Chapter 26 #2
“You mean on our date? Or afterwards?”
“Both.” Fuck. Was that a growl?
His eyes sparkle with mischief.
“I loved our date, Ethan, and,” he pauses, nibbling on his bottom lip. “And I loved our afterwards, too.”
“That’s… um,” I clear my suddenly very dry throat, “very nice to hear.”
“Yes, especially when you tried on that reindeer sweater. It looked really good on you.”
“I’m sorry, that was the highlight of our date?”
“Among other things,” he says with an air of vague innocence.
“Oh yeah?” I ask, my blood heating up. “Like what?”
“If I tell you, I have the suspicion that we won’t be leaving this apartment.”
“Make that a certainty,” I agree, and he chuckles because he knows I’m serious. “But you’re right. Instead, I would like to collect on that promise you made me.”
A small furrow forms between his eyebrows as he frowns.
“What promise?”
“Well, if I remember correctly, you said that someday you would show me what you’ve made so far with your crocheting.”
His eyes widen as his cheeks turn a faint pink and he starts fidgeting with his sweater.
“You really want to see?”
Fuck, why wouldn’t I want to see? I would want to see anything that he’s made.
My palm covers his hand, stopping his nervous fidgeting.
“I really want to see, Ollie.”
He smiles, and after he puts his mug down, he reaches for the basket I saw earlier.
“I have a couple more things in my closet but these will give you a fairly good idea,” he says and takes out a scarf and matching beanie in shades of brown, both of them looking almost done. There are also a few smaller patterns, like little hearts and yellow flowers.
I may not be any sort of expert, but what I do know is that he has nothing to be nervous about.
“These look beautiful, Ollie. You really made them from scratch?” I ask, doing nothing to mask my awe and admiration because he needs to know how talented he is.
“It’s nothing, Ethan. Anyone can do something like this,” he mumbles in a self-conscious way that makes my heart squeeze.
His eyes drop to his lap and the blue ball of yarn he’s holding, and it’s impossible not to reach for him. Tilting his chin up, our eyes meet in the quiet studio apartment, amidst hot coffee and soft, colorful yarn.
“Not everyone can do it. But you can,” I tell him firmly, never looking away from him. “You’re incredible, you know that?” And fuck, the way he peers at me with his wide, green eyes, full of so much trust makes me need to pull him into my arms and whisper that to him for the rest of my life.
“Thank you,” he says softly, and I smile before I notice something else at the bottom of the basket.
“What’s that?”
Ollie makes a sound that’s closer to a squawk than anything else and swipes the basket from under my nose, throwing it somewhere behind him. And then proceeds to look at me like all this is perfectly normal.
“Ollie?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you going to tell me what that was all about?”
Damn, he’s getting all red, nibbling on his lip, and my fingers itch to touch him.
“You know I can get it out of you, right?” And he only has time to gasp before I’m pulling him on my lap, carefully bypassing everything spread between us.
When he’s all nice and settled on the saddle of my hips and my hands are spanning his waist, I feel like something relaxes inside me.
“Now, are you hiding something from me, sweetheart?” I lean in and nuzzle his neck, loving that even though he showered, there are still traces of my scent and us on his skin.
“I can’t – ah,” he breathes out when I suck on a spot behind his ear. “I can’t tell you. It’s a surprise.”
My eyebrows fly up to my hairline and I blink at him.
“You mean, for me?”
He nods, and my heartbeat starts racing like crazy.
He’s making something for me?
Jesus, why do I feel like my chest is so full it could burst?
One of my hands rises to cup his rosy cheek. “Ollie…”
“So don’t you dare make me spill anything else because if you keep touching me I will and I don’t want to.” He says it in a stern tone but his eyes are twinkling and the last thing I want is to ruin whatever it is that he’s preparing.
“Okay.”
He smiles, his eyes mapping the features of my face. Falling on my lips.
And I feel as if I’m holding my breath as he moves closer, just enough to brush a soft kiss against my mouth.
“I don’t want this day to end,” he confesses hoarsely on my lips.
Fuck, he sounds so dejected, and my hands wrap around him on instinct.
“Spend Christmas with me,” I rasp out, sneaking in another peck.
His breath catches, his head snapping back in surprise, his jewel-green eyes fixed on mine. “What?”
“You’ll pack a few things and I’ll come pick you up a couple of days before Christmas.
We’ll go to the cabin and you’ll help me decorate because I’m shit at it, and we’ll cook and watch movies and do whatever else people do during the holidays.
What do you think?” God, my chest rises and falls as if I’ve been running for miles, the need to hear his answer overriding everything else.
For a moment, his eyes look suspiciously shiny and I’m ready to curse at myself for making him sad. But then his face splits into the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen.
“I love it, Ethan.”
I love you, Ollie, is the only thought I have when I taste the happiness on his lips and let myself be swept away by this lovely and terrifying feeling.