Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Bellamie
Starla pretends to look at the new selection of blouses while I wrap up with a customer, but I know she’s far more interested in why I sent the ‘big question, need to meet’ text.
“Spill it,” Jolene says as she rushes through the door. The second she sees the customer approaching, she apologizes, but the woman isn’t concerned.
Jolene holds the door for her, and while I’m certain a completely rational amount of time has elapsed, it seems to take forever for the woman to leave and the door to close itself.
“Okay, now spill it. What’s going on? Are you okay?” Jolene’s questions come too fast to answer. She’s usually the one to send overly dramatic text messages, not receive them.
Starla and I share a laugh at the tables being turned.
“I’m fine.” Ironically my voice wavers. “Mostly.”
“Whatever it is, we’re here for you.” Starla gives me a hug. “Are you getting cold feet about the auction?”
“No, it’s not that.”
“Do you want to give up your life and run away with Krampus, who I might mention you stole from me?” Jolene shakes a finger at me playfully.
“You’re closer than Starla.”
Jolene sits onto the counter. “Really? I was joking.”
“I said closer, not correct.”
“Do tell, this sounds intriguing.” Starla pushes Jolene’s legs to the side so she can stand opposite me.
Turning my attention to the pile of clothes Krampus bought me, I remind myself that I didn’t imagine it. “A guy came into the store earlier and the whole exchange seemed kind of weird.”
“Oh no, did a creeper come in to fondle women’s underwear again? Now you wish Krampus was here to protect you?”
I shake my head at her. “Krampus was here. He was the guy who came in.”
Her smile drops. “He tracked you down? Is he a creeper?”
“He’s really nice in person… as a person. He said he asked around, found out where I worked, and wanted to know if I’d go on a theoretical date with him.”
“He’s going to be into some kinky shit. Those ropes and–” Jolene’s words cut off when Starla slaps her leg.
Starla asks, “Did you say yes?”
“I didn’t answer.”
“Why not?” Starla and Jolene both ask.
“It was theoretical.”
“What is a theoretical date?” Starla asks.
“I told him I couldn’t go on a date right now, so he asked about a theoretical date.”
“Which means he was asking you on a date anyway.” Jolene gets tired of turning to talk and hops back to standing.
Starla nods in agreement. “So, theoretically, was he as hot in person as he was as Krampus?”
I worry my lower lip, trying to distract myself from how he makes me feel. “I suppose.”
“So that’s a yes,” Jolene clarifies for me. “Which leaves me confused as to why you told him you couldn’t date.”
“The auction.” It feels odd to me that I have to explain that.
“It’s a date, not sex,” Starla says.
“It’s a dead end. The auction is in less than a week.”
“You have to go… do it for me, pah-lease.” Jolene puts her hands together as if in prayer.
Starla and I laugh at her dramatic response.
“So both of you would go on the date? You wouldn’t feel bad about leading a guy on?”
“Oh sweet, starry-eyed Bellamie, dating apps wouldn’t exist if people fell in love after one date.” Jolene has been on her share of dates but never felt a connection, which was her way of saying, she’d prefer her stepbrother.
“She’s right.” Starla takes her side.
“I sure am, and I think this date is exactly what you need to prime you for the auction. Help you have eyes for someone other than your stepbrother. Like Starla and her dad’s bestie, Cullen.”
Starla slaps Jolene’s arm. “Stop. He was just being–”
“He was just coming on to you. I was there. I saw it. I swooned.” I appreciate the chance to turn the tables. She’s right, we’ve all been so obsessed over our stepbrothers, we’ve made it impossible for guys our age to measure up.
Starla’s too flustered to respond for a moment. “Do I need to remind you who sent the text with an urgent question? I think you wanted us to give you permission.”
A customer enters and my friends pretend to shop, but more customers enter and Starla and Jolene end up having to leave.
But I think I have my answer.
