33. Will
Chapter thirty-three
Will
Stephs’ yell wakes me. And true to her word, when I flip back the curtains, I see it’s the ass-crack of dawn.
Twenty frantic minutes after her first shout, Steph shoves Matt and I outside into the frigid air to get decorating supplies. We are under strict instructions from Mia to spare no expense.
Matt tosses me the keys. “You drive, I’ll be the passenger princess.”
We drive in silence until we get onto the main road.
“How are things with Mia? You two seemed cozy enough on the couch last night.” I sneak a glance at him, wondering whether he caught us last night holding hands under the blanket. I can’t believe this is something I’m worried about, like I’m a naughty fucking teenager. I can’t tell from the look on his face.
I shake my head. “It’s weird. Like she wants to give things a go together, but she can’t bring herself to do it.” I flick on the indicator, hoping this is the street the supermarket is on. “I want her, but I need to know she’s all in, you know?”
I see Matt nod out of the corner of my eye. “I get it.” He stretches, yawning. “Fuck it’s early. Steph is intense. Have you and Mia spoken about it?”
“Nah. I want to, but she’s busy with work stuff.” I leave things vague, not wanting to ruin Mia’s big reveal. “Maybe I’ll try to find some time this weekend.” She’ll be relieved after she tells everyone about her new life with the resorts. If things go well, and I have no reason to think they won’t, maybe I’ll try to talk to her about it later tonight.
“Yeah—about that. Obviously she’s brought us here to tell us some news, right? This about her inheritance?”
I steal a glance at him. His face gives nothing away. “I mean—yeah. But you have to swear you won’t say anything.”
Matt’s laugh is deep and rich. “We’re not stupid, mate. Steph’s had theories going for ages, but she doesn’t want to bring it up until Mia does, because—well, you know how Mia is.”
I think it through. I could do with Matt’s help. “Alright—but you swear this is just between us?”
“Of course.”
Trees topped with snow fly by us as we drive down the long straight road. “She’s going to tell you guys that she’s taken time off work and she’s going to run the resorts for a while. I’ve been helping her work through her business plan.”
Matt looks over at me, and raises his eyebrows. “You’re giving the woman you’ve had a crush on for a decade business advice?”
I shrug self-consciously. “I wanted to help.”
Matt twists in his seat. “But dude, isn’t that always your problem? You want to help, you want to be accommodating, you want to be easy breezy and never say no, but fuck, do you even want to be giving her business advice? Or do you want to be giving her something else?” I ignore his suggestive waggling eyebrows.
I think about that for a moment. “I don’t mind helping her. This isn’t a Maggie situation where I’m just agreeing to fucking pottery classes to make her happy. But you’re right, I do want more with her.”
I want her, and I think she wants me. I think she’s scared. “But she’s going through a lot,” I say, pulling into the parking lot. “I don’t want to make things harder for her right now.”
“Right. Well, your secret's safe with me,” Matt says, unbuckling his seatbelt. He reaches for the doorhandle. “But why do you have make all the sacrifices?”
He slams the door behind him, and I sit for a moment. In some ways, Matt has hit the nail on the head. I completely lost myself in my relationship with Maggie, and I’d done things because she wanted to, even if I didn’t want to—pottery was just one of many examples. But with Mia, I honestly don’t mind helping her with the resorts. In some ways, it’s great for my career to be working on such a big business. It isn’t the only thing I want, though. I want what we had last night. I want the comfort of going to sleep next to her, and knowing I’ll get to do it again tomorrow, too. I want to be the person she comes to for advice, and help and comfort, but also when she wants a good, hard fuck.
I have to talk to her about where this is going. I can’t spend another ten goddamn years waiting for her to decide whether she wants me.
When we get back from shopping, Steph, Chloe and Mia have a production line going in the kitchen. Steph is arranging batches of ingredients, Mia is mixing each batch, and Chloe is rolling the gingerbread out into sheets and supervising it in the oven. They have almost twenty sheets of gingerbread baked and ready for our gingerbread house making competition.
Picking up a box of blueberry jelly mix, Chloe asks, “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s this for?”
Matt rolls his eyes theatrically, looking at me. I roll my eyes back, shaking my head. “There’s zero chance you’re winning this competition, Clo,” Matt says, a cheeky grin spanning his face. “You can use the jelly crystals sprinkled over stuff for an icy sparkle. You can also melt it in the windows of your house to make proper windows.”
I interrupt, “I was going to make a pond in the backyard. That’s why we have lime and blackcurrant too, so I can mix a good pond color.” I hold up two other boxes of jelly crystals, then toss them back into the pile.
“Oh good, you got chocolate fingers,” Steph says, snatching a long thin biscuit from the bowl. “These will be good for structure, I reckon!” She crunches into the chocolate-covered gingernut.
“You’ve got every possible edible decoration.” Mia holds up a bag of licorice all-sorts. “And a bunch of things that I can’t wait to see how you’ll decorate with them.” I notice her hand is shaking. All I want to do is give her a hug, and tell her everything will be okay. Instead, I return her a tight smile.
Mia hands the bag to Chloe, who splits the lollies between two bowls. “This is why I told Steph it was a bad idea to send you two unsupervised.” Chloe opens yet another bag of sweets and pours them into one of the many bowls she has stacked on the counter. “At least we’ll have snacks for later.”
“We’ll have snacks for the rest of the year, at this rate.” Steph drips green food coloring into the royal icing she was beating.
By the time Steph and Chloe are done sorting the lollies, and Mia is taking the last six sheets of gingerbread from the ovens, Matt and I have finished assembling all of our tools, which includes rulers, paper and pencils for designing our structures, edible ink pens and tiny graters so we can measure, cut and smooth our gingerbread to make perfectly designed houses.
“Alright, everyone. No more messing around—it’s time to start decorating!” She claps her hands.
Matt clears his throat. “Your attention please.” He holds up circular cake boards. “This is the area you have to make your masterpiece. And be careful, we only got enough for one each, so if you break it, you’ll be taping it back together.” He brandishes a roll of duct tape in the other hand.
“Let’s go!” Steph shouts.