After a mere ten minutes spent pretend-shopping for a tree, Noah's dream of ticking off every item on our bucket list lost out to another one.

Breakfast.

In the blink of an eye, I'd lost all three of my friends to the food trucks being set up in between the craft market and the petting zoo. I'd barely finished shouting out my coffee order before they'd retreated from the sea of evergreens and towards the red barn. And, then, it was me doing most of the pretend-shopping. 

Not that I was really complaining about it. The entire ranch and its rows of pines and firs screamed 'Hallmark movie', and after my fair share of Christmas' on the coast, I firmly believed that I was overdue for the Hallmark experience.

I was rather enjoying having some time to myself, anyway. Time to wander silently through the trees, to get lost in the wintry atmosphere, to bask in the smell of peppermint that wafted over from the hot cocoa stall. It was nice to indulge in some alone-time after having so little of it over the last couple of days.

It was nice, at least, until a sudden yelp from the hayride claimed every ounce of my attention.

The branches of a fir cradled me like a shield as I watched the resulting exchange from across the way. A young boy with round, rosy cheeks and glasses bigger than his face had tripped on the last step down from the wagon, then stumbled onto the thick grass below. I would have gone over to see if he was okay, of course, if several other guests hadn't already done the same.

But it wasn't just any of their blurry faces that I was concerned with.

It was one face in particular that I found myself tracing from afar. One person who I couldn't seem to tear my defiant gaze from. Ironically, it was the same person who I was trying my hardest to forget, if only for a measly minute or two.

James' expression was so soft, so tender, as he dusted the boy off and helped him to his feet. I was too far away to hear what he said, but not far enough to miss the way whatever it was turned the boy's tears into laughter quicker than he'd fallen over in the first place.

Naturally. Mothers, dogs, stepfathers, kids—James had a way with them all.

A featherlight fluttering roused in my stomach. I shook myself off as if that would make it go away. Honestly, I've never really been a fan of small children. So why was watching James take care of one making me tingle with the urge to carry his?

I groaned. I audibly groaned. Because I was disgusted with myself. I was a sickening, infatuated, yearning mess.

Such a mess that the irony of pining in pine trees was totally lost on me.

I thought that getting off that bus and into the fresh, open air would clear my mind of the blond infiltrating every inch of it. But, no, apparently not. Apparently, nothing could help me when it came to my crush on James.

I jumped back from the tree as pressure fell on my shoulder. I had to cover my mouth with my hand to suppress a scream, both terrified and humiliated by my infamously crappy reflexes.

"Sorry," an unfamiliar voice brushed against my ear. It was deep and warm, coated with an unmistakable rural twang. "I didn't mean to scare you."

I felt the urge to ask why, then, he'd approached me from behind totally unannounced.

I brushed myself off instead, picking a pine needle (or three) out of my windswept hair. "No, it's my fault." And maybe it was.

I was the one lurking in the trees like a creep.

The stranger laughed, flashing me the world's whitest and toothiest grin. One that put even Noah's megawatt smile to shame. "Did you need help with anything?"

I took a moment to rake my eyes over him. He was tall, maybe even as tall as James or Dex. There was no denying that he was impressively built; his arms were clearly used to being put to work. His mop of dark hair was perfectly tousled, his wide, gleaming eyes right at home amongst the evergreens. A glimmering nametag was pinned to the collar of his red flannel shirt, the golden letters spelling out 'Skip'.

An employee. That made sense.

It was also incredibly embarrassing considering he'd just caught me in full-stalker mode.

Trust me to get kicked out of a tree farm.

"A tree, maybe?" the chirpy farmhand prodded when I failed to reply.

I shook myself off, trying to remember how to engage in civil conversation. "I-I can't." 

He threw me an odd expression. He had every right to. I was at a place where people went to buy trees, after all. One would likely expect that that's what I was there to do.

"We don't have a car," I tried to explain. But that fact alone didn't seem to quite do the trick. "Well, we did, but it broke down. It overheated or something. I don't know. Cars aren't really my thing. Anyway, my friend has this list. It's like a bucket list for Christmas. And he thinks that if my friends and I do all of the activities on it, it will somehow make us better ... friends."

Wow. Rambling.

Cute.

