost done?" Will said as he finished putting up the garland on the wall around the room next to the ceiling.

"Yep, we can just clean up the boxes and eat. If I was starving before, I'm ravenous now."

I let the double entendre show through my words, hoping he'd pick up on it. Were his cheeks a bit red? Maybe. I smiled to myself and went to wash the dust off my hands.

~~~

Later, we sat on the couch, eating pizza and watching The Princess Bride. We had promised each other not to repeat every line along with the actors, but I could see his lips moving, just like mine. I shouldn't have thought about his lips because then I thought about kissing them. I would put my hands on his cheeks and lean in, and it would be heavenly. One thing would lead to another and...

"Well, no Skittles, but pizza from Giovanni's will have to do," he said breaking in on my thoughts.

"Yeah, Giovanni's is so much better than Skittles," I said. "You're my hero forever for getting me some."

He looked a little sheepish, if my sideways observances were accurate.

"I just dialed. They did the rest."

"Still, I owe you," I said, again meaning more than the words. He shifted his hips a little, and I swallowed nervously. I tried not to look down there, but I couldn't help it. Were his pants bulging a little more?

I thought the sexual fantasies were supposed to stop.

The movie finally came to an end. I'd enjoyed it, but having him next to me was just too damn distracting.

"Inconceivable," he said, smiling. Then he stopped the DVD and clicked off the television. Instantly the room was pitch dark - he'd forgotten that we'd turned off all the lights.

"Shit," he said, moving to go turn on the lights at the exact same time as I did. We collided with full frontal body impact. I felt my breasts press against his chest and couldn't help the small gasp that escaped me.

"Oh, Cecilia," he said. "I'm so sorry. I'll get the lights."

I felt scared, but I had to do it. The opportunity was too good to miss.

I reached up and put one hand on each cheek, pulling him to me at the same time as I went up on my tippy toes.

'Celia?" he said a moment before I pressed my lips to his.

There was an explosion inside me. Fireworks went off behind my eyes. My nipples hardened with pent-up desire as they brushed his chest. I felt excitement deep inside and a strange joy that made me feel like crying. I felt like yelling, "Yes! This is what I've been waiting for all this time."

He froze at first, and then I felt him kiss me back. He was kissing me back! And he was the one who deepened it, opening his lips so that our tongues could entertwine. And if I was hot before, I was burning up now. My arms went around his neck, and he wrapped his strong piano player's hands around my waist, pulling me closer. I could feel that he was hard now, if he hadn't been before.

Jesus. Was this really happening? That's what I thought just before he pulled away.

"No," he said, breathing hard. "No, Celia. This is a mistake." A mistake. The best moment of my life was a mistake? I beg to differ. He moved around me then and went and turned on the lamp by the door.

"Right," I said. "Oops."

I could tell he was fighting not to smile. Then his face got really serious. I felt my stomach tighten. Please let him not say we should just be friends - anything but that. Not "just friends" again. I couldn't stand it.

"Cecilia," he started. Oh, we were back to my full name again. That didn't bode well. "You know I'm fucked up as it is being a foster kid. Your sister just dumped me. I feel as if everything I've ever known is disappearing. I'm afraid that I can't be part of your family anymore since I'm not dating Miranda, which kills me almost more than losing her. I really don't want this to be just a rebound thing. I have way too much respect for you."

I nodded. Okay. At least he hadn't said he only wanted to be friends.

"But this attraction. Whatever's going on between us... We can't act on it. Not now. Not like this."

"Okay," I said, a little embarrassed now. I'd never made the first move like that before. And wasn't it working out wonderfully? I headed toward the stairs and began to climb. "Sure. You know, I'm pretty tired. I'm going to go to sleep now, I think."

"Cecilia... "

I turned on the stairs and watched his brown eyes fill with some emotion I couldn't quite name.

"I never said that I didn't like it."

I blinked. Oh.

Slowly, I turned and walked up the stairs to my empty bed.

~~~

"How do they feel?" Will said, looking up at me. He'd just finished lacing my skates for me and was now waiting to hear whether they were too loose or too tight or just right. My dirty mind was going off in all directions, but I managed to answer coherently enough.

"They seem fine. If they're too loose after I start, I'll just have to tighten them. I do know how to lace skates, you know."

"Yeah, but it's easier if someone else does it."

"Want me to do you?" I said, raising one eyebrow. I could see him imagining that scenario with me kneeling in front of him, basically at crotch level. His eyes kind of glazed over for a second. Then he shook his head.

"No, no. You go out, I'll join you in a minute. I've been skating my whole life. You're the one that hasn't done it in a long time." I could see him thinking about what he just said.

"Shit. I can't even talk anymore without... Oh, just go, okay, Cecilia. And stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?" I said.

"Like I'm dinner and you haven't eaten in a week."

"More like years," I said under my breath.

"You're not helping things with comments like that and sweaters like that and... " He gestured helplessly with his hands. "Look, can we just skate?"

Ah, so we were getting things out in the open. That was good. Sweaters like that? What was with my sweater? I looked down and could see my breasts clearly outlined with my cold nipples standing out like little soldiers at attention. Oops. I guess I should have worn the orange one, but I'd thought the blue went better with the rest of my outfit.

"Sure," I said. I'd brought the warmer orange sweater in case it was really cold. I pulled off the tight blue one and put on the other one instead. Will looked completely dazed by the time I was finished switching. God, I hadn't exposed myself, had I? There wasn't anyone here so early, but still...

"Will? You okay?" I said, concerned.

"Yes, I'm fine. Skate. Let's skate."

I lifted my eyebrows but said nothing. Touchy, were we, this morning? Maybe I wasn't the only one who hadn't been able to sleep for thinking about what we were not doing.

I stepped out on to the ice and forgot everything except how magical it was to glide along. It was almost like flying, with the cold air in my face. We were at the outdoor rink in the park, surrounded by big beautiful trees that provided wonderful shade for summer picnics, though right now they were bare. It was early, and no one else was had arrived yet, so we had the whole big rink to ourselves. Will did finally make it on to the ice, and we went around and around - sometimes talking sometimes not. It was amazing - like being a kid again.

"Celia?" He said into the silence, later when we sat drinking the hot chocolate from a thermos we'd brought.

"Yeah?" I said, taking another sip. The hot cup felt so good on my freezing fingers and the warm, rich chocolatiness of the drink slid down my throat and warmed my belly too.

"Thank you."

"Thank you?" I said, turning what he'd said into a question. "For what?"

"I've owed you this thank you for a long time," he said, looking into my eyes.

"What could I possibly have done for you that you would wait years to get a chance to thank me for it?" I said, genuinely puzzled and more than a little flustered by the way he was looking at me.

He didn't answer but asked another question instead.

"Do you remember one of our physics study sessions... " He trailed off here and went off on a tangent. "God, physics. I didn't usually do too badly in math and science, but physics, man, I swear nothing made sense in that course to me until you explained it."

"One of our study sessions... " I reminded him patiently. That was so Will. I remember having to get him back on track many times when we were trying to study. Tangents were his thing. I suppose he has the mind of an artist, that's why.

"There was this one time we got kicked out of the library. And it wasn't the messed-up foster kid that wasn't being quiet but the good girl from a good home."

"Oh my goodness, I was talking so loudly that the librarian came over and asked us to leave. I've never been so mortified in my life, ever. I never told anyone, I was so ashamed to have been kicked out of the library." I blushed even now, thinking of my transgression.

"Do you remember what you were so impassioned about that you wouldn't remember to keep your voice down in the library?" he said, a warm light in his eyes.

"No," I said. "Actually I don't. I remember the embarrassment of having to leave, but not what caused it."

"Well, I do. I remember it like it was yesterday because it's burned in my mind, and it's made me who I am today."

