Katie

Christmas in Montana went better than I'd expected. Mom and Bailey were smitten with Seth, of course. Shelby, even, had softened considerably toward him by the end of the week. I thought Shelby was suspicious of him at first, but after she'd told Bailey and I her secret, I started to think it may have just been jealousy. She couldn't exactly bring home a girl for the holidays. At least, not without starting a civil war.

Dad was harder to read. It had me itching to get Seth alone so I could grill him on what they'd talked about while inspecting my car. But that would never happen in a house with God-fearing parents and two nosey sisters.

We get ready to leave as scheduled, after an early breakfast the Friday after Christmas. I give long goodbyes to my mom and sisters and promise to call more often. My mom pulls Seth in for a surprise hug, which makes him laugh. On the way out, Seth ruffles Bailey's hair, and she blushes.

Dad helps us carry our things out to the car, which Seth'd had the forethought to let warm up in the thirty-degree morning chill.

"Love you, Dad," I say into Dad's chest while Seth loads our bags.

He kisses the top of my head. "Love you more, baby girl," he says softly, probably hoping Seth can't hear him.

Dad pulls back when Seth shuts the trunk, and he gives Seth another intense handshake and clap on the shoulder before he heads toward his own waiting car to go work.

We stop for coffee before we reach the highway. As usual, Seth pays while I urge him not to. But, as he points out, I don't have much of a leg to stand on. We'd only agreed to take turns buying coffee in La Push. Not Montana. Maybe I need to amend the rules.

I'm only able to hold off as long as it takes us to finish our coffee. "So," I start, turning down the radio until it's background noise. "What did you think about the trip?" I ask, slipping my hand in his. It's one of the reasons I like when he drives my car – when we're in his truck, both his hands are occupied.

He smiles my favorite smile, sincere and eager. "I had a great time. It almost felt like a vacation. I loved seeing where you grew up, and it was fun to see where you picked up all your quirks."

"Quirks? I don't have quirks," I respond, twirling my ring around my finger.

He glances over. "That," he says, picking up our intertwined hands to gesture to me spinning my ring, "is a quirk. Your mom does the same thing." I can tell he's smiling based on the tone of his voice. "And how you cry when you're frustrated? Bailey did that too after Shelby outsmarted her in Monopoly."

I look over at him in surprise. "How do you do that? Notice stuff like that? Is it because of the wolf thing?"

He shrugs. "I just…" he trails off, and when I glance over, I can tell he's struggling with his words. "I want to know everything about you, Katie."

Butterflies stir in my stomach as he emphasizes his words by rubbing his thumb across my hand.

His voice is thick enough that it finally prompts me to ask, "What did you talk to my dad about on Christmas Eve?"

"We started off talking about the car," Seth responds. "Then he asked me what I did for a living, how I earned money."

I sigh, relieved, looking over at him. "That's not that bad." But he shifts in his seat uncomfortably. "Was there something else?" I ask.

"He asked me what my… intentions were with you," he responds softly.

Intentions. What a lawyer word. What a Dad word. "What did you tell him?"

"The truth?" he asks.

Seth also asked me if I wanted the truth the day that he told me about the wolf thing. "To save us some time, you can just assume that I always want the truth."

He nods slowly. "I told him…" he pauses, taking a long glance at me. "That I'd like to marry you someday."

Color blossoms on my cheeks, and my jaw goes slack. I turn my face toward the window so he can't see it. Outside the car, the sights of the passing trees become a blur as my head spins.

Marry me?

I'd probably fantasized about marrying every one of my past boyfriends, scribbled Mrs. What's-His-Name in the margins of my notebooks with each passing crush. But Seth wasn't just any crush. Any boyfriend, even.

My mind slips back to our Christmas Eve late night conversation. I was hoping that by voicing my desire to wait until marriage, I'd be able to squelch the other desire deep in my stomach whenever we kissed, or when his warm hands brushed over virtually any part of my body.

I hadn't expected him to tell me he actually wants to marry me not a week later.

But what had I expected? Us to stay doing long distance, living a hundred and sixty-five miles apart from each other, until what? I graduate? That thought makes my head spin even more.

