Chapter 9
nine
Fern
“Die Hard is not a Christmas movie.” I laugh at the look on Wayan’s face as I tell him this, when of course I know it really is. But I need him to believe we don’t agree on everything.
“What? How can you say that?” He pulls me tighter against his body as he growls, his fingers tickling my sides.
When I first bought this sofa sectional, I never imagined how perfect it would turn out to be.
We pushed all the pieces together—well, Wayan did; he refused to let me help.
Now, it feels like our own private space, with enough room to lie side by side and still spread out our snacks, along with the pizza box—the one minus the pizza we devoured hours ago.
“Look, just because a movie has a Christmas tree in it doesn’t make it a Christmas movie.” I giggle even harder as his fingers run up and down my sides.
“Take that back. You know it’s not Christmas until Hans Gruber falls off the Nakatomi Building.” He picks up the speed of his tickling until I’m out of breath from laughing so hard.
“Okay, okay. I give. Die Hard is a Christmas movie.”
“Damn straight it is.” He leans forward, and I hold my breath—he’s going to kiss me on the mouth.
Do I want him to kiss me on the mouth? Yes, I do.
It might just be the hormones talking, but I think I’m falling for this man. However, to my surprise, instead of kissing me on the lips, he kisses the tip of my nose.
When he pulls back and looks into my eyes, all I can do is blink back the disappointment of not feeling his lips on mine. “Are you okay?” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
Why does he have to be so perfect?
“I’m fine. I’m just deciding whether a group of international thieves and a hotshot policeman movie can be considered a Christmas movie.”
“Well, I guess you’ll have plenty of time to decide since it’s time for bed.”
“But we haven’t finished the movie.” I fake pout.
“You’re such a brat, you know that.” He rolls off the couch, taking me with him, then picks me up in his arms and carries me to my bedroom, where he gently lays me down on the mattress.
“Will you stay with me tonight?" I’m not sure what made me ask him to stay. All I know is I’m not ready for tonight to end.
“Sure, brat.”
I scoot over, giving him room. His arms wrap around me tightly, and in the back of my mind, I know this is a dangerous game I’m playing, but I can’t seem to stop.