Page 40 of Holiday Star
Once his footsteps have gone up the stairs, I turn to Jenny. She’s holding her mug of coffee to her lips, staring at me over the rim. “Please, please tell me that you had sex with that delicious piece of man last night.”
I sigh. “Sorry to disappoint you, but no.”
“Gwen! Seriously? I saw you watching him just now. You looked like you were a cat and he was a bowl of milk that you wanted to lap up.”
I groan, clapping my hand over my eyes, and plop down on the couch. “Ugh. Was I that obvious?” I peek through my fingers at her. “I did kiss him, though.”
She flies over to me, a grin splitting her face. “You did?” She grabs my forearms and shakes me. “Tell me everything. Everything!” Her voice pitches high with excitement.
I laugh, swatting her away. “It was just some kissing. In the bar, outside in the car, and one last kiss goodnight when we got home.”
“Who stopped it? Him? Or you?”
“I don’t know. Him, I guess?” I sigh. “I didn’t push it, though.” I turn to her. “It was amazing,” I confess. “Hands down, the best kisses of my life.”
Her laughter rises into the air, joyful and light. “Of course it was. Wow! I can’t believe you kissed Caleb Lawson.”
“Me either. It seems a bit like a dream.”
“You know you need to have sex with him, right? I mean, if you won’t do it for yourself, at least do it for all the rest of us normal women in the world. I’m sick of those supermodels keeping the hot men to themselves. It’s time for those of us with frizzy hair, thighs that touch, and contacts that hurt our eyes to finally have our turn. Remember, Gwen. Tick tock.”
I laugh at her impassioned speech, but then grow serious. “I don’t know, Jenny. What if he doesn’t want to? What if he wishes he hadn’t kissed me?”
She scoffs. “Impossible. No one could ever regret kissing you.”
“You say that because you’re my best friend.”
“No. I say that because you are smart and pretty and kind and loyal. You’re the most loyal person I know. Screw Caleb Lawson. He’s lucky to haveyoukiss him. Not the other way around.”
Her mouth slams shut as Caleb comes back down the stairs.
He looks at us, expectant, and rubs his hands together. “Let’s start. I want to decorate my first-ever tree.”
Jenny gasps. “You’ve never decorated a tree before?”
“Never.”
“Tragic. Just tragic,” she declares and shakes her head sadly. “We need to fix that immediately.”
I get out the tree stand, and the three us wrestle the tree into it. The smell of pine is all over my sap-sticky hands.
Caleb puts Christmas music on his phone, the way he did when we decorated before.
I open the boxes in the corner of the room. The one on top still has some of my things in it. I pick up the watercolor paints and hold them for a minute, wondering if maybe I should try again. It might be fun to access that creative side of my brain. To paint something, try to breathe life into paper with a swirl of colors. I put the box of paints away, telling myself to be realistic. When would I have time for a hobby like that? I spend all my hours working in the hospital.
That’s who I am. A doctor. Not a painter.
The third box in the stack holds the Christmas ornaments. I place the box on the floor and sit down in front of it. Recognition washes over me as I get out a silver heart ornament my mom made when I was a baby. I brush my finger over the engraving etched into its surface.
Gwen’s First Christmas. Love, Mom, Dad, and Brandon.
Caleb comes up behind me. He reaches over and plucks the heart out of my hand. “This is yours?” he asks as he traces the words with one fingertip the way I did.
I nod, overwhelmed with nostalgia.
“Show me some more.” He sits down next to me, crossing his legs gracefully.
I pull the ornaments out and tell him about my favorite ones.