I studied his face. He was serious. Something I had shouted at him in a library years ago had made him who he is today? What in heaven's name had I said? As if in answer to my unvoiced question, he went on.

"We were working away and then we took a break and you casually asked me what schools I'd applied to for the following year. I said, "None," and you were shocked. I told you that I would probably get a job driving truck or shoveling dirt or something. You were absolutely outraged. I can't even begin to explain the look on your face. You said that I was too good for driving a truck, too talented for shoveling dirt. And that you'd be damned if you'd let me waste myself like that. I think it was you shouting swear words that finally drove the poor distracted librarian to kick us out. Then you grabbed my hands like this... " And he took my hands. "And you said, "Look at these hands. These are the hands of an artist, not a trucker. You think you're just a foster kid? Only good enough for truck driving or grave digging, well I will die before I'll allow you to waste your talent like that. You hear me, William Chapman? We are meeting tomorrow to fill out applications."

He smiled at me then and let go of my hands. I released the breath I'd been holding and grinned back at him.

"I was really pissed, wasn't I?" I said.

"You were," he said, grinning. "Celia, I mean it. Thank you. If you hadn't been so sure that I could make something of my life, I don't think I could have done it. Years later, when I'd get down because school was too hard or a song I was writing wasn't working out, I'd think of your words, and they would give me strength. 'Look at these hands,' I would say to myself. 'These are the hands of an artist.'" He held them up.

"Yes," I said. "They still are. Only more so."

CHAPTER SEVEN

The Dance

Will

I stared up at Cecilia, who stood up at the top of the stairs in her gown. I had to remind myself to shut my mouth, otherwise I would have stood there gaping like a teenage boy. These days that's what I feel like all the time. I'm horny as hell with her around sending those "Please take me, now" signals. I'm uncomfortable and awkward as an adolescent. One minute I'm in the clouds because she smiled at me. The next I'm down in the dumps because I remember it wouldn't be right to get into this right now. It was too soon. It was the wrong girl. It was the wrong time of year. I'm too messed up. What if I break her heart? What if she breaks mine? Etc., etc., etc.

She moved down the stairs with the grace of a queen, at least that's how it seemed to me. The dress was amazing. It was royal blue - some kind of shiny, silky sort of material - and it went down tight along her body, showing enough cleavage to make me groan internally. How was I going to get through the night without burying my face between her breasts? Okay, that was definitely the wrong question to be asking. The real question was how long would I be able to be strong in the face of the desire she was stirring in me and the powerful emotions that went along with it.

The skirt flared once it hit her curvy hips and went all the way to the ground. It was like a princess dress with long sleeves for winter. She had pulled her brown hair back into a smooth bun at the back of her head, into which she'd stuck some kind of tiny blue flowers. I swallowed.

"You look beautiful," I said, finally managing to find my voice.

"You clean up pretty good yourself," she said, and I knew that the color on her cheeks wasn't from blush since she didn't wear makeup. You would think that she would look dowdy maybe or plain, but she didn't. Her eyes sparkled. There was a spot of color on each cheek, and her skin was flawless. I remembered Miranda spending hours on her face - at least it seemed like it - and never looking as good as Cecilia did right now. There I went comparing them again. I really had to stop doing that, especially if I was going to... I stopped that train of thought, right in its tracks. If I was going to what? I thought I wasn't going to?

"Shall we?" she said just then, and I stumbled over nothing. If she said that later, I didn't know what my answer would be.

