Page 97 of Host for the Holidays
His eyebrows rise. “Okay with getting another eleven days with you?”
I lick my lips nervously. Eleven days with Rémy sounds like heaven. “It’s what happensafterthe eleven days that I’m worried about.”
His expression gets more serious. “Yeah, of course. Look, I don’t know what’s going to happen, Madi. I just . . . if you went home and we had spent all our time together trying to be just friends when it’s not what I want, I’d always wonder.”
“Me too.”
The corner of his lip tips up like he’s happy to hear me agree with him. “I know nothing’s changed. You just got out of a relationship, and I’m not trying to rush you into anything before you’re ready.”
“I don’t feel rushed.”
His brow pulls together a little. “But you’ve still got feelings for Josh to work through. Which is fine—and totally normal.”
I shake my head. “I probably seem heartless to you, but . . .” I press my lips together, trying to think how to explain this to him. “Remember when you said I was a creature of habit?”
He nods.
“I am. Absolutely. And my relationship with Josh was a lot like that.” I clench my eyes shut and shake my head. “Ugh, that sounds bad. I care about Josh, and I want him to be happy. And maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it’s all gonna hit me suddenly, but . . . I’ve been going through the motions for a long time. My family and friends never really liked Josh, even in the days where he hadn’t given them reason not to—from my perspective, at least—so I’ve always been defensive about the relationship. That just became so ingrained in me that it took me a long time to see that I was defending things I didn’t need or even want to defend. So me being sad about the photo memory this morning or about the picture of him and Brianne . . . that’s my frustration that it took so long for me to figure things out.”
Rémy looks down and grabs my hand, rubbing his thumb along it. “Okay, as long as you know you can tell me if you change your mind.” He looks up at me. “I really like you, Madi.Really. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous about how things will play out—nervous about getting hurt or causing hurt. But it’s a risk I want to take because . . . you’re worth it.”
There goes my breathing again. Rémy’s saying everything I’m thinking. Maybe we’ll figure out that this has all been an exciting but short-lived romance—like those bubbles at Montmartre. Beautiful and captivating, but not made to last.
Or maybe, just maybe, this is the start of something more.
* * *
Siena’sstill asleep when I text her to update her on the fact that I’mnotcoming home after all. Rémy invited me to Christmas Eve dinner—they call itle Réveillon—at his mom’s house, which simultaneously makes me feel like a million bucks and like I might throw up from sheer nerves.
When Siena responds, I’m lying on the couch next to Rémy, watchingNew Moon. Okay, “watching” might be a generous term, but what woman wants to watch Taylor Lautner hold Kristen Stewart when she’s got Rémy Scott on offer?
Siena:Wait, what?
Siena:Explain yourself, missy.
But she doesn’t give me the opportunity. She video calls me because Siena has the patience of a two-year-old.
Rémy and I sit up, hoping to give the impression of respectable behavior, but Siena sees right past it within seconds, immediately accusing us of making out instead of texting her back.
Her enthusiasm for the turn of events makes me look at Rémy to check whether she’s driving him away with how gung-ho she is, but he just wraps his arm around me like he’s happy he doesn’t have to pretend we are just host and guest watching a movie together, and then he kisses me on the cheek. Kissing Rémy on the lips is a whole-body experience, but being kissed by him on the cheek is a whole-heart experience, and I melt right into him.
How is he so perfect? How does he make me feel so valued with everything he does?
When we get off the call with Siena, I’ve got a text waiting for me.
Josh:Hey, Madi. How are you?
I glance at Rémy, and he raises his brows. “What?”
“It’s Josh.”
“Oh.”
I wish I knew what he was thinking. I don’t know why Josh is texting me—maybe to him, “space” is a couple of days. Either way, I feel in no hurry to respond.IfI decide to respond.
I turn off my screen, but it lights up right after with another notification.
Josh:Can you send me the link to the pictures you took of our holiday essential oils line?
