Chapter 6 #2
She’s running before I can blink, weaving through clusters of students with reckless abandon, and then she’s throwing herself into my arms with such force I nearly stumble backward.
“You’re here! You’re here! I’ve missed you so much!” she squeals, squeezing me tight enough to crack ribs.
I laugh, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “I missed you, too, kiddo.”
She pulls back, a thousand-watt smile lighting her face, and then she notices Alexander standing beside me. Her expression shifts instantly—narrowed eyes, raised chin, pure teenage suspicion.
“Who’s this?” she asks bluntly, not even trying to be subtle as she looks him up and down.
“Sophie, this is Alexander,” I say. “My boyfriend.”
Her eyes widen. “Your boyfriend? When did you get a boyfriend?”
I feel a twinge of guilt, hating that I have to lie to my sister. “Just after New Year’s.”
“Oh,” Sophie says, in a tone that somehow manages to pack twenty questions into a single syllable. She studies him with the intensity of a scientist examining a new specimen. “You never said.”
Fortunately I’m spared from replying because Alexander greets her. “It’s nice to meet you, Sophie.”
“You, too,” she murmurs thoughtfully. “You’re pretty good-looking. Better than that ugly-ass loser Chase.”
“Sophie!” I reprimand her with a frown. “Language!”
“What?” She shoots back, a scowl on her face.
“He is an ugly-ass loser. He’s been going everywhere with Amber.
Did you know Amber had Uncle Frank pressuring Dad into making sure you come home this Christmas?
He was pretty mean to Dad about it, and Dad was angry for days.
He didn’t want to call you, but Uncle Frank then went to Gam-Gam, and Gam-Gam was all like ‘What if this is my last Christmas,’ and Dad cried over that, but I told him she always says that—”
“Sophie, stop.” I put my hands on her shoulders. “Breathe.”
My sister takes a deep breath, and then launches right back into the story. “Anyway, Mom said you’re a big girl, and she was really happy that you weren’t with Chase because he’s kind of a dick—”
“Sophie!” I scold her now. “Where did you learn to talk like this?!”
My sister shuts up, giving me a sullen look. “I’m not a baby. Everyone talks like this.”
“Not you.” I pinch her cheek. “And don’t worry about Amber and Chase. I’ll deal with them.”
My sister looks Alexander up and down and snickers. “You levelled up. This is your boss, right? I’ve seen his picture on your phone. You know, the screenshot of his photo from that Gala last year, and you said he looked really—”
“Okay.” I clap my hand over her mouth, my face feeling hot. “That’s quite enough out of you, you little chatterbox.”
“How interesting,” Alexander murmurs, his eyes glinting.
Sophie pulls my hand away from her mouth, giving me a rueful look. “I thought he knew. What about the—?”
“Sophie, shut up,” I groan.
She mimics zipping her mouth, and Alexander just smiles. “I have something for you, Sophie.” He holds out the shopping bag from the jewelry store, and my jaw drops.
“Wait, that’s why you went in there?!” I exclaim.
Alexander ignores me, focusing on Sophie. “A small greeting gift,” he says.
Sophie eagerly pulls out an elegant box, and my eyes widen in horror. Winter Wonderland Jewelers is notorious in Silverbell Hollow for being ridiculously overpriced, especially during the Christmas season. Their jewelry is all customized and flawless, but their prices are too much.
“Alexander,” I hiss. “You didn’t need to—” But my sister’s already opening the box, revealing a snowflake bracelet with small crystals and a delicate chain, perfectly sized for a teenager’s wrist.
Sophie’s eyes go round. “Whoa.”
“Alexander,” I say reproachfully, “that’s too much.”
He shrugs, completely unrepentant. “I’ve never had a younger sister before, so I thought I would take advantage of this opportunity to spoil yours. Do you like it, Sophie? I didn’t know what you would prefer.”
Sophie grins, slipping the bracelet onto her wrist. “Jewelry’s fine,” she says, admiring how it catches the light.
“I also like baking supplies, mystery books, and vintage band t-shirts. Oh, and those fancy colored pens for bullet journaling. And chocolate-covered espresso beans, but Mom won’t let me have those. And—”
I clamp my hand over her mouth again. I’m going to have to start carrying a roll of duct tape with me. “Don’t listen to her,” I tell Alexander, mortified by my sister’s blatant hint-dropping.