"Katie?" Seth asks, squeezing my hand.

I finally squeak out, "Don't you think we're going a little… fast?"

Seth glances down at the speedometer. "I'm only going seven over."

His innocence makes my heart melt. "Not the car, Seth," I say, my voice softer this time.

He laughs, and the sound washes the tension in my body away. "I'm not asking you right now, Katie."

Although I love the way he says my name – often and with reverence – it's still not enough to calm my racing heart.

He must hear it, because he asks, "Should I… hit the brakes? We don't have to talk about it if it makes you comfortable."

Despite my mind swirling, I find myself shaking my head. I say, "Downshift, maybe? Did I get that right? When you don't want to go as fast."

He manages a chuckle at my horrible stick-shift reference. "Yeah, okay. I think your dad would appreciate that, too. He wants you to finish school."

"Wait. He gave you conditions?"

"I mean, I guess—"

"He likes you," I realize aloud, snapping my head to look at Seth. "He doesn't give conditions to people he doesn't like."

He breaks into a grin and lets out a relieved sigh of his own. "You got that from him caring about your education? And here I was, waiting the entire week for him to tell me to call him Greg, thinking that was the key."

I laugh, my body filled with the lightness of unmistakable joy. If I wasn't buckled in, I could float away.

"So," I say, tightening my grip on his hand, "what other quirks did you notice?" For now, at least, I can push his comments about marriage to the back of my mind.

We celebrate Christmas with Leah, Sue, and Charlie the day after we get back from Montana. Leah complained about having to wait longer than usual to open her presents, but she was smiling as she did it.

"Maybe next year," Seth had whispered into my ear as Sue and Leah engaged in a tissue paper war with Charlie, "we could do Christmas here and visit your family after. Switch off years." Next year. My pulse had increased at just the thought of another Christmas by Seth's side, but he'd only kissed my temple before joining in the fight, coming to the aid of Charlie.

New Year's Eve passes almost uneventfully. We spend the evening at Sam and Emily's with the usual crowd, and Seth places a small kiss on my lips at midnight. I also take my first ever shots, which did not turn out so well. But I was nowhere near as drunk as Leah. It took her almost two full days to be approachable again.

That Saturday – my last Saturday in La Push before the new semester starts – Seth and I get a head start on breakfast before Sue arrives. Seth is trying to teach me how to make the perfect pancake. One of The Cure's CDs is playing out of the radio tucked in the corner of the counter.

"It's all in the batter," he says as he mixes together his special recipe.

I lean against the counter next to him. "I think Bisquick tastes just fine," I say defensively.

He laughs. "You also live on frozen pizza and Hamburger Helper when you're not here."

I try to listen to what he's telling me about why boxed mixes are good in a pinch but not long term. But all I can focus on are the way the veins in his forearm are protruding as he mixes the batter.

Seth does the first few pancakes, demonstrating his technique and talking me through the art of flipping. He takes his pancakes seriously.

"You wanna pour one?" he asks, tilting his head to look at me.

I nod, pushing off the counter and finally diverting my eyes away from his arms. "How does one pour the perfect pancake, exactly?" I ask, grabbing the ladle he'd set aside.

I get a spoonful of batter ready, and I feel warm fingertips on my elbow guide my arm to the waiting pan.

"Start in the middle," he whispers close to my ear. It takes everything in me not to jump. "And work your way out."

He helps guide my arm around the pan as I pour the pancake.

"Perfect," he says against my neck.

I try to keep my heart rate steady, but it's useless. "What now?" I ask quietly, not daring to move.

Seth chuckles against my skin. "In three minutes, we'll flip it."

I carefully turn myself around, making sure not to touch the burner or brush up against Seth. He's got his bottom lip drawn up between his teeth.

"What do we do while we wait?" I ask.

He thinks for just a second before his eyes light up. He smiles down at me. "Hold that thought."

Seth takes a big sidestep to the stereo, flipping over a few songs. I hear the opening drumroll of Just Like Heaven start to play.

He reaches down and grabs my hand. "Dance with me," he says softly, swaying our arms side to side.

I laugh. "Are we really about to be this cheesy?" I ask, although I'm already smiling.

