5
I d i d n ’ t e v e n want to get out of bed, but the longer I lay there, the more I felt the laziness creep in. The more I thought about how fast the days were flying by.
Christmas was literally in three days, and I hadn’t bought a damn thing yet. Not for my daddy. Not for Troi. Not for the girls at the salon. And definitely not for the man that was not my man. But… Woods was not not my man either. And that’s where the confusion started. I pressed my palm to my stomach, sucked in a slow breath, and climbed out of bed.
By the time I made it to the bathroom and started brushing my teeth, the memories from last night snuck in. That damn FaceTime with Woods.
His voice was all deep and commanding. That half-lazy smirk when he asked if I wanted this dick or diamonds for Christmas. Those sexy ass dimples. Him talking me through it, telling me to stop playing with him. My toes curling, teeth clenched as I tried to keep quiet in the dark. The way his eyes stayed locked on mine even through the screen, like he was really right there with me.
The hot shower helped clear my head a little, but not enough. I stood under the spray longer than necessary, letting the water beat against my back while I mentally ran through the shops I needed to hit today. Gift swap stuff for the salon girls. Something thoughtful but not over-the-top for Troi. Something decent for my daddy, even though I was still halfway irritated with him for switching up on me this year.
After moisturizing, I threw on my plush robe and headed back into the room. The weather app said snow all day with a wind advisory, so I needed to dress cute but warm.
I pulled on a thick cream-colored sweater that hugged my girls, high-waisted charcoal jeans, and my camel coat with the matching knit scarf. My boots were weatherized, tan suede, mid-calf, and warm as hell. I topped it off with a nude gloss, gold hoop earrings, and a light beat to make it look like I tried, even though I was barely holding it together. I planned to do my hair the following day, so I just slicked it up in a ninja bun.
Outside, snow was falling in thick flakes and the city of Arbor Hills looked like one of those Hallmark postcards. Lights wrapped around the streetlamps. Kids bundled up, tossing snowballs. And every coffee shop had a sign posted in big, bold letters for a peppermint mocha or a sugar cookie latte.
I parked near the downtown shopping plaza and wrapped my scarf tighter as I stepped out into the cold. Snow crunched beneath my boots as I crossed the street toward my favorite local spot, Sippin’ Joint. I needed something warm in my system and a sandwich.
Inside smelled like cinnamon and roasted espresso, the kind of aroma that hugged you as soon as the door closed behind you. The barista who seemed to work every single day with purple box braids and a Santa hat smiled at me from behind the counter.
“Hey! Freezing out there, huh?”
“You know it,” I smiled, blowing into my hands.
“Grande hot cocoa with oat milk, extra whip, sprinkle of cinnamon? Bacon, egg, and cheese as well?”
“Yes, please. Extra cinnamon today. I’m feeling festive.”
She winked and started making it as I stood off to the side, watching couples and solo shoppers shuffle in and out with bags and red noses. Christmas music played low overhead, and the heat inside made me loosen my scarf and unzip my coat.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.