"You kissed twister?" Otto asked, outraged, pulling me out of my head.

I opened my eyes and lifted my shoulders out of the water to see Otto in his full snowboard gear standing at the edge of the hot tub.

"He told you?" I let out an annoyed groan.

"You promised you wouldn't go there! And the next day, you kiss him and then tell him you don't think it's going to work? Are you trying to ruin this trip?"

"Not everything's about you, Otto!"

"This isn't about me—it's about my best bro. Ive got his back. Aren't you supposed to have mine?"

"Like you have mine?" I shot back. "You didn't even warn me he was going to be on this trip!"

"Well, you're in luck, now he's talking about leaving!"

"Good! Let him go!"

"He can't afford to fly to Mexico!" Otto exclaimed before letting out a frustrated groan. "Why do you always do this? Why do you keep starting things with Twister just to end it two seconds later?"

"Two seconds?" I repeated, flabbergasted. "We were together over two years!"

"I'm sick of you causing all this drama. He's my best friend!"

"He was mine too!" I replied, my anger building.

"Then why'd you break up with him?"

"I didn't!"

The words were out of my mouth before I thought about them. I sighed, the anger building between the two of us disapaiting. What was done was done.

"He broke up with me."

"What? Why'd you tell me you broke up with him?"

"I didn't," I rolled my eyes. "You assumed I did, so I just didn't correct you."

He looked almost sympathetic. "Why not?"

"I didn't want people to feel sorry for me," I shrugged. "And I don't know, it's kind of embarrassing being dumped."

"Especially by Twister," he laughed. I shot him a look and his grin vanished. "Sorry."

"I can't believe he never told me."

I shifted in the water. "Dumping your best friend's sister isn't really something you wanna brag about. And I was glad you didn't know. I didn't want your friendship to be messed up."

"That's really solid of you, Reg."

"Despite what you think, I've got your back."

"It just sucks that I never knew," he sighed. "I kind of resented you for breaking up with him."

"Better than you resenting him; you're stuck with me," I said with a little smirk.

"I wouldn't have resented him. I would've told him he was being an idiot and he needed to beg for you to take him back."

I gave him a small smile.

"For the record, he's not over you," he said, leaning against the railing. "He talks about you all the time."

"He does?" I asked, sitting up a little straighter.

"Why do you think I didn't want you to start something up with him? He's already, like, obsessed with you."

I smiled. "Thanks, Rocket Boy."

"We good?"

"We're good," I said, sticking my hand out as we both said, "woogity, woogity."

I stood under the shower head, taking in the warmth of the water as I tried to process what I was feeling.

Things had gotten so murky. This morning, I'd thought getting back together with Twister would be perfect; after we kissed, it seemed like it might just make everything worse, but now . . .

I didn't know what I thought now.

I closed my eyes as the overly pressurized water massaged my head.

I loved him. And he loved me—he'd said it himself. Not just in the moment, not just because of the kiss, but this whole time. Otto said he'd been talking about me since we broke up.

Then why didn't he ever try to contact me? And how could I trust that he wouldn't just do the same thing again?

I turned the faucet off, grabbing a towel off the hook and wrapping it around myself. I wiped off the fogged of mirror, looking intently at my reflection and not liking what I saw—fear.

I wasn't the type of person to let fear make my decisions for me. I was the kind of girl who surfed twenty foot waves, who mountain biked on the side of canyons, who snowboarded the black diamonds. I wasn't about to start letting fear rule my life.

The cabin would probably be a little too crowded for this conversation, so I searched around for a blow dryer and threw my hair up in a bun once it was dry. I quickly changed into a layer of thermal underwear, some sweats, and a sweatshirt before heading to the living room.

It was empty.

But the kitchen wasn't.

"Hey, Tito," I greeted, inhaling the scent of stew he was cooking. "Smells great."

"Hope it tastes the same," he said jovially, holding out the spoon for me to try it myself.

"You nailed it," I assured him, rocking back on my feet a little before asking, "Do you know where Twister is?"

"Haven't seen him. It's been pretty quiet in here for a while. Maybe he went with your dad to check out the shops. I know Otto wanted to check out the snowboards."

"Oh."

"Not the answer you were looking for."

I sighed, leaning against the counter. "Not really."

He put the spoon down, turning to give me his full attention. "What's going on, little cuz?"

"Tito . . . I don't know what to do. Things are weird between us right now. I have so much I want to say, but it's hard. Part of me wants to just keep my mouth shut, deal with the awkwardness over the next couple days, and just move on."

"The oyster who keeps his lips sealed will never find the pearl," Tito said wisely.

"But what if there's not a pearl?"

"You won't find out if you don't bother to look."

I let out another exhale. "You make it sound so simple."

"Simple and easy are not the same thing," he pointed out. "A simple thing can be very hard to do. But many times, the things that are the hardest produce the best pearls."

I stepped forward to hug him. "Thanks, Tito."

"Any time."

Mount Baldy wasn't particularly large. There was basically one little square of shops. And I knew just where to look for the guys.

I stepped into the snowboard shop, immediately spotting my brother as he followed my dad around, likely dropping some hard hints for Christmas presents. But no Twister.

"Hey," I said, walking up to them. "Tito said he thought Twister was with you."

"Hey, there, princess!" Dad greeted, happy to see me.

Otto actually heard what I said. For once.

"He went to go check out some lame-o touristy shop."

"Thanks," I said, turning to walk back out the door. I pulled it open and found Twister just outside it, his arm extending to push it.

"I was just coming to—," he paused, confusion catching up with him. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you." My eyes fell to the little plastic bag in his hand. He quickly shoved it in his jacket pocket. "Can we talk?"

"Really?" he asked before apparently deciding he shouldn't be questioning this. "I mean yes!"

I stepped the rest of the way out side, walking side by side with him, our shoes crunching into the snow until we'd rounded the corner of the shop.

"I'm sorry for freaking out earlier," I started.

"I didn't mean to upset you." He looked so apologetic, with those puppy eyes that could melt all the snow on the mountain.

"I was worried about this thing between us going south from the beginning," I admitted. "I know it didn't stop me from kissing you, but when you told me the real reason you broke up with me, it made me question it even more."

"It's my fault," he looked down at the ground. "I'd convinced myself all this time that I was doing what was best for you, but you were right. It was because I never felt good enough for you. I never knew why you picked me in the first place."

"Twister," I said, my glove pressing against his skin to tilt up his chin, forcing him to meet my eyes. "You're kind and funny and always knew how to be there for me. Not to mention very hot," I added with a coy grin that made him smile too. "You never need to question why I love you."

"Love? Not loved?" He asked hopefully.

"Love," I confirmed. I dropped my hand, taking in a sharp breath. "But if we do this thing, we need to work through this stuff—insecurities and whatever else might come up. If you're ever feeling that way, just talk to me, okay? Because I don't want to spend our entire relationship worrying that one day you're going to decide to breakup with me again."

"Don't worry, I definitely learned my lesson there."

"Good." I smiled again, eyeing his jacket pocket. "So what's in the bag?"

"Er, what bag?"

I took a step closer to him, my hands moving to his waist. I stuck one in his pocket, pulling out the bag and dangling it in front of him. "This bag."

He snatched it back from me and shoved it back in his pocket. "I might've gotten you something for Christmas. I didn't know if we'd be talking by then or not, but I felt weird not having anything for you and I was hoping maybe . . ."

"Twister," I said, taking a step in so our bodies were pressed together. My lips were inches from his as I whispered, "merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Reg," he replied, closing the gap between us.