Oh fuck, was I in trouble.

~~~

The town Christmas party was a formal. Probably some tradition left over from the fifties or earlier maybe. You weren't allowed in unless you were dressed formally. No jeans or super short skirts. The mayor's office put the dance on, and they weren't letting in anyone who looked like riffraff.

From New York, I had brought my favorite black suit, with a black shirt and dark-blue tie. Dressed to the nines, I looked pretty good when I checked myself out in the mirror while I was waiting for Celia. My short, wavy brown hair was curling a bit from the shower I'd taken, and, well, I was a good-looking guy. Put me in a suit, and the women were usually swooning. Celia hadn't, but she was made from tougher stuff than most. I smiled at the thought as Cecilia handed our coats to the coat check girl and I paid the entrance fee - it was a fundraiser, of course, for the town's children in foster care. This party brought in enough money to buy them all Christmas gifts. It was one of the reasons I hadn't ducked out on it. I also made a large donation every year to help those kids go to college.

We walked into the hall from the foyer, and I was impressed as always. The plain old town hall had been transformed into a wonderland with decorations and little white lights strung everywhere. The beat-up old tables were covered with white tablecloths, and the wooden chairs had coverings on them. The lights were turned down, and the whole place was lit only with the strings of lights. I heard Cecilia gasp as we came through the door.

"Wow," she said. "This is amazing."

I smiled - feeling a sense of pride that I didn't deserve, not having helped with any of it - and took Celia's hand, leading her to our chairs. We made small talk for a while, and then the mayor welcomed everyone and invited a few tables at a time to line up at the buffet tables to fill our plates. Our table was one of the first ones called, and we were soon back and eating.

"You know, I wait all year for this supper," I said, as we tucked into the delicious food. "I really missed it last Christmas."

"Potluck is absolutely the best," Cecilia said, once she had swallowed her bite of creamy mashed potatoes. "You get all the best cooks in town to bring their best dishes. There's always lots and doesn't cost anyone too much time or money. Awesome. Did you try the baked beans? They're my cousin Maria's. To die for."

I tried the beans, and they were unbelievably good. Cecilia leaned in.

"I'm glad they put us at a table with my family, at least we don't have to make small talk with strangers."

The dinner was spent catching up with Cecilia's cousins and her aunt and uncle. They asked me about how my music was doing. It was pleasant. Around seven o'clock, once everyone had finished eating, the women from the Ladies Auxiliary cleaned up, and everyone helped to move all the tables to the sides to make room for the dancing. The first song came on - Kenny Loggins's "Footloose." Cecilia squealed.

"Come on, Will," she said tugging on my hand, impatient for me to push in my chair. So it was to be like that, was it? We danced and danced and danced some more. I had never had such a good time. Since Miranda had broken up with me I felt like the chains that had been holding me down were releasing one by one, allowing me to be myself again and enjoy life.

I'd been tiptoeing around her the whole time we were together, so afraid that she would leave me and I would lose everything. As I watched Celia dancing with her five-year-old cousin, Amelia, her skirts swirling, grinning from ear to ear, I realized something. It had taken losing Miranda in order for me to find... everything.

"Will," Cecilia said over the music. "Can we go get a drink and rest for a while? I am so not in shape for this."

I nodded, and we headed to the bar. I got us a couple drinks, and we went to sit at our table, where a different set of family was now hanging out.

"I'll be right back," I said into Celia's ear. "Just have to do something."

I had an idea.

Fifteen minutes later, the song came on. Celia had just been telling everyone how sore her feet were, since she wasn't used to high heels, but she jumped onto the aforementioned feet immediately when she heard it and was dragging me and whomever else she could reach onto the dance floor.

"It's my song! It's my song!" When she caught sight of my beaming face, she shook her finger at me.

"You, you requested it."

"Of course," I said, laughing and feeling happier than I had in years. "What's a town dance without "Cecilia"?"

We stomped to the pounding rhythm and whirled around. We were all dancing in a big circle - Cecilia's aunts and uncles and cousins. Somebody pushed Celia into the middle, and she whirled and spun, making her dress shine in the light. I almost lost my breath, she was so lovely. Then the song ended. She came over to me, winded and laughing. When I heard what the next song was, I knew that I needed to dance with her. I held out my hand. Her face got serious.

"A slow dance?" she said, studying my face - her chest still heaving a bit from the dancing. I tried to ignore her cleavage and focused on her eyes. She didn't wait a moment longer, but took my hand, and I pulled her in close. Her hands went around my neck, and I put mine on her hips as we began to sway to the piano. Randy Newman's voice came then crooning out the first words of "Feels Like Home." And I couldn't help it, I had to sing. I felt her surprise as her body tensed for a millisecond, then she relaxed.

You know how sometimes a song comes on the radio that exactly matches how you feel at that moment, and it seems like everything is perfect in those few minutes while you sing along? Well, this was one of those times. My heart was pounding, and I lost myself in the sweet song about how he finds a feeling of home when he's with his woman. I closed my eyes and sang like there was no one watching. Celia was gazing up at me, like she didn't quite believe what was happening.

That's when lightning struck - metaphorically speaking, I mean.

I suddenly realized that with Cecilia I always felt comfortable. With her arms around me right now I felt safe, like nothing could ever harm me and no matter what happened, we could face it together. At that moment, I knew I was lost. I was overcome by such a strong emotion that a single tear dropped from my eye onto her sleeve. I lifted my arm to brush it away, but before I could, Celia's hand came up and stopped me. She put my hand back on her hip and reached up with her own hand to wipe the moisture away. Then she cupped my cheek with her hand and her mouth crooked up in a funny little half smile. And that's when I knew I could be my true self, even my most unlikable self, and she wouldn't leave me.

And just like I'd always known I would, I recognized home when I felt it.

All I wanted from then on was to be alone with her. But the dance went on. Then they called me up to perform. It was an old tradition. Even before I was famous, people would call out for me to sing. I guess there was something about my voice even then that people liked. Tonight I didn't mind. I had the perfect song in mind: "When You Say Nothing at All." My favorite version was by Allison Krauss. I'd learned it a long time ago and had even considered covering it on one of my albums, but I hadn't done it yet.

They rolled the piano out, and I smiled at Cecilia as I sat down and adjusted the bench. When I tried a few chords, I was amazed that it was in tune. I had a sneaking suspicion that they only tuned it right before the Christmas party, just in case I could be induced to play.

As the first notes flowed off my fingers, the room got quiet, and I disappeared into the music. I was singing with my whole heart and soul laid bare for her - for Cecilia. I had nothing else to offer.

When I finished, the room was silent for a long moment. Then the applause started until the whole room was standing on their feet clapping and cheering. I blinked, coming back to where I was. I guess it was pretty good then. I wasn't sure at first - sometimes with silence it can be good, or sometimes very bad.

When it's good, the people are so taken by the song that when it's over they are still in awe. That's what I love about music, being able to take people to a place where they are so still inside that they don't even move or talk for a moment after it's over - still wrapped up in the incredible feelings that the song has evoked.

I thanked everyone. After this long being a performer, I'm pretty good at little speeches. Then I offered Cecilia my arm, and we walked out of the hall. There was murmuring as the lights went up and people started getting ready to go.

I helped Cecilia on with her coat and put on my own.

"Will, I haven't heard you sing in person for years. I mean, wow. That was unbelievably good. I just... Everyone was transfixed by your voice. You're the most talented guy I know. And that song, I've never heard it before. It was just so beautiful. You're amazing."

I took her mittened hand as we went out the door and into the dark snowy night. I was feeling scared and excited and more scared. I'd never felt like this before, but I knew that I couldn't deny it anymore. It simply would not be denied.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," I said, turning to look into her eyes. "Because I sang it for you."

CHAPTER EIGHT

No Turning Back

Cecilia

I almost tripped and fell down the stairs after his startling revelation. But I managed to stay on my feet, in spite of the whirlwind of feelings inside of me. What did he mean that he sang it for me? I mean, what else would he mean? But did he really mean it? That he felt that way about me? Had he suddenly realized that he had feelings for me? After all this time?

And what about "Feels Like Home"? That dance had been... Words cannot describe how it felt for me with Will's arms around me and his voice surrounding us. I could feel the song vibrating in his chest from where I had laid my head. This had been hands down the most romantic night of my entire life. The only thing was that I hoped I wasn't reading things wrong. Maybe we'd just had a great time as friends?

But no. Friends did not dance like that. At least, I'd never danced like that with any of my guy friends. A friendly dance wasn't that close. It wasn't that... intimate. God, please let me not be imagining all of this.

That's when I gave myself a good stern talking to. Cecilia, this could be the best night of your life. It's possible that it could never get any better than this. You may have to live off of this for years. Enjoy it. Just be here with Will. For once, there's nobody coming between you. He's holding your hand right now, not anybody else's. He said he sang that song for you. Why would he say that unless he meant it? Be here, right now. Please don't miss out on this moment, worrying about what the next moment might bring.

And for once I followed my own advice and got out of my head. We walked home in companionable silence. I always liked how in the L.M. Montgomery books she always said that if you could be comfortable in silence with a person, then that meant that you could be friends. Well, I guess Will and I had mastered the friends thing. But the question was whether it would become more.

No. No more questions tonight, Cecilia.

My whole body was alight. I felt like a living flame. And my Spidey senses were all at attention. I was aware of every movement. Of the smell of him and how the light from the street lamps glanced off his curls. I felt like running, singing, dancing, howling at the moon, but I managed to keep my ladylike demeanor.

Finally we got to my parents' front door. I got the key from my purse and tried three times with shaking hands before Will took the key from me and opened it on the first try. I smiled at him nervously as he opened the door and gestured for me to go in front of him. We got our coats and hats and mitts put away, and then we stood there looking at each other.

My breathing had sped up. I just looked at him. God, he was so handsome. He couldn't want me, could he? How could such a thing be possible that someone as wonderful as Will would be interested in a nobody like me? I shushed my thoughts as he took a step toward me. I swallowed feeling a little skittish now that what I had wanted for so long might actually be happening.

"Cecilia." And the way he said my name was like a symphony, a work of art, a prayer. He took my hands again, and heat rushed through me from the top of my head to the tips of my toes but centered mostly between my legs. He leaned in then, never breaking eye contact until we closed our eyes and our lips touched.

If I had thought the kiss yesterday was incendiary, this one was sure to burn the house down. It started out so soft - our lips barely touching. Then he pressed harder, and I opened my mouth, inviting him in. It deepened, and I wanted to devour him, to consume him somehow. All the years of yearning were in that kiss, and suddenly it was not enough, it was not nearly enough.

I pulled away. I had to know that this was not just some fling for him. He had said he respected me too much to make me his rebound relationship, but did he mean it? If we went any further and he rejected me then, I'd die. I just knew I would. It was bearable before because I hadn't known what it was like to be in his arms. Once I had that knowledge, not having him would be torture.

"Please, Will."

He looked at me, breathing hard.

"Please, don't tease me. I... I can't do this... I mean, I want... I mean... "

