Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Jenna
The week—and weekend—fly by. My Friday night drinks date with Aaron is just as fun as our last few dates.
Maybe more fun, actually, since we’re getting more comfortable with each other and any lingering awkwardness with our initial antagonism is now a thing of the past. It maybe took me a little longer than it should’ve given the way I lightly roasted him on our first date, but I’ve fully accepted that he genuinely does like me, his apology is genuine, and my guard is starting to relax.
“It’s because you’re so used to being with someone who doesn’t like you,” Amanda says when I talk to her on Sunday evening.
“You spent all that time with Ian, who barely tolerated you at best, so you’re A—willing to give a chance to the guy who was mean to you to start with and B—still kind of expect him to keep acting that way. ”
I splutter and flop around on the couch, trying to come up with some kind of defense. But … she’s right.
“Ugh.” I say after a few more seconds. “Shut up.”
She laughs. “I know you hate it when I’m right. But seriously, if he starts being mean again, dump his ass, okay? Promise.”
Rolling my eyes, I shake my head. “I promise.”
“No,” she corrects. “Not in your dumb voice. Say it like you mean it.”
I let out a heavy sigh, sit up, and let my hand whop the throw pillow next to me. “I, Jenna Matthews, do solemnly swear that I will break up with Aaron—”
“Or anyone in the future!” she cuts in, shouting.
“Or anyone in the future,” I repeat dutifully, “who treats me badly. Happy?”
She hums thoughtfully. “I’m not sure I’d say happy, but I’m satisfied.
For now. You better keep me posted, though.
I want to make sure this gentleman act doesn’t stop once you hit some kind of magical deadline.
It’s usually the three month mark, right?
That’s when the act tends to fall apart?
Of course, some assholes break sooner than that.
But I won’t trust him until it’s been at least three months. ”
“Geez, Amanda. So harsh.”
“And you’re not harsh enough,” she shoots back.
Laughing, I lay back down. “You’re probably right. Though I did give him grief for how he acted at first.”
“Good.” She sniffs, and I giggle again.
“I do think he’s genuine, though.”
“Of course you do. He’s making you dinner and kissing the socks off you.”
“Next I need him to kiss the pants off me,” I murmur.
“OOooooh,” she shouts. “Good for you. Get it, girl!”
“I thought you wanted me to give him three months!”
“Before you decide things are serious, I mean. Don’t fall for him in less than three months. It takes at least that long to get to know someone well, and, like I said, for their true self to show up.”
“Assuming they’re not showing their true self from the beginning.”
She hedges a second, humming. “We all try and put our best selves on display in the beginning of any relationship, right? It takes a few months for you both to get comfortable showing your messy sides. Which doesn’t mean that anyone’s bad or lying—though sometimes people are—just that you shouldn’t go too crazy before you get to know him.
But that doesn’t mean you can’t get some in the meantime.
If that’s what you want, of course. No one should make you feel pressured to do anything you’re not ready for. ”
I snort. “Thanks, Mom.”
“You’re welcome.”
I answer the door in leggings, a sweater, and socks when Aaron gets here on Monday morning. I’m still a little groggy, coffee in hand, but I answer the door with a smile.
He grins back at me, gaze moving up and down my body, and if I’m not mistaken, his eyes heat up a little. “Morning,” he says. “You ready?” He holds up a white coat and hot pink snow pants.
Giggling, I step back and motion him in.
Knowing Aaron would be coming over today motivated me to get nearly all my boxes unpacked, and the ones I haven’t actually unpacked are things that I want to keep but don’t necessarily need out anyway—sentimental little things, certificates from school and thank you notes from clients who especially liked my work, so those boxes are stacked in my oversized closet.
Which makes my apartment feel a lot less cluttered, but also more empty.
My lack of decor is more obvious now that there aren’t boxes and random bits of clutter everywhere.
At least I have my Christmas tree up. I finally made it to The Christmas Emporium over the weekend, and I stayed up late last night putting all the finishing touches on my space.
Sarah actually stayed late so I could get things.
I texted her the other day and let her know I wanted to stop by but was having trouble finding time.