I try to move along with him, but I feel clumsy. "Seth, I feel ridiculous," I say, stilling my feet after only the first chorus.

He laughs down at me. "You gotta feel it, Katie."

He starts to sing the lyrics aloud to the second verse. "Spinning on that dizzy edge," he sings, spinning me around in a circle and pulling me closer to him after my revolution is through. "Kissed her face, kissed her hair," he sings louder, placing a sloppy kiss on my glowing cheek before placing a kiss in my hair like the song says.

His enthusiasm, like always, is catching, and I find myself singing along with the next lines effortlessly.

Before I know it, we're both singing the lyrics at the top of our lungs, and I can barely catch my breath between belting the lyrics and our laughter.

"Lost and lonely, you, just like heaven," Seth finishes, flashing me a warm smile and taking my face in his hands.

"Cut that shit out, already! Mom's here!" Leah yells from down the hall.

Seth sighs, his lips mere centimeters from mine. He pulls back and places a kiss on the tip of my nose instead, stepping back to the stove as the front door swings open.

The next day passes all too quickly, and soon, Seth is dropping me off at my apartment for the new semester.

I'd spent almost an entire month at his house. And it still wasn't enough. As he sets my bags down in my room, his silhouette becomes blurry. I'm crying, I realize.

"Katie? What's the matter?" He asks hesitantly, coming over and pulling me to his chest.

He rests his lips on my forehead, rubbing circles with his thumb on the back of my shoulder. His other hand is on the small of my back. Normally, it's comforting. Maybe even exciting. But right now, all I can think about is its impending absence.

I take a big gulp of his scent as I try to keep my breathing steady. "I just… I don't want to say goodbye," I murmur into his chest. "Is this how you feel all the time?"

He presses his lips harder against my forehead, and when he finally speaks, his voice is hoarse. "Yeah."

Seth pulls back and takes my face in his giant hands, swiping his thumb under my eyes. His own eyes are slightly red. "Please don't cry," he pleads. "Five days and counting, okay?"

I try to nod, but my bottom lip starts trembling. He leans down and kisses me to stop it.

"I love you," he whispers against my lips. "Five days."

After I walk Seth out, I focus on minimizing the dull ache in my chest. I lean against the front door, running my thumb across my lips, trying to remember what his lips felt like against mine.

Ashley emerges from her room. "Hey, was that Seth I heard?"

"Yeah," I say, dropping my hand. "He said to tell you hi."

She plops down on the couch, waving her arm for me to join her. "Come on, tell me everything! I've been waiting all day!"

Her eagerness makes me smile despite how I'm feeling, and I shove off the wall and make my way to the couch.

"So, let's start with your trip. How'd it go?" She asks, crossing her legs comfortably once I'm seated across from her.

I kick my shoes off, pulling my legs up beside me. "Mom loved him, of course. And Bailey has a crush on him, too."

Ashley giggles. "Who doesn't?"

I lean over to smack her arm. "Hey! If you keep talking like that, I won't tell you the juicy stuff."

She gasps. "Did you have sex?"

I have to chuckle. "No. It's even better than that, I think."

Ashley rolls her eyes, crossing her arms. "Like you would know."

Embarrassment floods my cheeks.

I open my mouth to speak, but Ashley holds up a palm. "Wait. I think I'm going to need some wine for this," she says, standing.

Now is my turn to be shocked. Ashley, like me, is only nineteen. "Where did you get wine?" I ask, turning to look as she walks to the fridge.

She pulls out the bottle from the fridge and slams it shut with her hip. "My boyfriend bought it for me," she says over her shoulder.

"Boyfriend?" I repeat. Ashley opens and closes the few kitchen drawers we have. "If you're looking for a corkscrew, I don't think we—"

"A-ha!" she says, brandishing the sought-after corkscrew. "Devon bought it for me when he noticed we didn't have one. He's so thoughtful."

"And Devon is the boyfriend," I say.

She nods as she works to open the bottle. "I met him at the library while I was cramming for finals. He asked me if I had a calculator, I asked him how he made it all semester without a calculator, and the rest is history," she concludes, giving the corkscrew a final tug. "Wine?"