"What, Celia?" he said, reaching up to touch my face.

"I can't do this casually," I finally got out, hoping he would understand how I felt. I had done it casually before, but I hadn't known that it was only going to be a one-night stand. I'd had strong feelings for that guy. But it was nothing like this. Never mind, I was not going to think about that loser tonight.

Will searched my face, his hand dropping down to my waist and pulling me closer.

"I don't intend to do anything with you casually, Cecilia."

I held my breath.

"I've never felt anything like the kiss we just shared. If you don't want to do this, tell me now, and I'll go take the longest cold shower in history."

"No, no, please that's not what I meant," I said, suddenly desperate that he'd leave me like this - wanting him and unsatisfied. He laughed then and hugged me.

"Come on then, princess," he said. "Let's get you out of that dress."

We practically ran up the stairs to my room. No way was I going to do it in his room where he'd shagged my sister God knows how many times.

I am not thinking about Miranda tonight. Jesus. This was my night.

Once inside, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. This time I let all my desire come out. I wanted there to be no doubt in his mind that I wanted to do this. When we finally broke away, he looked dazed.

"Cecilia," he said then, his voice rough with lust. "Turn around."

I spun slowly until my back was to him. I felt his hand near my neck, then he delicately unzipped my dress all the way to my waist. The material fell away revealing my bare back. I wore no bra since the dress itself had support. I heard his sharp intake of breath when he realized that fact.

I reached to pull off the sleeves, but he put out a hand.

"Let me," he said, and I shivered as he came around to face me.

He took my hand then and gently guided the sleeve over it. He pulled until my arm was out, and I wrapped it around my torso to keep the dress from falling. He repeated his actions with the other arm until I was the only thing keeping the material up. He pulled my arms away then, making me let the dress go.

As it fell, the silk made a swooshing sound. My breasts were bare, and I stood there in my white cotton undies - I honestly hadn't thought anybody would be seeing them other than me. I had worn white stockings that ended at the thigh to keep me warm, but other than that I was naked, and I felt naked.

But then I glanced up at Will, and I forgot my nakedness. He was looking at me with such longing and hunger that I couldn't stand to be so far from him. In two steps I was next to him and pulling off his suit jacket while he began unbuttoning his black shirt. I took over from him, wanting to do it for him. Finally we got the damned thing off, and his body was before me. I ran my hands over his chest and abdomen. I enfolded him in my arms, moving my hands over his smooth back. I loved his muscles - not too bulky but so strong. I felt an ache start between my legs, and I wanted to be completely bare. I let go of him, and he made a noise of distress.

"I just have to... " I began wiggling out of the stockings. "Be... " I pulled them off and started on my panties. "Naked."

He drew a deep breath, and his eyes got wide when he took in my body, displayed for him with nothing covering me. I should have felt embarrassed maybe, but I didn't feel anything except that I wanted him naked too. I didn't want even a thin layer of clothing between us at his point. I wanted to be as close to him as humanly possible.

I moved toward him and reached for his belt. I struggled with it for a moment before it came apart. Slowly, I unzipped his pants where his erection was already bulging, waiting for me to free it.

"Let's just get this guy out of here," I said softly to myself as his pants fell to the floor and he stepped out of them. I went for his boxers and pulled them out and over his hard shaft, which was standing at attention. I bit my lip when I saw it and swallowed. It looked big, like it would fill me. My passion ratcheted up several notches as I took in his size.

"Celia." He put a finger under my chin and tipped my head up until I was looking him in the eyes. "I won't hurt... "

"I know," I said interrupting. I smiled at him. "I know. I'm not worried."

"Good, because you're killing me here, woman," he said, picking me up bodily and depositing me on the bed. Then he lay down beside me. I pressed myself against him, wanting to feel his skin against every inch of me. He groaned and sang a few bars from "Cecilia" before he kissed me senseless again. I put my leg up over his and felt his hardness on my thigh. After kissing for a long time, he left my mouth and began trailing kisses down my neck. When he came to the place where my neck met my shoulder, I gasped and felt my hips buck. He chuckled.

"I'll remember that spot," he said into my neck as he kissed it again and got the same reaction.

Continuing down, he arrived at long last at my breasts. When his lips closed over my nipple I moaned loudly. I couldn't help it. It felt so good, and a zap of electricity went straight to my most sensitive spot. He nipped and sucked. Then he switched to the other one, licking and sucking until I felt crazy.

That's when I felt his hand caressing my inner thighs.

Yes, please.

"Will," I said. Was that my voice so breathy and wanting?

I felt his hand between my legs, sliding up and down my softness, so wet with my juice. Then his finger found my nub, and he began circling it gently, oh so gently. My hips jerked, but he didn't stop. His mouth got busy again, finding my pink buds and teasing them into hardness.

I felt the waves of heat start to sweep over me and knew I was getting close. I gently pushed his hand away and took my turn. I wrapped my hand around his hot, firm flesh, pumping it up and down. God, he was so beautiful.

"I want you inside me, Will," I said.

"Wait," he said, grabbing his pants and pulling out a condom. I raised one eyebrow. "I was a good scout and learned my lesson well."

"Always be prepared?" I said.

"Always carry a condom, always."

"They taught you that in Boy Scouts?" I giggled.

He covered himself with it and put a hand on my chest, pushing me back onto the bed. He was on top of me then, his weight feeling so good pressing down on me.

"Please, Will, please," I begged as I felt his shaft at my warm damp entrance. He pushed in then a little, and I gasped. "Yes."

He was big. Well, I don't know if he was big by comparison, but I was tight and he was filling me completely. My mind was completely blown by the sensation. Thoughts fled my mind, and all I could do was feel.

He dipped his head and captured one of my tender peaks again. I moaned. He pushed a little more, and he was all the way in. He waited a while as I got accustomed to his size.

"Oh God, Will, please," I said, somewhat incoherently.

"Don't worry, Celia, I will," he said and began to move. I shuddered at the feeling as he pulled out and then thrust back in. Soon he had a rhythm going, and the waves of heat were washing over me. I felt the pressure start to build as he hit my G-spot again and again. Jesus, that felt good.

"Will, please, faster."

He sped up, and I shot over the edge, fireworks exploding behind my closed eyes. I moaned loudly and arched my back.

"Yes, oh yes."

The spasms rocked me several times before I felt them starting to recede. He was still pumping into me, and then I felt him stiffen.

"Celia," he cried out. Then he collapsed on top of me for a moment before he took his weight on his arms again and kissed me - long and deep and satisfied. I couldn't move. I felt sated and content.

I smiled with my eyes closed, loving that he was still inside me.

"You came prepared to ravish me tonight?" I said, opening my eyes to see his face.

He looked sheepish and so sweet.

"Well, based on your kiss yesterday, I figured I was the only thing standing in the way of us... doing it. So, I just thought that if I wasn't stopping us anymore then probably nothing would stop us. And we would, you know, need it."

He slowly pulled out then, and I whimpered a little at the loss and also at the sensation he was evoking in me again.

"Already?" he said, eyes wide.

"Well, maybe not quite yet," I said. "But I'm definitely not done with you, mister."

He grinned and settled in beside me comfortably. Soon he was asleep, and I watched him.

At that moment, I realized that I loved Will.

Not a crush. Not falling in love. I loved him. Body, mind, heart, soul - everything. He was exactly what I wanted. And yes, I knew that he came with baggage, but who doesn't? And yes, I knew he had flaws, but who doesn't? I certainly hoped he'd love me in spite of mine.

Love.

It scared me. I had thought I loved him before, but that was a mere shadow of what it felt like with him right here with me - in my arms, making love to me. I felt like pulling back, protecting my heart from being hurt. But I knew I couldn't do that. I couldn't pull back now. I'd given myself to him completely. And if he rejected me then I knew that it would destroy me. But if he didn't... If this wonderful thing lasted... Then I knew that I would have found as close to heaven as was possible for me on Earth.

I loved Will, and there was no turning back.

CHAPTER NINE

The Return

Will

I woke up with Cecilia in my arms, and it felt like I'd died and gone to heaven. I almost pinched myself, but I thought that would be too much of a cliché. We'd made love again in the middle of the night, slowly, without the light on. I'd kissed every inch of her body, and I felt myself go hard again at the thought.

Celia stirred then and smiled without opening her eyes.

I wished at that moment that I could wake up like this every day for the rest of my life.

Whoa, slow down, Will, I thought. You just broke up with her sister two days ago. How can you already be thinking about forever?

But I had to face reality... I was thinking about forever, and it made me smile.

When I'd thought about being with Miranda forever, the only feeling that had come up had been resignation and a little fear. I had been so afraid that the way it was with her was the only way it could be.

But Cecilia had shown me differently. Oh, I knew that the glow would fade and we probably wouldn't make love twice in a night anymore - although who knew? Maybe we would. But still, the thought of coming back to her at the end of a day in the studio, or exploring new places with her, or just sitting and reading side by side on the couch with her \- it all sounded good to me.

I leaned over her and pressed a kiss on her lips.

"Mmm. Give me a minute," she said getting up. I watched her sweet naked ass disappear out the door. I heard her a moment later in the bathroom, the water was running. I got up and waited outside the bathroom door. When she came out, she smacked my bare butt as she went past. I took my turn, going pee and brushing my teeth. When I got back, I couldn't see her, she was so tucked into the covers.

"C'mon, Will," she poked her hand out and crooked her finger at me. What could I do? I joined her in the bed.

"I know you're ready," she whispered in my ear. "Can I be on top?"

Oh dear God. She already had the condom ready.

She climbed over me. And when I slid my fingers into her soft flesh it was so slippery I groaned, my erection getting even harder. She smiled seductively and lifted herself until her petal-soft folds were poised at the tip of my rod. Then I felt her drop down so that I was barely entering. Inch by inch she took me into her. I could tell that my swollen shaft was stretching her and my breath grew short. I needed to thrust.

"Uh, uh," she shook her head as I lifted my hips. "This one's mine."

"I don't know if I can stand it, Cecilia," I said, panting.

"You're going to have to," she said, continuing to slide down until our bodies were joined. Her hot wet sheath was so tight that I felt like coming right then. I held back and controlled myself, though. No way was I going to come before her. I wasn't a teenager anymore.

She stayed there for a moment, her eyes closed, and I thought she looked like a beautiful angel, though with what we were doing, maybe angel wasn't the right word. Like a goddess, perhaps. Yeah, that fit.

Then she moved, and all thought fled my mind. She began slow and steady, her eyes still closed. The slick heat of her as she moved up and down on me was driving me mad. Having to hold back and not thrust was cranking my arousal up to previously unknown heights. I watched her, transfixed by the sight of her breasts swinging above me. I needed to touch them and I reached out, taking one heavy globe in each hand. Cupping and squeezing them gave me some outlet for the sweet agony of holding back as Cecilia writhed above me.

"Will. Oh God, yes," she said, taking the pace up a notch. I saw a sweat break out all over her, and her cheeks grew flushed. I could feel my orgasm rising too, but still I waited for hers.

By the end, she was riding me hard. Her climax seemed to surprise her and she cried out over and over in ecstasy. The clenching of her sex around me and her soft breasts in my hands made me wild, and I couldn't hold off anymore. I drove into her five or six times, and then I was coming deep inside her. She slumped on me, her sweaty forehead on my shoulder - breathing fast. I reached up and smoothed her hair back away from her face. She smiled then with her eyes closed. I loved it when she did that.

That's when I realized that I loved her. Period. And I didn't know what to do about it.

