32. Mia
Chapter thirty-two
Mia
“Holy fuck!”
“Jesus Christ, Steph, do you mind?” Matt covers his ears with both hands, causing general commotion given he’s the one driving. The cabin has come into view as our massive people mover of a rental car snakes its way up the driveway.
She’s right though, the house is spectacular. It’s a two-story wooden house tucked back down a long driveway, nestled in the trees. There are three steps up to the front door, and on each side of the porch are two modestly sized pines in large pots, decorated with only twinkling Christmas lights. The giant red wreath on the front door glinted as the lights on either side of the door sparkled.
Matt pulls the car up right near the front door and we pile out, eager to explore. We slip off our shoes and delight in the pleasant surprise of heated flooring; an absolute novelty. I suppose that’s what I get when renting the newest, most modern-looking of the options Abigail found. The giant entranceway has a double-height ceiling with large skylights. It would be a perfect place to stargaze while staying warm inside. Straight ahead is the living area and kitchen, complete with a covered back porch right off the side of the living room. Right now, it’s lit only by the glow of the moon reflected off the snow in the backyard. There are no clouds tonight, which makes it bitterly cold, but gives a perfect view of the stars.
“Holy shit, those trees look like the ones they have at department stores,” Matt says from within the living room. “This was such a good find, Mia. And so cheap.” He narrows his eyes at me as I round the corner to the living room. I almost don’t care whether I’m busted about how much I spent on this place. The important thing is we’re all here.
And he’s right, too. The trees are massive, the tops centimeters from touching the ceiling. Both are decorated primarily in silver with a few gold decorations sprinkled throughout as tasteful interest. Thick velvet ribbons twist their way through the branches, making it look like the trees themselves are encircled in ribbon. There are a few white lights randomly twinkling from deep inside the tree.
It's stunning.
Chloe has flopped herself on the couch, enveloped in pillows and a (hopefully fake) white fur blanket.
“I’m not moving all weekend,” she declares, closing her eyes and nestling her chin into her chest.
The decorators Abigail organized have added tasteful decor items to the white kitchen, three massive white pillar candles on a wooden tray, which is adorned with small pinecones and sprigs of something green. I light the candles before exploring the rest of the house.
I head upstairs, almost crashing into Will.
“Hi,” I breathe.
“Hi.” His hand is on my hip where it landed when we collided. We both look to where he’s touching me. It doesn’t seem to matter what my heart says, my body always reacts to him. There’s nothing I can to do to stop the heat blooming from where he’s holding me. I pull away. I can’t deal with my want for him right now.
“What’s the room situation upstairs?” Steph yells, snapping us out of our private moment.
“Three more bedrooms, two ensuites and a big bathroom.” Will yells back. “There’s a basket of bath bombs in the main bathroom,” he says more quietly, just to me. The way his eyes are roaming my body, I wonder whether he’s imagining me in the bath, surrounded by bubbles. I can’t stop myself from wondering what it would be like to have a bath with him.
“I bags one of the rooms with the ensuite!” Steph shouts.
“Me too!” Matt replies.
“You can’t make me walk upstairs, I’m on holiday.” Chloe’s voice is distant. She must be still on the couch.
As the others unpack and pee and explore the house, I head into the kitchen to put out snacks for everyone. The candles make the place smell like Christmas; pine, orange, cinnamon, cloves. It’s perfect, except for the dread creeping through my stomach. I can’t put off telling my friends for much longer, but here, everything is perfect. I don’t want to break the spell.
We’d eaten an early dinner on the road, but had agreed on the way that tonight is going to be movie night, and you can hardly have movies without snacks. When she smells popcorn cooking, Chloe finally peels herself off the couch and starts making what she calls ‘hot shotties’ which are, in fact, simply decadent-looking hot chocolates, seemingly half-filled with mini marshmallows and separately, shots of Bourbon.
We all settle on the couch to watch The Holiday , the first on Steph’s movie list.
I end up snuggled in the corner of the couch with a giant red blanket tucked around me. This couch is luxurious, but almost impossible to get up from. Will is next to me on one side, and Matt is on the other. Over the course of the movie, Will pulls more of the blanket over his lap too, and tucks his feet up so his body is positioned toward me. He slides his hand over the sofa to me, finding my thigh and resting his hand on me. Resisting what I want so much takes an incredible amount of energy. I just want to lean in and see where that gets us. But if I do—what would that mean for us? For our friend group? For the future?
I doubt anyone is paying attention, but it somehow feels like he’s touching me out in the open. Chloe seems to be napping on the far side of the couch, and Steph is curled up on her side watching the movie, the light from the TV illuminating her face as she watches.
Something about the way our touch is so gentle feels much more boyfriend/girlfriend than previously. Mostly, we've either been frantic and extremely sexual, or, at least in the case of our latest evening kissing under the stars event, it had been something Will had planned and pursued intentionally.
This though; this is simply holding hands, sitting with our hands resting on each other’s thighs, surrounded by our best friends. It’s touch, but not sexual touch. Every time I glance over at Will, he gives me a small smile, and a little squeeze on my leg or hand. I’m barely able to concentrate on the movie. instead I’m watching Will and the way he watches me back, the light dancing across his face, the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows, the way he squeezes my hand extra when he laughs as Kate Winslet acts as the go-between when talking to Jude Law and Cameron Diaz. I know how attractive Will is, of course; I’m not blind. But I’ve never let myself see it; as far as I’m concerned, he's just a guy I kissed once back at university and we became friends. And now we’re friends, he’s off limits. At least, he has been, until these last few weeks.
Why would he be doing this if he doesn’t want anything more? This is ‘relationshipy’, not just sexual. So, what, has he changed his mind? Or is this the lead-up to something more, is he going to make a move? Would I mind if he did? I over think every movement, every sigh, every squeeze. Is he waiting for me to make the next move?
The movie finishes and Steph turns on the lights before I realize what’s happening. Will slips his hand away from mine, casually stretching his arms above his head with a big yawn. The warm patch on my thigh where his hand was practically begs him to return.
“Okay, everyone, off to bed! We’ve got an early morning tomorrow, the shoppers need to be ready to leave here by eight sharp, otherwise we’re not going to have time to make the gingerbread.” She claps her hands twice as if she’s a schoolteacher rousing a class of unenthusiastic students. “Let’s go!”
Chloe simply groans and rolls over, snuggling her head deeper into the couch.