Skip swallowed a bemused grin, his forest-colored gaze twinkling with fascination. I was glad that someone, at least, was enjoying my temporary war with the English language.

And with being a functional human being in general.

"I have a car," he told me, motioning behind him. Sure enough, a bright red pickup truck was parked between some trees opposite us, and I recognized it instantly as the one I'd seen buzzing about the farm from the bus.

I frowned. I wasn't really sure what to say to that. Lucky you? "That's nice."

Skip laughed again, licking his full lips while a sheepish expression toyed with his rugged features. He was quite handsome in a small-town-boy-from-a-Christmas-film kind of way, and I could see many a city girl falling for his country charm.

Or maybe I was just getting a little carried away with the whole 'Hallmark movie' thing.

"I meant that I can help you," Skip clarified sweetly. "If you need to take a tree somewhere."

"Oh!" I exclaimed, resisting the urge to hit myself over the head with a shovel. Maybe it would've knock some sense into my suddenly senseless brain. Why was I suddenly an idiot? Wasn't I supposed to be smart?

I think I was supposed to be smart.

"I'm transporting some trees further up the mountain," Skip was explaining when I emerged from my humiliation-induced coma. He was kind of just rambling—exactly as I'd been doing earlier—evidently quite uncomfortable under my unexplained silence. He must have thought that I was a literal moron.

Was it too late to pretend that I didn't know how to speak English?

"One more tree—or person—can't hurt," he finished.

I tried to flash him a grateful smile, waving over in my friends' general direction. "Thanks. That's really sweet. But I think we're okay."

He nodded in understanding.

But he didn't seem to understand at all.

Because instead of saying goodbye and backing away as I assumed anyone else would have done in his situation—especially if he thought that I was lacking brain cells, which even I was starting to think at that stage—he just stared.

And smiled.

And stared and smiled some more.

Suddenly, it was Skip who'd lost the ability to speak. Suddenly, it was me who shuffled awkwardly under his lingering stare.

"Is ... um ..."  I trailed off as his hopeful eyes lit like a match. "Is there something that I can help you with?" I thought that was a kind of cute if not totally logical question to ask. He was just standing there staring at me, after all.

But Skip's face turned almost as red as his flannel shirt.

"S-sorry," he stammered. He hovered aimlessly for another second or two, seemingly debating whether or not to continue our silent stare-off. In the flash of an eye, he caught himself amidst the staring and smiling, and without another word, he shook his head, turned on his heel, and hurried back to his truck with newfound urgency.

I watched him fiddle with the stick before he pulled away, throwing an awkward nod-solute type of thing in my direction.

I returned it—because 'awkward' was my specialty—before indulging in a frown when he was out of view. He was probably just friendly. Friendly and ... simple.

Then again, I was the one who'd been caught scurrying about in the firs. Maybe he thought that I was simple. Maybe he was about to warn the other guests that there was a crazy person loose in the evergreens.

Even so, the thought didn't deter me from turning back toward my hiding place. I guess I was just leaning into the stalker thing by that point.

But when I located the hayride again, the boy with the glasses had been reunited with his parents. What was worse, though, was that his knight in shining armor had totally disappeared. In fact, not one of my three companions were anywhere near where I'd last seen them, and I leaned forward through the branches in an effort to sniff out their trail.

"He was cute."

I turned with a start for the second time that morning, my hair getting caught on twigs and needles and pulling me back like a boomerang.

"God." I scowled, trying rather hopelessly to untangle myself. Maybe it was time to give the whole sleuthing thing a rest. "What's with people sneaking up on other people in tree farms? Very unnerving."

Noah arched an eyebrow in response. He was standing where Skip had been moments before, extending my cup of coffee toward me while a lazy grin spread across his mouth.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I moved a branch from over my face as I edged out of my tree, accidentally jabbing my finger with a rogue needle.

Yeah. It was definitely time to give sleuthing a rest.

Noah pursed his lips innocently as he stepped forward, removing his other hand from the pocket of his parka to appraise the small prick on my fingertip. "I'm not looking at you like anything."

I frowned, not at all liking the far-from-innocent insinuation floating in his chocolate gaze. "How long have you been standing there?"

He shrugged, tracing a delicate finger along mine. When he was confident that I wasn't bleeding, he released his grip, shoved his hands back into his pockets, and joined me in my not-so-hidden hiding spot. "Long enough."