~~~

That afternoon, following a quickie in the kitchen, we were sitting at the dining room table eating cinnamon raisin bagels with butter and drinking eggnog.

"So, that's when he says... " Cecilia was in the middle of telling me a funny story when we heard the door shut. She interrupted her story and hopped to her feet. "They're back."

"Maybe we shouldn't tell them everything that's happened right away," I said, praying that she wouldn't take it the wrong way. I just really, really didn't want to spoil Christmas.

"I know, you don't want to spoil Christmas," she said, already heading to the front door.

"But how... "

"I know you, Will," she said looking back over her shoulder.

The woman was uncanny, that's what she was. How could she know me so well? It's like she had X-ray vision and could see straight into my soul. I followed her out to the entrance. She was hugging her mom.

"I know you were hoping that we'd all be together this Christmas, Mom, but I'm sure we can make it a good one anyway. At least I'm here... " she trailed off as her dad entered, followed by Miranda.

Celia froze. I felt like a statue as well.

"No need to worry, Ceci," her mother said. "We convinced Miranda to come back and give Will another chance. It's all going to be fine, won't it, Will?"

Cecilia turned toward me, and when she saw the look on my face, her own face turned to stone. Shit. She already knew what I was going to do.

I managed to form my lips up into something that resembled a smile, and Miranda's face, which had been apprehensive, lit up, and she hugged me. Mrs. Ryan beamed, and Mr. Ryan looked from me to Cecilia like he was confused or maybe disappointed. I didn't understand what that was all about.

I tried to hug Miranda back and say something, but it seemed like there was a lump stuck in my throat. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I had just betrayed the woman I loved.

~~~

An hour later, Mrs. Ryan had us all assigned to different jobs. She and Cecilia and I were in the kitchen, baking cookies. It was one of the last jobs left. She'd been very pleased with what we'd done while she was gone. Mrs. Ryan was manning the oven. Cecilia was mixing the dough, and I was decorating the finished cookies.

"Well, Will, aren't you glad that Miranda's back?" She didn't wait for me to answer. "When we left, Dad was all against it and saying that I was meddling and whatnot... "

Cecilia put the wooden spoon down pretty hard on the counter, and I glanced over at her. She was not looking at me, but I could see fury etched in every line of her face. I was such a coward. But I just couldn't bring myself to go up against Mrs. Ryan. She was a force to be reckoned with. Look at how she had changed Miranda's mind. Her "never, ever" had seemed pretty finite, and here she was, back, cooing at me and calling me darling. Okay, she hadn't actually cooed or called me darling, but just about. It almost made me sick. I'm not a good liar, and I'd barely made it through the past hour. Thank God Celia's mother didn't need anyone to actually respond to her prattling.

"... But I told him that I was just looking out for the well-being of the young people."

Cecilia was beating eggs viciously, which apparently her mother picked up on.

"Ceci, don't beat those eggs so hard. Lord, those cookies will never turn out. Maybe I should mix the batter."

"I'm fine, Mother," Cecilia said through clenched teeth. I thought it was probably better she wasn't near anything where high temperatures were involved and applauded Mrs. Ryan's decision to let her daughter continue to make the cookie dough.

"All right, dear, you know, it isn't good to clench your teeth. It will wreck your jaws, sweetie. Now where was I... ?"

I took the piping bag and made swirls on all the shortbread cookies.

"Our well-being," I said, reminding her. Celia gave me a glance that really ought to have turned me to stone as her mother continued her monologue.

"Oh yes, I told him it was just for your well-being, and he would go on and on about respecting Miranda's decision, but look how wonderfully it's all turned out with you back together and we're all going to have Christmas together after all. Miranda couldn't stop telling me that she really hadn't wanted to leave you, Cecilia, right at Christmas time when she'd only just got a little visiting in."

Cecilia was beating the flour into the wet mixture now, and let's just say she wasn't being as careful as usual. I finished the last cookie and excused myself before I ended up with a bowl of cookie dough on my head. Mrs. Ryan said to come back if I was looking for another job. But I wasn't looking for another job when I headed out of the kitchen. I was looking for Mr. Ryan.

~~~

I found him in the garage. He'd built a fire and was sitting on a stool next to his workbench, drinking a beer, his winter coat unbuttoned since it was starting to warm up.

"Will," he said by way of a greeting.

I nodded and took the beer he offered me. I surely needed it. I mean, to say I was conflicted was an extreme understatement. I needed someone to tell me what to do. He was the closest thing to a father that I had and even if the advice was bad, I needed some desperately. I got right to the point.

"Mr. Ryan, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, Will. What is it?"

I took a deep breath.

"How did you know that Mrs. Ryan was the right woman for you?"

"Maybe that's the wrong question," he said.

"What would the right question be?" I said.

"Why did I marry Gianna?"

"Okay, why did you marry Gianna?"

"For love," he said, his eyes lighting up. I smiled. Okay. He could tell me, then, what I should do.

"So, if you married her because you loved her, how did you know you loved her? That she was the right one? That you wanted to be with her for the rest of your life?"

"It's like those clichés in romantic comedies when they say, 'You just know.'"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. You just know," he said, tipping his head back to take a long pull on his beer and then meeting my eyes again.

"That's your answer?"

"Look, Son, I know you're not sure what to do. No one can tell you. You know who you want."

