Page 22 of Merry Little Sugar Rush
“Sorry,” I mutter as my boobs brush against him. Of course, I’m sure he can’t really feel them, considering the layers of clothes, but still. I feel like an apology is necessary since the last time I saw him he had braces and skinned-up knees from wiping out on his skateboard, and I was what was referred to as a carpenter’s dream back in my teenage years.
Flat as a board and never been nailed.
I didn’t grow boobs until I was about twenty.
Of course, I wasn’t actually called that until later in high school, but whatever. I was still a skinny, awkward girl with no curves, who liked to play outside with her male best friend instead of going shopping or doing hair and nails.
“You’re fine,” he declares. Out of the corner of my eye, I swear I see a smirk on his lips.
Heat stains my cheeks and there’s a touch of a shake to my fingers as I place the key in the lock and turn it. The familiarity of home washes over me as I step inside and plaster myself against the wall to ensure he has enough room to enter. Fortunately, the doorway opens into the kitchen, which has plenty of space for the both of us to not be all up against each other.
Or unfortunately the more I think about it.
“Umm, I have the stand set up over there,” I say, ripping off my stocking cap and pointing to the narrow floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room.
Burk moves in the direction I indicated and carefully places the tree in the stand. He drops to his knees before I can offer to assist and tightens the screw system holding the tree in place. Then, he removes a knife from his pocket and gets to work at cutting the netting off. When the tree falls back out, I can’t help but smile when I see there aren’t many damaged branches, and it looks pretty good.
“Thank you,” I tell him, super excited and ready to start decorating.
“Well, it’s not a perfect tree, but I think you did a good job,” he tells me, standing back and admiring the naked pine.
“I really appreciate you helping me get it home.” I don’t know why I’m suddenly nervous. Perhaps it’s for the simple fact he’s standing in my living room, in my private space, and all I can smell is fresh pine and a hint of his masculine soap.
He reaches down and gathers up the cut netting and rolls it into a ball. “So, about earlier. You had asked me to dinner, before we were interrupted by Amy’s son.”
That nervousness inside me seems to duplicate, growing like a weed. I’ve never been super outgoing, but I’ve never considered myself shy either. I mean, I was in theater and art, for crying out loud. And right now, I feel anything but confident. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked him to dinner.
“If the offer still stands, I’d love to have dinner with you. Though, I did offer to take you out somewhere so we can catch up.”
“I love to cook,” I blurt out. Feeling heat mark my cheeks, I add, “Well, baking is more my forte, but I do enjoy making a few signature dishes. Plus, I really want to decorate my tree.”
He chuckles. “Okay, what can I bring?”
“Just yourself.”
He nods. “All right. I get off at six, and I’ll run up to the house and take a quick shower. I can be here around six thirty.”
You know the scene inHome Alone, where Kevin outsmarts the criminals by throwing a party? My heart feels like that right now. It’s as if I’m rockin’ around the Christmas tree.
“No rush. It’ll be ready when you get here.” I pray I don’t sound as breathless as I feel.
The smile he gives me makes my entire body come alive with need, and even though I should be embarrassed for reacting this way because he’s my friend, I can’t help it. He’s just so…adorable.
“I better get back to the farm before they send the cavalry,” he jokes, but I know there’s a little truth to his statement. They may not come looking for him, but they’ll definitely wonder what’s taking so long.
As he moves to the door, I reach out my hand. “I can take that and throw it away.”
He places the balled up netting in my palms, and I swear the moment his fingers brush against my skin, some sort of explosion happens. Like sizzling sparklers on the Fourth of July.
“See you in a little while?” he asks when he makes it to my door.
“Yep.”
He flashes me another panty-melting grin before exiting my apartment, leaving me in a puddle of eggnog and faulty Christmas lights. I’m going to get shocked. Bad.
He’s just a friend…
I keep repeating that over and over as I prepare for Burk’s arrival. He should be here any minute, and I’m excited. That’s the only way to describe it. I’m anxious to continue getting to know the man he’s become. What little time we’ve spent together over the last couple of days has been enjoyable, and it seems easy to fall into the same state of friendship we used to have back when he lived here.
