Page 24 of Holiday at Home
I begin to thank him, but then he scooches to the edge of his chair and hits me with his “serious discussion” face. It’s endearing and familiar and somehow thaws a bit of the frostiness I feel towards him even as I brace for whatever comes next.
“Okay, so don’t hate me here,” he says, elbows on knees, brows furrowed, head tilted…
And then he just trails off, staring into space while his lips move ever so slightly like he’s practice-whispering what comes next.
“Simon?”
He blinks, his eyes focusing on mine, inhaling deeply before, “What was with those awful industrial drip coffee monstrosities?”
He looks completely taken by surprise by what he said.
And I get that.
Given the buildup, I thought we were headed into dangerous territory.
“You know coffee was Mom’s thing. Or yours. I’m just lucky to be serving the stuff.”
“I’m not sure ‘lucky’ is the word I’d use.”
“Oh yeah? Tell me, then. What word would you use?”
“You don’t want to know.” His eyes twinkle and his smile is playful and it feels so easy to be around him, like falling into old patterns, like finally something is easy after months of everything being hard.
“I’d blame New York, but you always were a coffee snob.”
A strange look passes over Simon’s face, but his mom arrives with a wine refill and another meddling smile, and the moment passes. A week ago, if someone had said I’d be eating dinner here, I would have laughed in their face. Today? I’m oddly grateful.
“Not to get all weird or anything,” I say, sitting back in the armchair and swirling the wine in my glass, “but it kind of feels like my guardian angel sent you to me tonight.”
“How so?”
The lights from the tree glitter in his eyes. His dark hair slips onto his forehead, and he rakes his hands through it in a way that sends my heart racing. Simon was always good-looking, but the years have sharpened his features. Strong jaw, long straight nose, full lips, high cheekbones…
My pulse kicks up in betrayal.
He shouldn’t still affect me like this.
“The thought of sitting in my house one more night was heavy on my shoulders. I didn’t realize it, though. It’s just the way my life’s been lately. But being here tonight, surrounded by all these people, and with you… it’s been good, Si. I think I’ve spent too much time alone. So, thank you.”
“Something told me you needed it.” His eyes hit mine and it’s like I’m seventeen again, falling into my forever. “It wasn’t even why I came over in the first place,” he finishes and I break eye contact by taking a long swig of wine, while my stomach flutters to life with butterflies.
Freaking.
Butterflies.
I want to hate it, but I can’t. Part of me will always feel this way about the man sitting across from me.
“Whydidyou come over tonight?” I ask, tucking my legs underneath me, more comfortable with every passing second.
Simon’s brow creases. He sits forward, elbows on his knees, suddenly serious again as he rubs a hand over his mouth. “You know?—”
A herd of children races through the door, screaming and laughing as parents yell after them to stop. Someone knocks into the tree, someone else catches it before it falls, and another voice shouts, “If you kids don’t calm down, there will be a serious discussion over who is and isn’t going on the ski trip!”
“Ski trip?” I ask among a chorus of disappointed groans and promises of better behavior.
“Yeah,” Simon says. “That’s why everyone’s here. We’re all going to a resort in Colorado until after Christmas. Leaving tomorrow.”
Tomorrow.