"It's just that it's complicated."

"It's not complicated. It's easy. You choose the woman you can't do without. The one that when you imagine your future, there is no future unless she's in it. You think you're confused, boy, but you're not. You've been a long time waking up, but I knew you would."

"You knew I would... ?"

"I could see it in your eyes the first time you visited our house. Then you got all tangled up with Miranda because she's like that. But I knew you'd find your way back. When Gianna suggested we go to New York, I jumped on the idea, knowing it would give you your chance."

"But I thought you didn't think it was a good idea." I was flabbergasted by what he was revealing.

"It wasn't a good idea if I was going for the reason that Gianna wanted me to. But it was a very good idea if I was going for the reason that I wanted to."

"You knew? Before we did?"

"Oh, you two have always known. You're just late bloomers, let's say."

"But she didn't... Not since we met... She couldn't have."

"Oh, Will. She could have. And she did."

"Not all this time."

"All this time."

I felt like crying.

"That's why she knew what the weather was supposed to be like in New York. And even though she was one of the first people to join my list, she pretended not to know about my career."

"She knows, Son. She knows everything."

"But Mr. Ryan, everything's a mess. I... I don't want to spoil Christmas. I don't want... " I looked away. I was not going to cry. I would not cry into my beer like in that cheesy country song.

"Will, Will, Will," he said, and put his hand on my shoulder. "You can't lose us. Is that clear? Even if both of my daughters were to be idiots and kick you out of their lives, Mrs. Ryan and I still need you. You're our son now. Who am I going to drink beer with in the garage? Not my girls, that's for sure. There's always been too much estrogen in this house. You were like a breath of fresh air. You will always be a part of this family, you hear me? You can't get rid of us that easily."

We hugged, and my heart felt like it might burst. I smiled for the first time since they'd got back. He got us two more beers, and we drank in silence.

His little speech really meant something to me. I felt some of the anxiety leave that had trailed me since I was a little kid. If I really belonged here, then they wouldn't kick me out if I screwed up. And if what I'd done with his daughters wasn't considered screwing up, I don't know what would be. Still, he had told me he was on my side from the start. That he'd seen our love before we had. That he'd taken his wife away to give me the chance to make it right with Cecilia.

"So, to summarize. You think I should marry for love... " He nodded. "And that I'll just know. Or that I already know who I love... " He nodded again. "And you won't kick me out of the family, no matter which girl I choose or if I choose neither of them?"

He clapped me on the shoulder.

"Now you've got it. Let's go see if dinner's ready. I have a feeling it'll be a doozy."

He guffawed all the way into the house. But I wasn't laughing.

I was deciding.

CHAPTER TEN

The Dinner

Cecilia

I stormed into my room and nearly slammed the door. Then I sat on the bed and punched the pillow over and over. The rage I felt had no bounds, and I didn't know what I'd do if I saw any of them - especially Miranda. I hated her. I hated her so much. And I felt sick to my stomach that I could have such emotions toward my only sibling, my parents, and the guy I loved.

I curled up on the bed then and cried bitterly. I would have sobbed, but somebody might have heard me and come in, so my body shook and the tears poured down my face but not a sound emerged. After a while, I was all cried out. I grabbed a towel and headed for the shower; when I felt crappy, a long hot shower always made me feel better.

I tore my clothes off once I was in the bathroom and turned on the shower as hot as I could stand. I was a bit sore, and it made me even angrier to think of what we'd shared and how I'd actually believed that he cared about me. And yet he just went along with my mother's meddling. Did he even care for me at all? Maybe he wasn't the man that I thought he was. Maybe he was just like the other guy, taking advantage of my loneliness.

No, no. He wouldn't do this to me, would he? It was all a mistake. Just a big, huge mistake. The tears poured down my cheeks again, being washed away by the hot water. Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I hated Will for betraying me. I hated Miranda for just being so much better than me. I hated my mother for meddling in our business and my father for going along with it.

I honestly didn't think I could sit down to dinner tonight with all of them without screaming at them all. I truly didn't know if I could do it. I had to calm down. I took deep breaths and got out of the shower. Wrapping a towel around myself, I made a beeline for my room, hoping that no one would see me. I would probably freak on the next person I happened onto, so I was trying to keep to myself.

I shut my door and went to the mirror. I looked terrible. I was red as a lobster from the shower. My eyes were also red from crying. And my eyes... When I looked at my eyes in the mirror, they held such despair and desperation that I hardly recognized myself.

Why had I come here? How had I ended up in this position? I could have stayed home with my turkey salad and new book. Home. But I knew now that the only place I'd ever find home would be with Will.

And he didn't love me.

I'd thought he might. But with this turn of events, he couldn't possibly. I mean, you don't get back together with the sister of the woman you love. That's not what you do when you love someone, right? It was pretty clear that he didn't love me. The tears began trickling down my cheeks again. I had to get myself under control. I had to calm down. I had to be able to sit at a table and eat with them all in a couple of hours.

Impossible.

Totally impossible.

Two minutes later, Miranda walked in. She didn't look shocked to see the state I was in, which would have surprised me if I hadn't been so upset.

I sat in my bathrobe, on my bed, my back against the wall, my knees drawn up to my chest. I said nothing, just stared daggers at her.

She ignored me and flounced on to the bed, like it was still middle school and we were going to talk about boys.

Without any preamble, she began.

"First, we need to deal with your white-hot hatred for me," she said. I just stared, eyes empty. "So, look, I didn't come here to get back together with Will."

"What?" Her words startled me out of my anger. "If you didn't, then why... How? But you... "

"Allow me to explain," she said, raising her eyebrows in a question. I nodded, dropping my knees so that I sat in a cross-legged position. "Okay, Cecilia, it's time to come clean. Dad said I should, that I would feel better. I don't know if it will help with the guilt I've felt all these years, but at least you'll know and can kill me for a good reason, instead of a bogus one."

"Just get on with it, Miranda. What the hell are you talking about?" I said, feeling ready to snap.

"I don't want Will anymore, but I did in high school, and I might have kind of stolen him out from under your nose."

"Stolen him?"

"Well, he did like you first."

"What are you talking about?" My fury was back. Had everyone been fucking with me my whole life? That's why I'd left this Godforsaken family. Why had I ever come back? I was just a glutton for punishment.

"Oh, God, Ceci. Don't tell me you didn't know. He was falling all over you. Given a little more time, you would have got together. That was a given."

"It was not. We were just friends. It was you he wanted all along."

"No, like any healthy teenage boy, he wanted sex. I'm not saying that Will's shallow because he's not. But well, I might have told him some things that weren't true and then distracted him. Plus he wanted to be part of a family so badly."

"Explain," I said. I must have looked really angry because I'd never seen my sister look scared of me before.

"Okay, okay. Do whatever you want to me, just don't kill me, all right? I know I said you could before, but I've since changed my mind. Look, I was a stupid kid. I kind of told him that you'd said to me that you didn't have feelings for him and that you only liked him as a friend. Then I might have seduced him as soon as was reasonably possible so that he would be so distracted by having sex with me that he wouldn't notice that you were pining for him... and that he was pining for you. I lied to him, Ceese. And I stole him from you. And it was the most terrible thing I've ever done in my life."

She paused, but I could tell she wasn't done so I didn't say anything but only waited.

"Then once I had him, I realized that he was, like, the sweetest guy ever. Except that that annoyed me. And then there was the fact that you were mooning after him, constantly, which just made me feel guiltier. It wasn't so bad when we were in New York. I could pretend I'd got him the good, old-fashioned way: by him actually caring about me. And he was the best boyfriend ever, except that he didn't love me, and I didn't love him, and by then we were trapped in this relationship and life that neither of us wanted. And I'd trapped us there."

"You didn't love him?"

