Page 25 of Mr. Merry Ex-Mas
“So? What happened?”
“I walked her home. We talked. It felt like the past but better. Like, we actually knew what we were doing this time.”
“Did you?”
I laugh under my breath. “I thought so. Until this morning.”
Matt studies me for a moment. “So, how do you feel?”
I close my eyes for a second. I think about waking up next to her, seeing her hair a mess. Even with her walls in place, all of it made me want to stay. I wasn’t looking to pick a fight for a reaction, but she was definitely questioning herself. Maybe we just need more time to figure that part out. “Like I’m walking a tightrope blindfolded. She’s hot and cold, but I don’t think she wants to bolt completely from me.”
Matt nods. “You sure it’s not just ‘old times’?”
“No,” I mutter. “It’s her. Still her. Always her.”
He exhales. “You gonna tell her that?”
I stand and fold my chair up. “Eventually.”
“Before or after the gala?”
I grin. “Depends on how much of the seating chart she makes me proofread.”
Matt chuckles. “To second chances. Or whatever it is you’re doing.”
17
SADIE
Kylie’s questions play on loop in my mind.
Do you miss him?
Do you want him back?
Stop running.
I need to focus on today’s rehearsal, but I can’t bring myself to be in the moment. There are too many questions running through my head. I walk in and immediately move to the back of the auditorium, blending in with the rest of the cast and crew. I can’t even bring myself to tell them what’s next. I nod to the lighting crew when they ask a question and gently push the kids to the front, but other than that, I’m lost. I’m just here, doing my job, trying like hell not to let the man I’m falling for,again, ruin my chance at becoming the go-to event planner.
“Hey,” he says, stepping beside me like nothing’s wrong.
In his eyes, nothing is wrong. We had a great night. I’m the one who’s making it weird. I don’t look at him and respond, “Hey.”
“You good?”
“I’m great.” I sound robotic.
He frowns. “Okay…did I do something?”
“Nope.” I stare at the empty stage. I need to look anywhere but at him. “It’s fine.”
With his same old charming tone, he says, “I left you more than fine the other night.”
I close my eyes, recalling how he brought me to ecstasy. But when I don’t respond, he sighs. I feel that sigh more than just hear it and think to myself,Here we go again.
“You know,” he whispers, “sometimes, it feels like you’re just waiting to be disappointed by me.”
I turn to him, wanting to see his face now to understand if he’s being serious or just trying to pick a fight. I can’t get a read on him, so I shrug and say, “Maybe I am.”