Sophie pulls my hand away, undeterred. “Also, I’ve been wanting to learn photography, and noise-canceling headphones would be great for when Olivia visits because she talks in her sleep—”
“That’s enough!” I cut her off, my cheeks burning. “For god’s sake, Sophie.”
She just smirks up at me, then loops her arm through mine. “I’m kidding. Mostly.” She twists her wrist, watching the snowflake bracelet sparkle. “But this is pretty awesome. Thanks, Alexander.”
I sigh, exasperated, but can’t help smiling at the sight of my sister’s delight.
When I glance up at Alexander, he’s watching us with a peculiar expression—softer than I’ve ever seen him, something almost wistful in his eyes.
Our gazes meet, and I sigh. There’s no point in telling him to stop. It’s not like he’ll listen to me.
“Come on. Let’s go home.” I take Sophie’s schoolbag only for Alexander to pluck it from my hands.
As Sophie walks between the two of us, I catch her glancing at Alexander, a curious look in her eyes. She never liked Chase despite growing up around him. Sophie has always been astute. Maybe she saw something I didn’t.
It doesn’t matter at this point. It’s been a year since I saw my family. I don’t want to let Amber and Chase ruin it for me.
I sling my arm around Sophie’s neck pulling her into me as we walk, murmuring, “I really did miss you, you little brat.”
She beams up at me. “I missed you more.”
Looking down at her sweet face, I recall Alexander’s question of whether or not I miss my home. At times like this, I guess I do.
* * *
My boss soon learns that my family is very chaotic.
Dad’s already home when we get back with Sophie, and while Sophie disappears into her bedroom, my father decides to clear a space in the living room for the tree.
I’m exhausted at this point and can barely keep my eyes open as Alexander and my father move furniture around.
Dad’s like a drill sergeant when Christmas rolls around.
Everything has to be perfect. Well, now Dad has met his match in Alexander—both are perfectionists down to their bones.
From my perch in the armchair, I watch them debate the optimal configuration for our furniture to accommodate “the perfect tree.”
“The couch should be angled toward the fireplace,” Alexander insists, hands on his hips like he’s reviewing architectural plans rather than my parents’ modest living room. “That way, when you’re sitting, the tree is perfectly framed by the window.”
Dad nods thoughtfully. “You’ve got a good eye, son. But what about traffic flow from the kitchen? Carol will be bringing in hot cocoa and cookies constantly. It’s not Christmas without hot cocoa and cookies.”
I curl deeper into the armchair as they continue strategizing, their voices mixing with “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” playing on the ancient radio in the kitchen.
My eyelids grow heavy, the exhaustion of travel, confronting Chase and Amber, and the constant tension of pretending with Alexander finally catching up to me.
“Look at Livie. She’s out like a light,” I hear Dad say, his voice warm with affection. “She must be tired from the trip.”
I want to protest that I’m awake, but my body betrays me as I drift deeper into sleep. I vaguely register the front door opening, Mom’s cheerful greeting, something about dinner, but I can’t muster the energy to respond.
Then strong arms slide beneath me, lifting me with surprising gentleness. I instinctively curl against a solid chest as Alexander picks me up.
“I’ve got her,” Alexander’s voice rumbles, the vibration against my cheek oddly comforting.
Someone—Mom, probably—murmurs something about “how sweet” and “perfect together,” but I’m already sinking back into darkness.
* * *
It’s dark when I wake up. For a moment, I can’t remember where I am. It takes me a few seconds to realize I’m not in my Manhattan apartment but in my childhood bedroom. Then I feel it: warm breath against my forehead, a heavy arm draped over my waist, and a leg tangled between mine.
Holy. Shit.
My body goes rigid with panic. There’s someone in my bed. There’s a man in my bed.
Eyes widening, I’m about to scream when I feel the arm tighten around me. Lifting my head slightly, I find myself face-to-face with a sleeping Alexander Castellano. My head rests on his bicep, and we’re so close I can count his eyelashes.
My heart races wildly. Why is he in my bed? My pulse thunders in my ears as I try to process the situation. I try to shift away, but Alexander’s arm tightens around my waist in his sleep, pulling me closer against his chest. I freeze, not daring to breathe.
