Noelle
I ’ve never done the whole morning after thing before, and I’m not sure what to expect. Breakfast in bed? A sleepy, spooning repeat of last night? Awkward silence? Regret?
When I wake up to the faint glow of dawn seeping around the curtains, tired and sore but so happy I could levitate, I roll over to find—
An empty bed.
The covers are tossed back on Reid’s side, the sheet wrinkled where he slept. There’s still a dip in the pillow from where he lay his head, but when I smooth out one palm, the bed is cold.
The nerves start in my toes, then skitter up my body. My teeth dig into my lip.
Reid is gone? Like… gone gone?
But—no. My boss wouldn’t leave me here. Not abandoned in a snowy inn, far from other forms of transport, with my body still aching from the way he screwed me last night. Not even Reid Merryweather would be that heartless.
The bathroom door is open, with only shadows inside. I sit up slowly, squinting around the room like Reid might jump out from behind the dresser and yell, “Surprise!”
Nothing. No signs of life.
Only my own strained breaths, getting quicker.
Jeez, did I get last night all wrong? Swinging my legs out of the bed, I wince as my bare feet hit the cool rug. Because I thought last night was this amazing thing we shared, this life- changing experience for us both, one that went on for hours with breaks for talking and laughing in between…
After the first time, Reid buried his head between my legs and made me come with his tongue, just like he promised. And I explored his body too, brought him off with my mouth and hands, before we settled down for slower sex afterward, grinding and deep and desperate.
Flashes from last night flicker through my brain, heating my cheeks. And I sit there at the edge of the bed, lost and lonely, too confused to get my body moving.
My insides are sore. My boss is not a small man, and I can feel where he thrust inside me. He left his mark.
But if Reid has gone… if he’s left me here… what do I do? Does that mean I’m fired too? How will I get home?
And once I’m home, how will I ever get past this knot weighing down my stomach? This leaden weight that says I had my chance at happiness and somehow blew it?
Sheesh. It’s too early for thoughts like these. Rubbing my knuckles in my eyes, I gust out a sigh.
Then leap up with a yelp as the door flies open, Reid striding inside with snow dusting his shoulders.
“I dug out the car.” He’s freshly showered and fully dressed, complete with his long black coat. He tugs on the cuffs as he crosses to the window, then throws the curtains wide. “Anirudh lent me a shovel. Funnily enough, I like him better this morning. Wonder why.”
My boss turns to me with a smirk—which fades as he takes in my bedraggled appearance and slumped shoulders. My hair is a rat’s nest, and I’m dressed only in the pajama shirt, the hem skimming my thighs.
I fiddle with the fabric as he looks at me. Can he see the guilty thoughts I had a moment ago? My lack of faith in him?
“Are you alright?” Reid’s eyebrows pinch together, and the sight of his scowl is soothing, somehow. Familiar. “We don’t need to rush off. You can eat and shower and so on.”
I clear my throat. “Thanks. Very gracious of you, boss.”
But my teasing falls flat—for both of us.
This is alien territory. And everything changed for us last night, changed in a way that means our relationship can never be the same, but we didn’t talk about that. Didn’t agree on a path forward; didn’t say what this means for us. Our mouths were full, you know?
So… am I Reid Merryweather’s girlfriend now? He said he doesn’t do relationships. But if not, will we hook up again? Will we be exclusive? What is happening ? I shiver in the cool light of dawn.
“You’re freaking out,” Reid observes, folding his arms. Those snowflakes are shocking white on his shoulders, melting slowly. “Go and shower, . I’ll find us food, and then you’ll feel better for the drive home. Go on.”
Food.
That’s a good idea.
I stagger to the bathroom, my insides all jumbled up and raw.
* * *
It’s so surreal being in this car again. Driving along the same roads as yesterday, watching the same snowy fields whizz past the window, smelling the stiff leather seats and Reid’s lemon-scented skin. It’s almost identical to yesterday’s journey—minus the Mulberry Inn soap smell—and yet my whole world has turned upside down.
Gah.
This man was inside me last night.
He pinned me down with his weight. Drove his cock into my body until I wept with pleasure, writhing and begging for more. He spanked my ass and pulled my hair and said so many things, such filthy, wondrous things, and now I’m supposed to sit here and make polite chit-chat? Maybe play I Spy?
“You’re blushing.” Reid glances me out of the corner of his eye, that icy blue gaze raking over my body. “And you’re stiffer than a board. , you don’t have to be afraid of me.”
My laugh is strangled. “I’m not scared of you, you big dweeb. I’m just—this is weird. Don’t you think?”
Reid says nothing, frowning out at the highway.
