Evie （Chapter）
Evie
Brandon doesn’t want a relationship. I had a hunch that might have been the case, and I tried to put the brakes on our situationship once I realized what was happening—that I was just becoming another one of his many friends with benefits.
But I couldn’t do it. I’ve tried so hard to keep from going there with him, but I have no self-control, and so it just keeps happening. Overnight, our sweet friendship became something else entirely—something foreign and unmanageable.
This evening, I tried to get him to acknowledge that we could become something so much more than friends who get freaky—and that that’s what I wanted more than anything. A real relationship with him.
But he might as well have spat in my face in response.
We were at the town’s annual Christmas on the Square event with Jamie, Rebecka, Isabelle, and Teddy.
There were Christmas carolers, light displays, a gingerbread house decorating contest, etc.
It was pure magic. The highlight of the event was a horse-drawn carriage ride around the square at nightfall, and I couldn’t wait to appreciate all the twinkling light displays, decorated storefronts, and general Christmas cheer.
Everything was going well until it was time for the carriage ride.
We took a group photo together, and then Rebecka wanted me to snap a photo of her, Jamie, and Isabelle for their family Christmas card.
I obliged, and then I asked her if she’d return the favor for me, Brandon, and Teddy.
I know that was a bold move, but I wasn’t expecting such a frosty response from Brandon.
Jamie gave me an odd look at the suggestion, and that’s when Brandon went stone-cold on me. He took the photo with me, but he wouldn’t wrap his arm around me—even when I sidled up to his side and hinted that I was a little cold.
After the carriage ride, I followed Brandon to Bill’s Baked Goods so he could use the restroom. He didn’t explicitly invite me, but I figured he’d want me to hold Teddy while he did his business. When we got there, I held my arms out, ready to take Teddy.
But Brandon held on to him. My stomach shrank when I noticed the look on his face.
He was mad. I’d never seen Brandon mad before.
“What was that, Evie?” he demanded.
“What was what?” I squeaked, my heart racing.
“Talk of a Christmas card? With me and Teddy?”
I smiled sheepishly, trying to play it cool. But I was sweating like a pig. “What? Too soon?”
Brandon shook his head. “Too soon for what?”
“Going . . . public? About us?” As soon as I said the words, I felt like a fool.
Brandon has reminded me that we’re just friends several times over the past couple of weeks.
But no matter how many times he reiterates himself, this yearning for more won’t go away.
And I knew, as soon as I saw the hard look on his face, that he was going to remind me of the score yet again.
Shifting Teddy in his arms, he explained for the umpteenth time that we’re just friends, his indigo eyes harrowing and unrepentant. He then said we could “stop” if this was becoming too much for me. And by “this,” I’m assuming he meant our friends with benefits situation.
At that, I panicked. Like, really, truly panicked.
Yes, I want more than what he’s giving me, but I don’t want to risk losing what we have, either—even if it hurts.
Even if it will never be enough for me. I mean, sure, we haven’t had sex yet, but .
. . we might as well have. The things we do in private would definitely be rated R, that’s for sure.
I know he’ll expect sex at some point. I guess I’ll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it.
Anyway, I had no choice but to lie and insist this isn’t too much for me. Then I forced a cheery laugh, claiming I’d had one too many gingerbread cookies and that all of that sugar must have gone to my head . . .
He nodded, seeming relieved, and then he reminded me that if it ever does become too much, to just say the word, more or less.
I nodded like a stupid, brainless bobblehead, but there was this look in his eyes that made me feel kind of uneasy.
I don’t think either of us would be capable of slamming the brakes on this runaway train—even if we wanted to.
Fortunately, I don’t think either of us want to.