"Long enough for what?"

"For me to know that an extremely cute farmhand was totally crushing on you, and that you didn't even notice because you were too busy crushing on our best friend."

A strange taste bubbled in my mouth. Something toxic, like rust on steel. I'd had enough anxiety in my lifetime to know that that's exactly what it was.

I tried to swallow it away with a sip of coffee, rolling my eyes at that pesky, teasing smirk and wielding the only defense mechanism I knew.

Denial.

"You're ridiculous."

"No, Madison. You're ridiculous. In fact," he spun around, meeting my stare to ensure that I caught the earnestness in his, "you're one of the smartest and the most delusional people I've ever met."

I turned away from him with a scoff, moving along the track and back toward the farm. "Excuse you? Delusional? You're the one talking nonsense!"

"You two are as bad as each other," I thought I heard him mutter. The exact same thing that Holly had muttered less than a day ago.

I shook my head to myself. Was my own hopeful thinking and lack of sleep actually starting to drive me crazy? Was it driving me to hear things?

Nope. No. I couldn't deal with crazy. Not on top of all of the other baggage that I was dragging around with me.

"You know the ball's in your court, right?"

That time, I knew for sure that I'd heard him correctly.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I paused mid-flight. I turned on the heel of my suede boots, peering back silently across the narrow track.

But Noah didn't meet my standoff.

He picked up the pace.

He walked in front of me so that I was trailing him. So that I was the one fighting to read his expression. 

"What ball?" I questioned. "What court?"

He spun around quickly, catching me off-guard. The pile of sludge I'd neglected to sidestep was wet and slushy underfoot, and my legs buckled at the same time as his arms flung out to steady me by the waist.

When our eyes locked, I could feel my heartbeat in my ears. Because Noah wasn't bantering or playing around anymore. Rather, he looked down at me with a veiled expression, one that conveyed just as much sternness as it did compassion.

There was something in that combination that screamed sincerity. And truth. And everything else that made my skin crawl. 

Slowly, he moved his hands downwards, sweeping a finger along the hem of my jacket.

Along the hem of James' jacket.

I'm sure that my cheeks turned bright pink under that knowing glare. Either that or my face drained of color completely.

"He put his heart on the line for you, Madi." Noah shrugged simply. Too simply. Almost like the entire situation we were skirting around wasn't as layered and complicated as the first time I'd tried to learn composite functions. "As far as he's concerned, he's done everything that he possibly can to reassure you that he's ready when you are."

The knots in my stomach seemed to untangle. My chest was swelling—swelling with a dangerous concoction of emotions akin to hope.

"He told you that?"

Noah's eyes widened ever so slightly, but he turned away before I could read the new expression crinkling his features. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought that, at the last minute, he'd thought better about whatever it was that he was trying to say.

"He didn't have to," he finally spat out, reaching out to pull me by the arm.

My hopeful heart sunk. Reality set back in.

Of course he didn't say that. Why would he say that?

"He's done his part," Noah continued, clearly unaware of my rising frustration.

Or perhaps he just didn't care.

"You," he said, poking me in the ribs, "need to do the same. You need to put on your big girl panties and man the hell up."

"Ow," I grumbled lowly, my hands flying to my sides.

Noah stopped walking, but our arms were still tied, so I flew back with him. He raised an eyebrow at me skeptically, dismissing my poor attempt at deflection.

Because when denial failed, I could usually always fall back on deflection.

Honestly, I didn't know what else I was supposed to do. I didn't know what else I was supposed to say. Why was everyone pushing me so much to make a move on James, anyway? Holly, Noah—hell, even my own mother had prodded me in her own cryptic, underhanded way. Couldn't they all see that my head and heart were already at war? That I was already trying so damn hard to salvage a friendship that could blow up the second that I succumbed to temptation?

I'd never had a friend likes James before. I'd never had someone who could read me with one look. Someone who I knew would always get every outlandish and sometimes downright inappropriate joke that flew from my lips. Someone who'd walk alongside me in times of success and failure, who wouldn't let me run from him no matter how much my trust issues dared me to try.

"Madison," Noah warned, "you know that I'm right."

