Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
MELLIE
It’s Christmas morning.
The savory, smoky aroma of bacon drifts up the stairs through my open door, and I immediately perk up. Who doesn’t love the smell of bacon in the morning?
Evan and Catalina spent the night here last night in his old bedroom across the hall from mine. I knock on their door on my way down, alerting them to the bacon, and pad down the stairs in my fluffy socks and cozy robe.
We spend the morning opening gifts and lazing around the house, A Christmas Story playing on repeat on the living room TV.
My mom has invited Nora and Julian over for dinner this evening, and Ronin texted me to say he and his mother will be joining us as well.
My stomach flutters at the thought of seeing him.
We’ve only communicated through the occasional text message since the cookie party, and with my decision to stay in Blue Fields, everything suddenly feels different.
It feels so good, so normal, to have him back in my life.
At dinner, we discuss my impending move. Evan will pick up a moving truck and drive it down to LA with Dad, and I’ll follow them back with my car on the trip home. I’ve already called my landlord to cancel my lease, and I quit my job. That had felt really good.
I’m looking forward to starting this next chapter of my life.
“So, do you kids have plans for New Year’s Eve?
” My mom directs the question to the table, scooping more mashed potatoes onto her plate.
We’ve all finished eating, but my mom has always loved my mashed potatoes, and she can never resist having seconds.
It’s one of the few things I can actually cook.
“Bree’s having a party,” I answer her. “That’s where I’ll be, at least.”
Evan agrees. “Yeah, us too. Cat and Brooklyn have really hit it off, right babe?” He rests his arm on the back of Cat’s chair as he leans back.
“Yes, I adore her!” Cat gushes. “She has an art studio nearby so we bonded right away. I’m going there before school starts back up to check out what they have, maybe grab some new supplies for my classroom.”
I sit back in my seat, taking in the room filled with so many of my loved ones as they continue chattering around me.
Ronin catches my eye across the table and gives me one of his signature small smiles, the one that pulls up on one corner of his mouth, and recently has been making my insides feel all funny and weird every time he does it.
These new, involuntary physical reactions my body keeps having to him are an adjustment, and I return his smile as I squirm in my chair.
After dinner, Nora, Julian, and Ronin’s mother Georgia head home.
Ronin, Evan, Cat and I sit in the living room, Evan and Cat on the couch facing the TV and Ronin and I on the loveseat by the window.
Ronin is sitting so close to me, his thigh pressed up against mine, and all of my focus has zeroed in on where our bodies touch.
His soap is intoxicating, something deep and musky. Whatever it is, it’s working for me.
Evan sips his beer as he flips through the channels on TV, searching for something to put on. “Anyone have any movie suggestions? There’s nothing good on right now.”
“Um, Die Hard, obviously,” I suggest, waving my beer in the air. “It’s the best Christmas movie, ever.”
Ronin chuckles next to me. “You’re the only one who ever says that, Mel.”
“And that is a damn shame, because it’s the truth!” I cry, the familiar debate rearing its head. “Who says Christmas movies can’t also be amazing action flicks? The entire thing takes place on Christmas Eve, hello!”
Cat tilts her head quizzically. “I’ve never actually seen Die Hard. I had no idea it took place around Christmas.” She turns to Evan and wiggles her eyebrows at him. “Let’s watch it!”
Evan glares at me across the living room, and I toss him a sweet smile. “You’re welcome, by the way, for introducing your girlfriend to a cinematic masterpiece.”
He just snorts before finding the movie on a streaming service.
He’s unfazed, having been subjected to this film too many times to count over the years.
I, on the other hand, am positively delighted to introduce a new person to my favorite movie, so I settle into the couch, leaning into the corner to angle myself toward the TV screen for a better view.
Ronin picks up my legs and drapes them across his lap without looking my way, and my skin warms under my leggings where his hands rest on my shins.
My cheeks flood with heat. I take a sip from my beer to distract myself, hoping he hasn’t noticed my flaming face.
There is no way I will be able to focus on the movie if he keeps his hands there all night.
Not even John McClane can distract me from that—sorry Bruce Willis.
Thankfully—or regretfully, depending on one’s outlook—Ronin doesn’t keep his hands there for long.
One arm settles on the armrest of the loveseat while he holds his beer in his other hand.
I’m not sure what’s making my heart race more: my legs on his lap and the way my mind wanders to what else is in that general area and the things I could do there, or the amazing view I have from this close as he sips from his beer.
I can’t tear my eyes away from his mouth, the way his full lips wrap around the rim of the bottle.
I flush, realizing I’m staring, so I turn back to the movie, determined to focus.
Bruce Willis is making fists with his toes in the carpet on screen, and I attempt to lose myself in the story as I try to ignore the warmth seeping into my skin from Ronin’s close proximity.
It doesn’t work. Every time Ronin shifts in his seat, or readjusts my legs draped over his lap, my heart stutters.
My body is so attuned to his, I can feel every small movement, every light brush of his fingers over my leggings, every subtle shift on the couch that brings him closer to me.
I’m on fire, each nerve ending alight, buzzing with tension.
He turns to me at one point in the movie, one that he knows is a favorite part of mine. Leaning in close, he whispers along with Harry Ellis, “Hans, bubby, I’m your white knight.”
I laugh quietly, and Ronin turns toward me, a smile gracing those full lips. His face is so dangerously close, if I wanted to, I could lean forward…
He studies me, and my gaze dips down to his mouth. His breath catches and breaks the silence between us, the flutter of his exhale infused with the faint, bitter aroma of beer.
Shouts from the television register dimly in my addled mind, the sounds of a scuffle filtering in. I glance back up to meet his stare. His pupils are dilated in the dim lighting of my living room, and the longing in his eyes has my heart racing. I’m frozen in time, unable to look away.
My stomach twists, desire and arousal flooding my senses until all I can focus on is the aching sensation in my core. I can’t seem to control my body’s reaction to him.
This is…something.
“You’re missing the best part,” I whisper, finally breaking his gaze and nudging his arm.
He sits back in the loveseat, giving me some air and a chance to regain some composure.
I take a deep breath as he turns back to the movie, but I don’t miss the small, tiny glances he throws my way for the rest of the night, and the pulsing feeling in my center doesn’t seem to fade away for a long time.