"Um…" I flick my eyes to the deadbolt, making sure I locked it behind Seth. What was I expecting? My parents, the police, to come knocking down our door because two college girls were underage drinking? That's ridiculous.

So I say, "Sure."

Her eyebrow arcs as she grabs two coffee mugs. We don't own any wine glasses. "Seth's good for you."

"How? Because I'm drinking? Wouldn't that make him a bad influence?"

Ashley rolls her eyes, and she doesn't answer until she's finished pouring our drinks and is situated across from me on the couch again.

"He's teaching you to live a little," she says, handing me my mug. "And not in the big ways that you'll do without thinking about it. Literally, live a little at a time. Not every action has to be life altering. You can just do things to do them, you know."

"I know that," I say, although my tone sounds unconvincing. I eye the liquid in my glass before finding Ashley's eyes again.

She gives me a knowing look, and we burst into laughter.

"Okay," she says after we catch our breath. She takes a sip of her wine. "What's this juicy stuff that's even better than sex?"

I take a sip of my own wine experimentally. It's fizzy and fruity – I imagine this is not the same dark red wine that my mom drinks with dinner. But I like the taste, so I take a bigger sip before I answer. "He sort of… pre-proposed? Kind of?"

Her forehead creases. "What does that even mean?" She asks, taking another sip.

I recount my late-night conversation with Seth and our talk on the drive home.

"A few questions," she says before taking a drink. "One," she says sticking out her thumb, "Do you really think you can wait until marriage? Two," she sticks out her pointer finger to keep count, "do you really want to wait that long?" Her middle finger joins the others. "And three, do you want to marry Seth?"

"Yes, I want to wait until marriage. And I like to believe I'm the kind of girl that can stick to her guns."

"But you also haven't let yourself get in any… sticky situations, have you?"

My face twists in confusion as I take another drink. I feel my cheeks starting to grow warm. "What do you mean?" I try to be inconspicuous when I check the clock to see how much longer it is until Seth's home. He's only been gone twenty minutes? I feel like we've been apart for hours already.

"What I mean," she says pointedly, "is that you're like, in the situation where you have to decide in that moment whether to do it or not. You haven't had any of those, have you?"

My cheeks flush more thoroughly at just the thought of it. "I see your point. But I think he respects me too much to ever put me in that situation in the first place," I volley.

"Well, if that's what floats your boat," Ashley says. "I live for those moments."

"Why?" I ask.

She giggles as she finishes her drink. "Because I just go ahead and do it anyway."

I laugh and start to stand, but she grabs my arm. "Oh no you don't. That's only two out of three questions answered."

"What was the last one again?" I say, looking up to the ceiling.

"Katie," she scolds.

I meet her eyes again, fingers tightening around my mug on instinct. "It's only been three months. It would be crazy of me to want to marry him…" I eye the clock again instinctively. "Right?"

Ashley rises to her feet, sauntering to the fridge. "Not any crazier than it was that you took a solo road trip, didn't die, and ended up falling in love with a cute surfer boy on the beach."

I laugh. "I thought you were going to tell me it had to do with my hormones."

"Oh, it probably does have to do with your hormones," she says matter-of-factly. "I'm in a Psychology of Sex class this semester. I'll be sure to take lots of notes for you."

There's a part of me that knows she's right – about my hormones, at least. When I'd woken up on Christmas Eve, I was practically on top of him already. At the time I'd tried to ration it by telling myself I must have gotten cold. But even being in the same room as Seth usually keeps my chills away.

And if Seth's senses are as sharp as he says they are, there's no way he doesn't know what he does to me. I mean, it's only fair. He can't exactly hide what I do to him, either.

Ashley doesn't – can't – know about the imprinting thing, which adds a whole other level of complexities to my situation. I wish I could tell Ashley about the bond that Seth and I have. I know that even if I could explain it to her, she wouldn't understand.

But I don't even understand it myself.

"Katie?" Ashley calls, and based on her face she's been trying to get my attention for a minute. "More?" she asks, swishing the bottle of wine by the neck.

Desperate for a distraction from just staring at the clock until Seth gets home, I say, "Let's do it."