“Hey, hey,” I say, reaching her in one step. “What did I say?”
She shakes her head, the smile she’s wearing a farce, her eyes glossy. “I just…it’s good to see you.”
“You too.”
I clear my throat. “Can I ask you an intrusive question?”
“Of course.”
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“Sort of…” she says distractedly as if she’s in another place before bringing her eyes back to me. “To be honest, I went on a coffee date today, but it’s nothing serious. It’s new.”
Heart thundering, I clear my throat for the second time. “So, if I’m not stepping on any toes, what do you say we spend Christmas together?”
It’s then, while in wait for her answer that I see the invisible tie to her appear wrapped around my enslaved heart. The idea she might pass, along with her confession of something new has my stomach rolling.
“You want to spend Christmas with me?”
“Why not? I’m here. You’re here. It’ll be fun. I’ve never been to the city. You can show me around.”
“I have a break until the day after, so yeah,” she nods and nods, her expression dazed before her eyes lift, “I’d love to spend Christmas with you.”
“Alright then, it’s settled.” I glance at her bedside clock. “It’s late. I should go, let you get some sleep.”
“I’ll plan it all out. What time do you get up?”
“Early crow, around four-thirty.”
“Lance,” she looks at the clock. “That’s like four hours from now.”
“I’ll sleep in then and be up at six.” I give her a wink. “Just, uh, text me when you wake up.” I pass her my phone, and she takes it, her eyes darting down when our fingers touch. It’s then I see it, guilt. Guilt I would’ve loved to have seen two years ago for the way she banished me. I bat that away, my anger with her low-lying. Where it will remain. I’m not about to screw this up by punishing her. I can’t bring myself to do it yet, but oh, how I want to. What I want more is to punish her shimmering lips, rip off her sweater and leggings and fuck the hell out of her until she’s whimpering out regrets and apologies. Instead, I pocket my phone once she’s programmed her number in and head for the door.
“I’m gonna head out.”
“See you tomorrow?” She pipes up behind me when I open it.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll walk you out, so my chihuahua doesn’t attack.”
“I can handle him.”
“He was tired. Just wait until he’s had some coffee tomorrow.”
I chuckle as she walks me to her door. The apartment quiet, my steps heavy on the hardwood. The last thing I want to do is leave, but I’m still fighting the gnawing resentment, and I need to get a handle on it before I keep more conversation with her. How she can be so completely foreign and familiar at the same time is screwing with me.
Once on the other side of her door, I linger, as does she.
We stare silently, time and past between us before she speaks up. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“Yeah,” I say softly, before leaning in to kiss her cheek. When I pull away, I do it just a hair from her lips. “It’s good to see you, Priss.”
She licks her lips, and her eyes slowly lift to mine. “You too.”
“Night.”
Harper