Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
OLLIE
IT WON’T BE HARD
I’m standing outside my front door when Hunter pulls up at the exact time he said he would. I head to his truck, a cold, wet snow starting to fall.
“You brought a poinsettia,” Hunter says as I close myself up in the warmth of the truck.
“Sharon went with me to get it. She was way too excited about it,” I say.
“I’m sure she was.”
“She also said your mother would love a poinsettia.”
“She’ll appreciate it, even if you didn’t need to bring anything.”
I roll my eyes at him. “I have to make a good first impression.”
“My mom loves you. You have nothing to worry about.”
“She loves friend Ollie. Not boyfriend Ollie.”
“Pretty sure they’re one and the same.” He laughs.
“What are we going to tell your mom?” I ask, ignoring him.
“What do you mean?”
“About how we started dating.”
“Stick to the same story we told everyone at your office,” he says. “Keep it simple.”
“Well, the hard part about that,” I start, adjusting my glasses, “is I don’t remember a lot of what we told people.”
“Because you were drunk off your ass, Ol.”
“Hey.” I smack him on the arm. “I might still be drunk.”
“Well, I made you soup when you were sick and you were so impressed, you had to start dating me.”
“Really? Pretty full of yourself there considering I’ve never tasted your soup.”
“What?” he scoffs. “I know I’ve made you soup.”
I turn in my seat, facing him. “Hunter Wells. You have never once in your life made me soup.”
“Because I don’t know how to make it?”
My jaw drops. “How are we friends?”
Pulling up to the one stoplight in town, he looks over at me, tapping my chin closed. The barest hint of contact has warmth spreading through me. I shouldn’t be feeling that.
“You might need to teach me then.”
“Really?” I ask. “You want me to show you how to make soup?”
“You teach me how to make soup, and maybe I’ll show you how to cut down a tree.”
An audible gasp escapes my lips. “Hunter! I have been asking you for years to let me cut down my own tree and you always say I can’t.”
“Because you told me you can’t swing an ax.”
“I am going to hold you to this. Next week.”
“What are you going to do with the tree?” he asks as we pull into his mom’s driveway.
Icicle lights hang from the front porch. Large inflatables fill the yard. A giant snowman. Santa. A Christmas tree. There are even reindeer on the roof.
“I can take it to work,” I say, hopping out of the truck.
“Of course you will.”
Walking up the sidewalk, my nerves grow.
Damn it. I thought I wouldn’t be as worried about this. I mean, it’s fake. I shouldn’t stress about this. But stressing about things is my baseline. I’m not immune to it.
“Hey.” Hunter stops me, grabbing my elbow and giving it a squeeze. “It’ll be okay.”
The reassuring smile he gives me does funny things to my insides. That doesn’t make things easier for me not to worry about this. Now I’m thinking about why my stomach is swooping and swirling at my best friend’s smile.
“I know,” I say.
My smile wavers, but I take a deep breath as Hunter opens the front door and I follow him inside.
“Mom. We’re here.”
Sweeping into the living room, his mom is wearing an oversized ugly Christmas sweater covered in snowmen with carrots sticking out from the front. Her grayish-brown hair falls in wavy curls around her shoulders. Her smile lights up her face.
Hunter is the spitting image of her.
“There is my baby boy.” She pecks him on the cheek. “And…Ollie?”
“Mom.” Hunter rests a hand on my lower back. “You know Ollie, but let me introduce you to him as my boyfriend.”
“This is for you, Mrs. Wells.” I shove the poinsettia at her in a rush of nerves.
“You’re dating Ollie? When did this happen?” She looks from Hunter to me. “And how many times have I told you to call me Karen?”
“I-i-it’s new,” I stutter.
“I’ve told you this. It’s why we weren’t telling people, Mom,” he reiterates.
“I’m not people, Hunter. I’m your mother.”
She shakes her head as she heads back into the kitchen.
“Are you doing okay?” Hunter asks as he helps me out of my coat.
“Good. Fine. Great. Good.”
He smiles down at me. “One too many goods, Ol.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. C’mon, I’ll get you a drink and that’ll help.”
“Not too many though.” I point at him, following him into the kitchen.
“Are you going to tell me how this happened?” Karen asks as we push open the door into the kitchen.
“I got sick one time and Hunter brought me soup to make me feel better.” I spit it out a little too fast. But my nerves are still getting the best of me.
“My son. What a sweetheart he is. I knew I taught him well. Even if he doesn’t return his mother’s phone calls.”
“Mom,” Hunter groans, burying his face in his hands. “I’m busy.”