I bit the side of my lip as I peered back at him silently. His tone—all pointed and authoritative—made me feel like I was a child getting reprimanded by their principal.

It was also getting harder and harder to find a way out of this discussion.

I didn't want to outright lie. After everything that'd unfolded in the aftermath of my heartbreak experiment, I'd vowed to never be dishonest with my friends ever again. But, somehow, this felt different. Like I wasn't lying to save me, but to save my friendship with James.

That felt like an honorable enough cause.

"What I know ..." I said slowly, drawing out each word as my brain ticked away.

Noah's shoulders rose in anticipation. He didn't know what I was about to say, and his breath appeared bated while he blew hope into the air between us.

"Is that we're always talking about me," I finished, my strides becoming confident as I broke rank to skip ahead. "We never talk about you."

Just as quickly as his posture stiffened, it slumped. Though it was a minuscule gesture not intended for my eyes, I caught him throw a hand in the air rather helplessly. "God, Madi—"

"No, I'm serious." I wasn't. Not really. But I saw a way out of that conversation.

And I took it.

"I must be the worst friend ever. Just sucking up your energy and advice and giving hardly anything in return."

Noah tutted. "That's not true. You were the only one who understood what I was going through when Tyler broke up with me. You were the one who encouraged me to get back on the horse. You helped me set up my Tinder profile. And my Grindr profile. And my Hinge profile—"

"I don't know, Noah. I just feel like you know a lot more about me than I do about you. And that makes me feel like a bad friend."

Silence enveloped us like a thick fog, anticipation rising from my stomach and threatening to flush my cheeks. It was only in the quiet, shielded from his view, that I felt a grimace spread over my mouth.

Had I gone too far? Said too much? Like James, Noah could usually sense my sarcasm from a mile away.

But I must have given the performance of my life, because my sympathetic friend looped his arm through mine again.

"Well, what do you want to know?" he asked sweetly. So sweetly that it almost made me feel bad.

Almost.

Because the gravity of my new problem hit me like a handful of snow to the face.

The problem being that there wasn't anything about the boy on my arm that I didn't already know.

I really should have thought through the whole deflection thing a little more.

"Um ..."  I tore my eyes from his face and across the rural landscape. The tree lot was on an incline, and we had the perfect view of the small country town dotting the horizon. Shop owners were setting up their cafes and stores for the day, while tourists and locals alike took full advantage of the December sun's fleeting rays. The whole environment made me feel warm and fuzzy, melting some of the ice that Noah's interrogation had sent coursing through my veins.

That view was unlike anything I'd seen in real life. And I never would have seen it in real life—not without Noah's extensive, demanding list, at least.

Just like that, feigned intrigue sparked into something real.

"The list," I announced assertively.

That list made up ninety-five percent of our pit stops that entire trip, to the point where our impromptu shopping expedition had set us back almost an entire day. I knew for a fact that there was more to it than my friends were letting on.

And I really didn't like being the only one who didn't know what that something was.

"There's something other than your little Christmas theory or relationship test spurring us along, isn't there?"

Noah's lips quivered as his breath left them, trapped in the beginnings of a nervous laugh. I nodded to myself, pulling him back to face me. His eyes were still tied to the variety of trees flanking us on either side, but, in all honesty, neither of us was making much effort to look at them any longer.

"What's up with your list, Noah?" I asked again. Daring him to answer. Daring him to face me.

Oh, how the tables had turned.

But when my friend's gaze finally left the wintry flora to meet mine, it didn't look as guarded as I'd expected it to.

Rather, he looked quite pleased that I'd even asked.

It was back. That chill that raced over my skin. The one that told me that I was heading into dangerous territory.

Confirming my thoughts with a wry grin, he muttered, "It's not my list."

As though he'd chiseled through my upper-hand with an ice pick, I felt my confident exterior crumble.

"It's not my list, Madi," Noah repeated. He leaned in closer, sensing that I was seconds away from completely retreating into the trees. "It's James'."

Disbelief pulled at my brow, but it didn't quite make it anywhere else. Because as outlandish as those two little words sounded coming out of his mouth, the one thing that I did know about Noah Jones was that he absolutely did not lie.

