Page 37 of Back Home For Christmas

“Finally,” I said, because I couldn’t say anything nice. “Let’s go.”

“What did Darren have to say?” He asked as I walked out the door and down the stairs.

“He wanted to know if his chocolate was okay,” I said.

“You know he is just worried,” he said.

“I get it, but I don’t have to like it,” I said. Jay checked out, settling the bill, I imagined. I would have to pay him back at some point. I definitely didn’t want to owe him again.

“How much was it?” I asked when he joined me in the truck.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said.

“But I will worry about it.”

“Of course you will. But I’m not telling you how much because I won’t enable your anxiety.”

“I’ll find out somehow,” I said. He pulled out of the parking lot and started toward the highway. The anxiety that had begun with the thought of finishing my essay only grew with the silence in the car. I couldn’t decide if my week at home was turning out as bad as I thought, or worse. Then Jay shifted in his seat, and I saw his fingers flex around the steering wheel, pulling the muscles in his forearm tight, sending warmth burning through my body, and I decided it was worse. Definitely worse. How could I have let this happen?

“Our drive back should be shorter,” he said. “We should be home in an hour.”

“Great,” I said. Jay was silent as he flipped on the radio.

“Did I convert you?” I asked.

“Look at me, living on the edge. Letting the radio decide what we listen to,” he said.

“You are a new man,” I said.

“Guess all it took was a cat,” he said with a side glance and a smirk. I closed my eyes and willed a patch of black ice to take me out.

“You are…” I began.

“Funny? Charming? Great in bed?”

“Arrogant? Stupid?”

“Handsome? Dashing?”

“Selfish? Oblivious?” I said.

He shrugged, “I’ll take it so long as you agree with my adjectives, too.”

“I plead the fifth,” I said. The smooth voice of the easy listening channel came on and announced their love of all things Christmas before introducing Kelly Clarkson’s “Underneath the Tree,” which always managed to give me the big time Christmas feels. Jay had been right; I was a romantic at heart. I had no idea how I had such bad luck in that department, and somehow, I had ended up here with Jay in this terrible, awkward, sort of, maybe, interesting situation. Holy shit, what if this was my romantic moment like in all the movies? I looked at Jay with wide eyes, trying to really see him. Could this actually be something? That would require him liking me as more than a one-night stand though, which I didn’t think was possible for him. I doubted he was capable of real romantic feelings. Look at how he felt about Aubrey. And they had dated for years.

“So, what’s your essay about?” He asked.

“Ugh,” I groaned. “A whole lot of nothing. It’s supposed to be a synthesis of my entire college career, but as of now, it’s about how well I can bullshit.”

“Sounds great,” he said.

I glared at him.

“How’s New York?” I asked.

“Ugh,” he groaned, mimicking me with a smirk.

“Seriously?”

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