Twenty-Four
Saint
After my mom died, I started coming to the Evergreens’ house for holidays—if they weren’t visiting Winter. Evaline wouldn’t take no for an answer. She said she’d never forgive herself if she left me to celebrate all on my own.
Since there have always been parents doing the cooking and preparations, I never knew how much work goes into it.
Thankfully, Winter and I made a great team today. We cooked the turkey and some of the basic fixings to go with it. Each of our friends brought a side dish too. By the time the food was ready and all the table settings were laid out, everyone had arrived.
She enters the dining room carrying a bottle of wine, and she looks flawless despite all the sweating we’ve surely done as we cooked and cleaned.
Setting the wine on the table, she asks, “Is the turkey finally done?” Sniffing the air, she hums, “Ah, that smells so good.”
I smile at her for a minute before I finally get my bearings. “Yep. I just pulled it out of the oven.”
She does a little happy dance. “I’ll round everyone up. How about you start carving it?”
When I agree, she leaves the room, and her disappearance leaves me bereft.
I’ve always cared about Winter in some shape or form in the past. I’ve even been obsessed with her at some point.
I didn’t think sleeping with her would change things too much, but it’s almost like every feeling I’ve been harboring for her has intensified tenfold.
Get it together, Saint, I chastise myself.
She’ll be back in a minute. But I know when she returns, she’ll have the rest of our friends with her, and I won’t get her all to myself anymore.
Resigned, I head back to the kitchen to start carving the turkey.
I’ll just need to manufacture a way to get her alone again soon.