"No it's not," I said anyway, shielding my shock in a laugh designed to prod him into submission. I scoffed loudly, as though volume equated truth. "He thinks it's dumb! He complains about it every time we sucker him into making another pit stop. He hates that thing, Noah—"

"No." He shook his head, gripping me tighter as he felt me pull away. "He's annoyed, Madison. Annoyed that I told you about it in the first place."

My mouth floundered open and closed as I scurried about for a response. "Why?" I finally sputtered. "And why lie about it?"

Noah shrugged simply. So simply that I could have smacked him if I didn't love him so much. "We didn't lie. You just didn't ask."

I considered that before blowing up on him further. And, when I did, I discovered that he was ... right.

Neither Noah, James, or Dex had ever referred to the list as Noah's list. That was a conclusion I'd jumped to all on my own.

"Why?" I repeated, quieter that time. Why would James have a Christmas bucket list? James, of all people? He really didn't strike me as the type.

But, if the amused smile brewing on Noah's lips was any indication, my interrogation was futile. I knew with one glance that he expected me to figure out the answer to that one all on my own.

Because I sure as hell wouldn't be getting it from him.

I turned back to the view on the horizon, frustration merging with confusion and manifesting into a completely dramatic sigh. I picked up the pace to break rank once more, as though leaving him behind would somehow cause the pieces of the puzzle he'd just thrown at me to fall into place.

It didn't.

My initial hypothesis still made far more sense.

Because Noah and I were practically the Whos from Whoville. We started decorating our dorm rooms with fairy lights and miniature trees on November eight. If anyone in my friend group was going to make a Christmas-y bucket list, it was going to be one of us.

Still, even Dex was a more likely candidate than James. While the former mostly succumbed to the Christmas spirit for the food, the festivities, and the general cozy atmosphere, at least that made for a reasonably understandable motive as to why he'd be the one responsible for crafting a seasonal to-do list.

James, on the other hand, was a complete wildcard. Compared to the rest of us, he'd always seemed rather impartial to the holidays. He didn't hate them, he didn't love them. As far as I could tell, Christmas was just another day to him.

At least, that's what I'd always assumed.

But what Noah told me knocked that assumption out of orbit, catapulting it towards earth until it threatened to obliterate everything I thought I knew about my favorite ocean eyed blond.

It was cause to wonder—what else didn't I know?

"I wasn't lying about my theory, though," Noah called after me.

I decided not to turn back around to face him, but my ears pricked at the wistful tone his voice had taken on.

"I got a little carried away with the joke, sure. But I meant what I said. I really do think that this trip is make or break for you." He paused, his voice growing quieter. "For you and him, I mean."

My eyelids fluttered closed. Because I knew that already. I'd known it all along.

Time was passing. The seconds were ticking by, the countdown well and truly down to single digits. I was ready for James. For a relationship. For everything that both entailed. I was so afraid of letting him know that, but I'd be a fool not to realize that we could only float in the friendzone for so long. Sooner or later, the cement would set.

I had to make sure I was in the right position when it did.

"Buy a tree," I mumbled to myself.

When my eyes sprung back open, Noah was staring at me bemusedly.

"That's high on his list," I clarified, framing my question as a statement. Because I wasn't really asking. I knew. I'd seen that list enough times to know.

The gravel crunched under my boots as I spun around for the hundredth time in ten minutes, my eyes darting around the farm until they found the source of their search near the barn.

"What are you doing?" Noah called out, struggling to keep up in his clunky cowboy boots.

"I've sacrificed my ethics before, Noah. I'm not afraid to do it again."

"What are you talking about?" he squawked.

I feigned conviction with a nod. "I'm getting James a tree."

I fluffed up my hair and straightened out my outfit, paying particular attention to my sad excuse of a chest. 'Sexy' was not in my usual repertoire. And flirting with men? That wasn't even in my skill set. But James wanted a tree, and Skip had a car.

Sometimes, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

And just like that, we have yet another road trip companion. What are your thoughts on Skip?

Are you surprised to learn that James created the list?!

I have to say, I really do feel for Noah. He feels an immense sense of loyalty toward both James and Madi, so he doesn't want to throw either of them under the bus and expose them to one another before they're ready. Plus, Madi is not the easiest person in the room to read! But I can practically feel his frustration with both of them seeping through the page😂

What have you guys been up to since we last spoke? How's 2021 treating you?