I’m still wearing my clothes, thank god, but Alexander...
Oh, god. Alexander isn’t wearing a shirt.
Panic floods me anew as I realize I can feel bare skin beneath my fingertips where they rest against his chest. If he’s not wearing a shirt, what else might he not be wearing? My heart pounds as I carefully lift the blanket, peering underneath.
Relief washes over me—He’s wearing sweatpants. Dark ones that sit low on his hips, but pants nonetheless. I drop the blanket and take a steadying breath.
“Find what you were looking for?” his sleep-rough voice asks, amused, making me nearly jump out of my skin.
“I thought you were asleep!” I hiss, mortified.
“I was,” he murmurs, eyes still closed. “Until someone started checking me out under the blanket.”
“I was not checking you out,” I protest, though my face burns. “I was making sure you were... decent.”
One corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk. “And? Verdict?”
“You’ll do,” I say, trying to reclaim some dignity. “Why’re you in my bed?”
“You’d make your boss sleep on the floor?” Alexander’s voice is still laced with sleep, and he’s still not bothered opening his eyes. “I’ll be sure to remember that when I sign your bonus check next month.”
“Alexander!”
In response, he pulls me impossibly closer. “Go to sleep.”
“I can’t,” I complain, flustered. “Not with you plastered to me like that.”
His eyes flicker open. “I’m not sleeping on the floor, Olivia. And you’re the one who started clinging to me. Besides, now that we’re in it, the bed is a little smaller than I expected. We’re going to have to sleep more closely.”
I try to push him away from me. “Fine. Then I’ll sleep—”
His grip on me tightens. “No. Stop squirming and go back to sleep.”
I glare up at him. Why is he so comfortable in this position? Doesn’t it bother him in the slightest? I groan, and he murmurs, “If you want to keep me up, I’m sure there are more creative ways in which we can spend our time.”
“Alex—” My face is burning at the sly edge to his voice.
“I’m kidding,” he chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest against my palm. “If your sister or mother come in, do you want them finding out we don’t share a bed?”
“N-no.”
“Then go back to sleep.” His voice is tired, and I sigh. Everytime he does something out of character, he has the most perfect explanation for it.
Alexander’s breathing soon returns to the deep, steady rhythm of sleep, and I find myself watching him in the moonlight filtering through the curtains. I guess he was also tired.
Calming my heart down, I look at his sleeping face, and my mouth feels dry.
I carefully trace his features in the air, my fingers lingering, careful not to touch him.
He’s very handsome, I muse. The sharp jawline, those long eyelashes, the way all that controlled intensity has melted away in his sleep.
I wonder what it’s like to be actually loved by this man.
To have all that intensity, all that focus, directed at making someone happy instead of closing another deal or acquiring another company.
I’m getting a taste of it, and I like it.
I’ve always thought Alexander was attractive.
When I first saw him, my heart skipped a beat.
But then working alongside him, I realized that his entire life was his work.
I thought the reason he went through the women I’d assumed were his girlfriends was to shut his parents up.
They’ve been pushing him to settle down.
Why am I not surprised that he never once considered any of those women to be his partner?
They would be around for a month or so, then never come again.
Just pretty accessories on his arm, never allowed into his real life.
Alexander just wants to focus on his business.
Building his empire matters more than building relationships.
“What a waste,” I murmur, and my heart pangs. “You’re so good at acting that one would think you studied theatre. You almost have me believing this is real.”
Just one day together, and I’ve had to constantly remind myself this is not real. His touches, his thoughtfulness—none of it is mine. He’s playing a role, and I just need to cooperate with him.
I watch him sleep. My parents will be really upset when at some point I tell them things are over between us. They already adore him after just one day. I feel a tightness in my chest at the thought, but I ignore it.
He’s helping me, and that should be enough. Getting me through this nightmare with Chase and Amber. In return, I’ll try to be an amazing girlfriend in front of his parents. His mother already knows me, though not in the way she’ll soon think she does.
I sigh and murmur, “I could get used to this new Alexander.”
As I surrender to sleep, nestled against Alexander Castellano like I belong there, I feel him pull me closer.
Just twenty-seven days left.