“I’m glad I could peel you away from your trees long enough for dinner,” she says.
“You didn’t complain when I brought one over for you.”
“Which reminds me,” she ignores Hunter, “Ollie, since Hunter hasn’t been over to hang his ornament, I saved one for you to hang too.”
“W-w-what?”
An ornament? That seems like something a real boyfriend would do. Damn it. I am his real boyfriend. It’s fake to the two of us, but to everyone else? It’s the real thing.
“It’s fine, dear. Now, can I get you something to drink?”
“I’ll have whatever Hunter is having.”
“You can have whatever you like,” Karen says. “I do have a spiked hot apple cider if you’d like some.”
“Actually, that sounds good.”
“Just not too much, Ol,” Hunter says, nudging me in the elbow.
“Sounds like there is a story there.”
Karen pours three glasses of cider and hands one to each of us.
“I had a few too many drinks at my work party. I was a bit nervous for them to meet Hunter.”
Her gaze snaps to Hunter’s. “His coworkers got to meet Ollie before I met him?”
“Mom, you’ve known Ollie since we were babies.”
“Not as your boyfriend.”
“See!” I slap him on the arm. “I told you it’s different.”
She looks at me. “I swear, I raised him better than this.”
Her smile helps put me at ease. Finally.
“I don’t like you two ganging up on me,” Hunter says before taking a gulp of his cider.
She quirks a brow at him as I hold the warm glass between my hands.
“Deal with it, Hunter. I like Ollie and I’m glad you finally found someone.”
“He did date a lot,” I tell her.
“Excuse me, I am right here,” Hunter interjects. “And I didn’t date a lot.”
Karen beams at me. “He was waiting for you, Ollie.”
“I guess I was.”
Hunter leans over and kisses my cheek.
Holy shit.
It’s something he’s done before dozens of times. We’ve always been affectionate, so why does it feel different now? That same swirly feeling in my gut is coming back.
What in the world? I am not equipped to deal with this. Fake feelings? I can handle those. Real feelings? Those are too murky to want to deal with.
“Ollie, dear?”
“Sorry, what?”
I shake my head, trying to push all the thoughts away. I need to make it through dinner without blowing our cover.
“Do you like Beef Wellington?”
“Oh, yes. Thank you. It smells delicious.”
Dinner is easier than I thought it would be. Karen gives Hunter grief over little things like she always does.
Would this be what it would be like if we did this all the time as boyfriends? Is this what I’ve been missing out on by not having relationships?
My life is good. It will be good after tonight whether Hunter is my boyfriend or not.
Before I know it, we’re in the living room hanging our ornaments.
“I saved these two for you,” Karen says, passing two over to us.
Hunter hands me one that is cotton balls covered in glitter and he hangs an ax on the tree.
“I think my parents might have this same one at home.” I laugh.
I place it on the tree and take in all the different ornaments. Pictures of the two of them at past Christmases. Hunter with a gap-toothed smile when he was a kid. Crystal baubles. It’s a hodgepodge of everything.
I love it.
“I mean, it’s the most basic thing I’ve ever made. Why’d you keep this, Mom?” Hunter asks.
She peeks her head between our shoulders. “I kept every ornament you made. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Maybe that’s why you decided to open the farm,” I say. “You always had a thing for trees.”
“Can you have a thing for trees?” He quirks a brow at me.
“Well, if someone were to have a thing for trees, it’d be you,” I joke.
“Alright.” Hunter rolls his eyes. “Speaking of trees, I have an early morning and need to head home.”
“I’m so glad you both came,” she says.
“Thank you for having us. Dinner was delicious,” I say.
“Ollie, are you going to visit your parents for Christmas?” Karen asks as we slip into our coats.
“I’m staying here this year,” I say.
“Then you can come over on Christmas Day.”
“What? I don’t want to impose.” I adjust my glasses, hating that I’m letting my nerves show.
“Nonsense. I don’t want you to be alone.”
“I—”
“Hunter, I’ll text you the details. I’ll see you boys soon.”
She gives us each a hug before shutting the door behind us.
“So much for one more night,” I mutter, shoving my hands in my pockets.
“You can do one more day, Ol,” Hunter encourages. “Christmas is two weeks away. No big deal.”
“Just until Christmas?”
“Well, at least until after Christmas with my mom.”
“Right. Christmas Day.”
Hunter opens his truck door for me. “Think you can stand hanging with me until then?”
I roll my eyes. “Please. Like that’ll be hard.”
It’ll only be hard if I can’t get my feelings for Hunter under control.