With all of the flutters in my tummy, there's no way I can finish the lamb gyro. It’s still not real to me that I’m sitting beside Krampus at a picnic table on our theoretical date. His presence does things to me–pretty much the same things as when he tied me up and spanked me.
If it wasn’t for Jolene and Starla, I never would have shown up since Krampus made it clear that he was being theoretical. But my besties made it clear that I needed to trust that a guy could like me, and that he wouldn’t be so specific if he didn’t mean it.
I also got the sense that they worried if I wouldn’t go out with a guy, I might not go through with the auction.
But they aren’t the only ones to blame. I wanted to come–badly enough that I lied to my parents to get out of spending an evening with them.
Of course, going on a date, theoretically, is the easy part. Small talk is what will bring an end to the fun. He’ll ask what I want to do with my life. I’ll tell him I want to be a mom. He’ll run for the hills. I guess pregnancy takes all the fun out of sex.
But he’s leaving town, I have to stay a virgin for Friday, and we’re not really on a date, so all is well. I take one final bite, wrap the rest up, then decide not to stick it in my purse for later.
I can't believe I'm sitting here with him–all six feet whatever of him. Shorter than however tall he was in the costume with those huge horns, but without the costume, the bulge of his muscles against the sleeves of his hoodie offers a new temptation.
He continues feasting on his gyro while I turn my attention to my hot cocoa.
“So you work at Peaches and Jeans.” He sets his food aside.
Here goes the dreaded small talk. I nod.
“Do you have aspirations in retail? Climbing the corporate ladder? Owning your own store? Not that you need to, sorry. I just… forget it. That was pushy.”
“It's not pushy. It's just a job for me, for now.”
“You have something different planned for later?”
A nervous laugh dies in my chest. Why did he ask me out? And why only in theory? There was something weird about that entire exchange, like he was holding back.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me.” He sets a hand on my thigh, then quickly pulls it away.
Given that he’s leaving town, I decide to hold back too, and only reveal the plan I put into motion before I got invited to the auction. “You have to promise not to laugh.”
“Okay.”
“I want to open a daycare.”
He laughs. Of course, he laughs. He stops after a few chuckles, but it's too late.
I clamor to defend myself. “Everybody thinks I'm foolish, that I should have bigger dreams, that somehow, because I'm smart I should strive for more. But what could be more important than raising young children?”
His smile is warm and sincere as he clasps both of his hands around mine.
He angles his body toward me. “I'm sorry. I wasn't laughing at you. I love that you want to be a business owner and that you value the impact you can have on children, Bellie.”
Bellie? A nickname? It’s kind of… hot coming from him. Too hot. Especially after he complimented my love of kids. Did Jolene and Starla put him up to this to boost my confidence?
“Thank you for understanding.” I pull my hand away.
He stares at the distance I create, and I swear I see longing in his eyes.
I never should have let my besties talk me into this. “I should go.”
“Am I that crappy at being enjoyable company?”
“No, you’re great.” I just don’t want to have to tell him I’m selling my virginity in less than a week.
He cocks his head and raises an eyebrow. “Now I think you're lying, which makes you a naughty girl. Don't make me channel Krampus and bend you over my knees for another spanking.”
The tension breaks as I bust out laughing. My hands fly to my mouth to stifle it, but people have already turned toward us. They must not have heard his comment because it only takes a second for them to turn back to their own business.
“That’s the smile I love.”
Why does he make me feel like we’re so perfect together?
“But really, Bellamie, I wasn’t laughing at your plan to run a daycare. I think that's amazing.”
Is Krampus’ only flaw the timing of our meet-cute? He leans closer. His hand cups my shoulders. Couldn’t we have met in the summer when I would have been wearing a sundress instead of a sweatshirt and coat?
His tongue darts over his lower lip making it hard to think about anything other than kissing him.
How am I going to play this out? Technically, he doesn't know I'm a virgin and I doubt he is. So what if I have sex in the Christmas Cherry Auction?
Except I don’t want anyone other than him. What if he won me in the… No! This is only making my sex tingle worse.