And when I still hadn’t made it on Saturday, she found me and told me to come by when the festival closed for the night and I could get whatever I needed then.
She also gave me the employee discount, which was super sweet.
Aaron steps inside, taking in my space from the tiny fake Christmas tree acting as the centerpiece for my dining table to the garland draped over the entry to the little hall that leads to my bedroom to the tree in the corner of the living room, giant bow as a tree topper, ribbons spilling down the sides, and a mix of sentimental and generic ornaments on the tree.
I got a stocking and hung it on a stick-on hook on the wall.
“Your stocking doesn’t have your name on it,” Aaron says, sounding almost offended.
I laugh lightly. “I mean, I’m the only one here, so it’s not like it could belong to anyone else.”
“True,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “Still. It doesn’t seem right.”
I shrug. “My sewing is limited to quick fixes like putting buttons back on and pinning up holes. Nothing fancy enough to attach my name to a stocking.”
“There’s iron-on stuff.”
Tilting my head, I glance at the stocking. “I guess that’s true. I didn’t really think about it. I just got the stocking the other day.”
He’s still frowning at the stocking, and I’m not sure why that’s such a sticking point for him. I was just happy to get one.
“It’s not like anyone’s going to fill the stocking,” I add. “Again, it’s just me. I’m not going to put stuff in it myself. That just seems silly.”
That seems to only make his frown deepen, and I’m not sure what to make of that, so I opt to change the subject. “Want some coffee? I’m afraid I haven’t been up very long, so I’m still finishing mine.”
His frown smooths away, and he smiles at me again, draping the snow gear over the back of a dining room chair. “Sure. Coffee sounds great. Sorry for planning something before noon on your day off. I take it you like to sleep in?”
Pulling a mug out of the cabinet, I fill it with coffee. “I do. Cynthia was right when she said ChristmasFest is a marathon. Not that I didn’t believe her, but that first week didn’t seem so bad. Now that we’re into the middle of it, all the long days are starting to catch up with me. I’m tired.”
His frown comes back, and he shakes his head when I hold up the sugar.
“Just a splash of cream, thanks. Or half and half. Or milk. Whatever you have.” As I’m pulling out the half and half, he steps closer.
“Would you rather stay home today? We can just stay here and watch a movie or something more relaxing. I don’t want you to wear yourself out. ”
“No. Absolutely not. You promised me sledding. I’ve only been a few times ever, so I’ve been looking forward to this.”
His fingers brush mine as he takes the coffee from my hand, a smile finally replacing that frown of his.
“Good. I’ve been looking forward to it too.
” Then he dips his head and gives me a quick kiss.
It’s too quick, though, and he seems to think so too because he kisses me again, longer this time.
There’s a soft thunk, and then his arms wrap around me, and I realize he must’ve set down his mug.
He pulls me closer, one hand on my lower back pressing our torsos together completely, bending me back slightly.
My arms reflexively wrap around his neck, hanging on to keep my balance and hold myself against him too.
His tongue slides along my lower lip, and I open for him, sliding my tongue against his.
After a moment, he turns down the heat on the kiss, giving me another chaste peck or two before pulling away completely. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he murmurs, reaching for his coffee, eyes twinkling, “but if I don’t stop, I’m not sure we’ll make it sledding.”
Trying to hold back my grin, I nod and refill my own mug, adding a little sugar and half and half. He watches me intently, and I raise an eyebrow at him before sipping my coffee. “We can put a pin in that and get back to it later.”
He grins over the rim of his mug. “I can get on board with that.” Pulling out his phone, he checks the time. “Just so you know, though, I have to pick up my son from school at three thirty, so I have a hard end time once again.”
I glance at the clock on the microwave over my stove. “Good thing it’s barely past ten. We have loads of time.”
“We do.” He sips his coffee, and I take mine into the living room.
“We can sit for a few minutes, if you don’t mind. Once we’ve finished our coffee and the caffeine’s kicked in, we can go. Is the sledding spot far?”
Following me, he shakes his head, sitting on the center cushion of the couch and setting his coffee on my vintage white coffee table. He touches the edge of it. “This is pretty.”