"And he didn't love me, not ever, Cecilia. He never got over you. I always thought he would. I always thought I'd learn to care for him. But I never did. And then it just got worse and worse this year. Especially once he wrote that album that was all about you."

"What?"

"The one called Her. Who do you think he's talking about? Listen to the songs again, and you'll see yourself in every single one. It sure as hell wasn't me in the songs, and we both knew it. I was going to break up with him at that point, but then the tickets fell through and Mom called and invited us for Christmas and I knew how much Will loves Christmas here. He hated it in the Bahamas. I've never spent a worse Christmas than last year. He just wanted to be back here. You know how he is."

She stopped and took a deep breath.

"So when we arrived here, I knew I couldn't do this. Seeing you two together after all this time and knowing that I'd kept you apart just made me sick to my stomach. It didn't help that you both only had eyes for each other."

"We didn't."

"You certainly did."

I shrugged and let her continue.

"So, finally after all this time, I did the right thing and broke up with him. Then I left and said exactly the things that I knew would get Mom to come after me."

"You wanted Mom to follow you?"

"Duh, if she came after me, then Dad would have to drive her because she won't fly and that would leave you and Will together in the house for a couple days, hopefully getting all cozy. Dad and I were just praying that you'd get together. We stayed away as long as we could. And by the way you've been crying your eyes out all this time, I'm assuming that you did get together? Tell me you did. He didn't do something stupid, did he?"

I was crying again. The pain was just too much to keep inside.

"Are you still mad at me, Ceci? I'm so sorry. You don't know how I wish I could take back the past six years. Please forgive me," she said, her eyes bright with tears too.

"I forgive you, Mira." And I did. I loved my sister. She had never paid attention to me properly but I loved her. There was no use being angry about something that was in the past. I focused on the most important part of her story. "But is what you said true? About him really caring about me first in the beginning?"

Miranda's startling story had washed the rage right out of me.

"First, last, and always, sweetie. He never loved me," she said, putting her arms around me and hugging me tight. "And we're never going to be apart for so long ever again, because I've missed you, little Sister."

I sat back then.

"I thought he'd chosen you, Miranda. If you believe that he's always loved me and he loves me still, then why would he do that?"

"Oh, sweetie, he's just human. Would you have gone up against Mother?"

I was silent. I'd let him choose her. After what we'd shared, I had been a coward too. I hadn't gone up against Mother and her meddling. I realized then that I could have. I could have said right away that we were together and that Miranda was too late to get back together with him. I could have, but I hadn't. And here I was blaming him for everything that had happened.

Miranda watched me, and when she saw that I'd seen my part in it all, she clapped her hand on mine.

"Let's get you cleaned up and dressed up and really show Will what he's missing if he doesn't step up and fight for you."

"But shouldn't you tell him that you don't really want to get back together with him?"

"I don't think that'll be necessary, Cecilia. He loves you too much to let you get away again. You wait and see."

She walked over to my backpack and pulled out all my clothes.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. So many clothes and absolutely nothing to wear. We'll fix that. I brought something that'll be perfect."

~~~

When I walked into the dining room that night, Will's jaw dropped. And I mean that literally, his mouth came open and everything. I was wearing a short black dress that ended just above the knee with chunky black heels. Miranda's dress clung to me and had thin spaghetti straps across my shoulders. My hair was braided and coiled on the back of my head very elegantly, if I do say so myself. I felt and looked like someone not to be trifled with.

I smiled coldly at Will. In spite of what my sister had told me, he'd still made me think that he didn't love me, and I was angry about that. My father beamed - the sucker. I narrowed my eyes at him for his duplicity, but all he did was wink back. When my mother saw us come in, she went over and gathered us both in a big hug.

"My two girls. I'm so glad that everything has worked out the way it's supposed to, thanks to me," she said. "Come now everyone, let's eat. Sit. Sit."

So we all sat down. My sister had the nerve to switch places with Will so that he was sitting across from me. The first course or two was fine with everyone making small talk and being polite. But then my mother went and put her foot in it.

"So. Will, Miranda, when will you be going home?"

I glanced at Miranda; she gave me a look that said, "Watch and see. He won't let this pass."

"Actually, Mrs. Ryan," Will said, pushing back his chair and standing up. "I am home."

Mom looked confused, and for the first time today seemed to sense that things were not actually going the way that she had intended them to.

"Of course, Will," she said smiling warmly at him. "You are always to consider our home, your home. What I meant was, when will the two of you be going back to New York."

"Well, you'll have to ask Miranda when she's going because I have no idea. We're not together anymore."

My mother put her hand to her chest and gasped.

"What do you mean you're not together? Mr. Ryan and I drove all the way to get her so that you could get back together."

"I'm sure everyone appreciates your effort, Mrs. Ryan," he said. Everyone heard the sarcasm and at the same time true appreciation in his tone, except Mother of course, who was still in her world of sunshine and unicorns. "But Miranda and I, we haven't been together for a long time. Maybe we never were." He smiled at her then - a sad smile.

She smiled back, then tilted her head in my direction and mouthed to him, "Get on with it."

Mother had her mouth open and was gasping like a fish out of water.

"But... But... "

My father put his hand on her arm.

"Let the boy speak, Gianna. He's got something to say."

She turned toward my father, grumpy, but when she saw the look on his face, she stopped short and frowned, turning back toward Will expectantly.

Will gave my dad a brilliant smile and then turned back to face me. He seemed serious, and my heart sped up. What would he say?

"Cecilia... " He paused and looked at his feet, then up at the ceiling, and finally straight at me. "I have been the biggest fool ever. I have wasted years. Years that we could have spent together."

I drew in my breath sharply.

"I got distracted by your sister, and then even when they gave us the opportunity to get together, I still hesitated. But I want you to know that from now on, there is to be no more confusion. There will be no more wondering how I feel about you."

"Will," I said, my eyes taking in everyone. Maybe this wasn't the time or place for this? But there was no stopping him.

"No, Cecilia. You're just going to listen now until I'm done."

He turned, then, to my parents.

"Mr. and Mrs. Ryan, you have no idea how much I appreciate being a part of your family. When Miranda broke up with me, I had this horrible sinking feeling that not only was I going to lose her but I was also going to lose all of this." He gestured to the house, the decorations, us. "And I couldn't stand the thought. I couldn't stand it. You're the only family I have. And I thought that if I just went along with things and didn't make any waves, maybe you wouldn't get rid of me - like my other families did."

"Oh, Will," my mother said with tears in her eyes. "We wouldn't ever... "

Dad put a hand on her arm again to quiet her, as Will moved back to face me again.

"And it's not an excuse, Cecilia, I only hope that it will help you understand why I did some of things I did. Especially why I stayed with Miranda, long after I knew that I should break up with her because I didn't care about her the way a man ought to care about a woman. You showed me how it's supposed to be. Because you're the one. The only one for me. The woman that when I think about the future, there is no future unless you're in it." He glanced at my father, who gave him a half smile.

There was this amazing, joyful feeling bubbling up inside of me, and it was such a relief after the pain of the last few hours, the last six years.

"If you can ever find a way to forgive me, Cecilia, I'd like another chance to show you how much I... how much... I love you," he said, biting his lip and looking at me with worry in his eyes. As if he wasn't sure what I would say.

I blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall. I'd cried enough today. I wasn't going to cry when I was finally getting what I'd wanted for so long.

"Of course I forgive you, Will." Are we really doing this in front of my family? I guess we were. So I said it. "I love you too. I've always loved you."

He took a big breath and let it out loudly.

"Thank God," he said, coming around the table and kissing me soundly.

They all clapped like this was some cheesy romcom. In a way, I guess it was \- my own personal love story.

"Okay, everybody settle down, settle down," Will said, more relaxed, happy, and himself than I'd ever seen him. Before, he would never have got everyone's attention on purpose. I hoped that this was the beginning of him really feeling like he belonged here. "I have one more thing to ask Cecilia."

My mother's eyes got wide.

"Cecilia... " I waited, wondering what he was going to say. He wasn't asking me to... No, of course not... "Will you go on a date with me?"

The room erupted in laughter.

That's when I realized that home is less a place and more a feeling that you get when you feel completely accepted and loved.

"Well?" Miranda said. "Answer the man."

"Yes, William," I said formally, "I would absolutely love to go on a date with you."

He grabbed me in his arms and squeezed me till I could hardly breathe, while Miranda filled Mom in on what had really been going on with the whole trip to New York.

"Celia, my Celia," he whispered into my hair. "I finally have a family."

I pulled away a little, to catch my breath, and smiled up at him.

"Yes, my love, you finally do."

Epilogue

Skating

Cecilia

"Will, come on. It's time to go now. I'm hungry, and we've been skating for an hour and a half," I said, heading for the bench. We were skating on the outdoor rink in the park near my apartment.

"Aw, please, Celia, just five more minutes?"

"You sound like a little kid. I'm going to take my skates off. My toes are frozen."

"Okay, one more time around, and then I'm coming."

We held hands as we walked back through the park. Twilight was descending, and it reminded me of walking home from high school the Christmas I had met Will. I would sing "Winter Wonderland" - and dream of him.

"What are you humming?" he said.

"'Winter Wonderland,'" I said. "I used to sing it in high school and think of you."

He began singing in his wonderful baritone, and I joined in. I'm no professional singer, but I can carry a tune. I used to sing in choir - with Will, I might add - in high school.

When we finished, I turned and kissed him. And with the snow falling all around us in the dusky light, it was so romantic. And then it was passionate. And then it was getting inappropriate when his hand started to creep up under my coat.

"Let's go home," I said, tugging at him.

"You read my mind, Cecilia," he said with a glint in his eye.