Some people come into your life for a moment, some for a season, some for a lifetime. Maybe he's a moment to make me trust that men can be attracted to me and not balk at wanting kids–that I won’t break the auction.
He pulls away. “What do you say we skate? You look like you're in your head.” He stands and offers a hand to help me step over our bench seat that's affixed to the table.
Is he perfect? I appreciate the chance to get out of my head, but I also swoon a little thinking about what a good kisser he probably is. And then, my foot catches on the bench and I stumble into him.
His strong arms wrap around me. I look up into his eyes. Thankfully, a moment of clarity strikes and I shove off of his hard chest. Ugh, possibly the biggest mistake of my life. “Sorry. I promise I'm not that klutzy. You don't have to worry about me on the ice.”
“What if I want to worry about you?”
“It would sound a little too much like a date.” I head to the skate rental booth, but can’t escape him as he places a hand on my lower back. “That feels an awful lot like date territory.”
I glance to the side and up at him, and he grins, leaving his hand in place.
The evening remains dreamy as we lace our skates, put gloves on, then make loops around the skating rink, impressing each other with spins and stops that neither of us are very good at. He’s so easy to be with.
Watching other couples skate hand in hand tempts me to give in, but this whole thing will be easier after Friday.
But after a few more moonlit laps, when Kace takes my gloved hand, I don’t resist. All I have to do is bide my time, let him leave town, and if the auction isn’t magical for me, I’ll get in touch with him. And if I really mean that, I’ll have to ask for his number.
A few more laps well up my anxiety that somehow I’m going to ruin the auction; I’m just not sure if I’ll ruin it by being in it or not being in it. I run wild with the idea that if he asks about sex, I can delay by saying I have a three date rule.
The cold evening air must be numbing my brain because I embrace a heightened level of wildness and consider that if this theoretical date continues to go well, I’ll ask Jolene and Starla to help me get out of the auction contract. Tomorrow. Before Kace leaves town. And ditch the three-date rule.
“What the fuck?!” The sound of my brother's voice kills the mood. He’s pacing along beside us but on the outside of the rink. In full Santa gear, he rushes to the entrance and steps in our path.
Kace tightens his grip on my hand. “Let it go, man.”
Skaters navigate around us and the few who were about to step onto the ice stop and watch Santa chastise us. “I said to leave her alone.”
What the hell is wrong with my brother? When he's not being a jerk, he's really attractive. I’m one of those girls whose friends are jealous because I have the hot, older, muscular, successful, dreamboat, handsome stepbrother.They don't understand what it's like for your brother to control you.
“Loren, go do your Santa thing. Leave me alone.”
He steps closer to Krampus. “I made it clear the other night that you need to leave her alone.”
Wait. The other night Krampus had his mask on. Maybe they met before or after the parade.
“She’s not yours.” Krampus guides me to the exit, keeping himself between Loren and me.
Loren fires back, “Yes, she is.”
I hate that my traitorous body wishes I was his…
both of theirs. Krampus and Santa, a natural pair.
In my fantasy world, it would be okay to have two super hot guys arguing over me, except that's not what this is. And despite living in the epicenter of Why Choose relationships, that’s not in the cards for me until Friday.
I suppose a girl could have worse problems.
On solid ground, I stomp toward my brother. “Stay out of my business.” The mood is dead. I hate arguments. I hate giving my brother a win. But I take the sign from the universe that my situation is too complicated. I smile weakly at Krampus. “I’m going home.”
Storming off to the rental booth, I regret leaving Krampus to deal with my brother, but it’s my cowardly way of buying time.
“Hey.” Krampus catches me, holds both of my shoulders, then rubs a finger over my cheek.
Dammit, I’m crying. I wipe his hand and the rest of my tears away. I want to stay in his arms. His touch feels so safe, like I can be myself and tell him anything. That’s a lot given the short time I’ve known him, but I can’t shake the feeling we’re meant to be together.