It’s slower progress today, what with the deeper snow heaped at the sides of the road, but the sky above is blue and sunny. Guess the blizzard blew itself out overnight, while we were too lost in each other to notice.
Oh, god. If we never have that again… if that was my only taste…
I’ll die. I’ll curl up and die like a lovelorn bug.
“Tell me something,” I blurt, desperate for a distraction. “Tell me why you hate Christmas.”
“Hard pass,” Reid says, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. We pass a red-painted barn, its roof heaped with snow. “Ask me something else.”
Oh, come on. “But why ? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but can you at least say why?” As we bicker, my stiff back melts against the seat, and my shoulders relax. Yeah, this is better. This is familiar. Safe.
“Because it’s private.”
“Well, duh. That’s the point of telling me.”
Reid is silent for a long time. I wait.
“Because it’s embarrassing,” he confesses at last, glancing at me again. My normally confident boss is unsure. “It’s embarrassing, and you’ll see me differently, and then this,” he waves a hand between us, “will have to end. I don’t want that.”
He doesn’t? Eee!
If there weren’t laws about safe driving, I’d crawl into this man’s lap right now. I’d pepper his cranky, beautiful face with kisses.
Instead, I settle for resting a hand on his thigh. The muscle jumps beneath my touch, but he’s so warm and solid, anchoring me. “I promise that won’t happen.”
Reid scoffs. “So you say.”
The heater hums quietly, warming us both and turning our cheeks a matching pink. My thumb swoops over Reid’s thigh, back and forth, rubbing him gently, and his leg presses into my touch.
“I’ll guess, then.” Now that we’re talking again, touching again, I feel so, so much better—like the world is back on its axis. The giant mound of pancakes probably helped, too. “And I have to assume that one of these reasons is the truth.”
Reid nods. “Go on.”
“You had a pet reindeer once and it bit you.”
“No.”
“A Santa mugged you in an alley.”
Reid’s smiling now, relaxed too. “No.”
“You once wore a thong made of tinsel and it chafed you terribly.”
Reid laughs, low and velvety. “No.”
And I guess it’s okay if I never know the truth, so long as I can keep making this man laugh. So long as he relaxes with me, shooting me those heated looks. Every second with him like this feels so warm and gooey.
But then the humor drops away from Reid’s face, and he sits up straighter. “Actually, it’s nothing so dramatic. I have a large family, . A close family. Well, close—except for me.”
It’s happening! Reid is telling me his baggage. Pressing my lips together, I fight to keep still. To listen. Snowy fields drift past the car windows, and my fingers twist in my lap.
“Growing up in that house, it was always holiday mad. So many decorations, gifts, and family traditions—Easter, Halloween, Christmas, you name it. And as a little boy, one who struggled to make sense of other people sometimes… I didn’t always understand those traditions. I pushed back. Asked too many questions. Made things less fun.”
My heart aches, and I can see it now. Little Reid with a tiny scowl on his face, bristling at being told what to do. At being told to be happy, to be cheerful , without understanding why.
“Over the years, my family got tired of it. Tired of me . Can’t blame them, really, but once I went away to college, the invitations to family events dried up. I’ve spent every Christmas alone since I was eighteen. That’s why I’m a—what did you call me?—a Scrooge.”
My stomach churns, and I’m queasy at the undercurrent of hurt running beneath Reid’s words. The emotional damage that only I can hear. This man wears such armor, and finally, I’m getting a peek at his squishy middle.
“My own family didn’t want me, .” Reid’s hands are white-knuckled where they grip the wheel. “Because I’m a killjoy. So tell me that’s not embarrassing; tell me that doesn’t put you off. Go on.”
And he throws me this look, like he’s daring me to even try. Like it’s unthinkable that I’d find out about that lonely little boy, find out about him , and still want him.
Such bullshit. I suck in a deep breath, puffing up my chest underneath yesterday’s green dress.
“I’m sorry, Reid, but your family are grade A assholes. And you’re not a killjoy. I have fun with you all the freaking time.”
So much fun. Even discounting last night’s pure, sweaty joy, this man makes me laugh all the time. Teases me and lets me tease him back. He walks me home after work and pretends he doesn’t live in the opposite direction; he ‘forgets’ my cat’s name and calls him a fur ball.
He played I Spy and Fuck, Marry, Kill with me. Badly.
He detoured to get me coffee in Aspen Ridge, and watched A Muppet Christmas Carol.
Reid Merryweather has a heart of gold. I called it.
“Yeah?” My boss’s throat works.
I squeeze his thigh, and my heart throbs like a guiding star. “Absolutely.”