~~~

I fell back onto the covers, eyes closed, a big smile on my face. Will collapsed beside me, breathing hard.

"I love it when you do that," he said, trying to catch his breath.

"What?" I said, feeling almost too lazy to talk.

"Smile like the Mona Lisa after an amazing orgasm. In fact, that's my scorecard. I can always tell if you've had a good one by whether that smile is there or not."

"Mmmm," I answered, starting to drift off. I was so tired after all that skating - and the enormous sense of relaxation that was coming over me wasn't helping keep me awake either. He turned me on my side and curled himself against my back. I wriggled closer to him as he pulled the covers over us and put his arm around me.

"Love you, Celia," he whispered.

"Mmmm."

Feeling safe and warm, I fell asleep.

When I woke up, Will wasn't there. I got up and peeked out the bedroom door. My apartment had certainly got a makeover when Will moved in here with me. There were still the three bookshelves, plus one more. The couch had been replaced by a complete living room set. And the single futon had been swapped out, and a double futon lay in its place. We had gone all out on the holiday decorating, just because it was our first Christmas living together. We had even got a tree. Though we would be at Mom and Dad's for Christmas morning, Will had said that it didn't look Christmasy enough without a tree.

I could hear him moving around the kitchen and singing, so I hopped in the shower and got dressed, then headed out to see what he was up to. He was washing some dishes at the sink, and I tiptoed up behind him and put my arms around him, kissing his back.

"I love it when you do that, too," he said. I grinned.

"What are you doing?" I said, moving beside him.

"I've made us supper."

"Oooh, good. I'm starving. But you're up to something else, so don't try and hide it," I said, sensing his excitement. I turned and leaned against the counter. What was he up to?

"You'll just have to wait and see."

"No, William. Don't make me wait. Tell me now. What's the surprise?"

"Okay, okay," he said, holding up his hands in surrender. "The pizza's still cooking so we can get started on the other thing."

"I thought we already did the other thing," I said and laughed. "And I'm not excited about supper after all. You do remember that I own a pizza joint? I'm all pizza'd out."

"You'll like this one, trust me."

I bounced up and down. Then I stopped because the thought occurred to me - what if it wasn't a good surprise after all?

I never used to like surprises. Still, this was Will, and he seemed happy about it, so maybe I would be too.

"Don't worry, Miss Celia, it's a good surprise. I'm 99 percent sure that you'll like it."

"Only 99 percent?"

"That's just a reasonable amount of caution. I'm leaving 1 percent for a completely unexpected reaction. But I hope you like it, otherwise you'll break my heart."

I tilted my head to the side.

"I promise not to break your heart."

"Yes, well, remember you promised."

He went over to the dock that connected to the speakers and plugged his phone into it. He fiddled around until the sound of a piano emerged. I recognized it immediately. It was "Feels Like Home" - our song.

He turned around and held out his hand. He was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt and looked so sexy and at the same time adorable that my heart swelled. God, I loved this man. I took his hand, and we danced. It felt so good. I was in heaven when he started to sing along. I am so lucky to be with someone who serenades me.

I listened to the words he was singing, telling me how lonely he'd been without me and how he'd finally found a place where he belonged with me. I swallowed and tried not to cry.

He kept singing and lifted my chin. Carefully he wiped my tears away, then kissed me gently during a piano part. By the time he was done with me, I was a puddle in his arms. He led me over to the kitchen and sat me down on one of the chairs, leaving me there.

I wiped my tears away. I was so happy. So much had changed since last Christmas. It had been a wonderful year - not without its ups and downs - but we had got through them. And we would continue to get through the harder times so that we could get to times like these.

He returned with the pizza and set it on the tile we kept in the middle of the table. I ignored it and looked up at him.

"You really made me pizza," I said, an unimpressed look on my face. "Great."

He sighed.

"Just look at it, Celia," he said, turning me.

And there it was. On the pizza. He'd shaken red paprika over the cheese, just like we did at Cecilia's, except that he'd painstakingly shaken it into four words: Will u marry me.

I put my hand over my mouth. Oh my God. We'd talked about getting married, but I hadn't thought it would be any time soon.

"Cecilia," he said. "When I'm with you, I'm home. You know how long I've searched for that."

I gazed into his eyes, not quite believing that this was really happening.

"Yeah, I do, Will."

"So, can we make it permanent? Can we be home for each other? For always?"

He looked at me, with a 1 percent worried look in his eyes. I smiled and hugged him.

"Yes, yes, yes, of course, yes, you silly man. One percent my ass."

He didn't say anything then, just kissed me breathless.

And I knew that we were both finally home.

Bonus

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About the Author

Roberta Ann Roque is the pen name that Bobbi writes under.

By day Bobbi Roque Hornik is a mild-mannered school teacher and mother of four, by night an ill-mannered author and crafter of words, scribbling furiously at her desk and not saying please and thank you. Okay, okay, she types at a Macbook Pro and she's Canadian, so she's genetically predisposed to always say please and thank you, but you get the idea.

Since her grade two teacher told her she overused the word 'nice', she has always had a secret hankering to write books using words like passionate, vertigo, blitz, and drat.

She lives on a beautiful lake in Northern Canada and asks only to tap away at her keyboard, drink a green smoothie every morning, and spend time with her family. She has been known to eat dandelion, "Yes, they're edible! Maybe not palatable...but you can eat them." And is often seen reading books on her smart phone or even sometimes on paper! (Gasp.)

She loves writing stories and being with her family. And she hopes you have enjoyed this book!

Check out the other titles in the Feels Like Romance series!

The romance continues with the other four titles in the Feels Like Romances series.

Feels Like Forever: Feels Like Romance Novella #2 (Miranda and Jake's Story)

Feels Like Love: Feels Like Romance Novella #3 (Laila and Mark's Story)

Feels Like Sunshine: Feels Like Romance Novella #4 (Maggie and Kiran's story)

Feels Like Desire: Feels Like Romance Novella #5 (Jessica and Nick's Story)

 Feels Like Romance Collection: 5 Novella Bundle

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