Page 43 of The Chemistry of Us

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I can’t decide if you’re just trying to get laid or if that’s another one of the things I’m going to file away in my brain as yet another reason my boyfriend’s perfect. Because he says things like this, even while Bruce Willis is getting shot.”

“He’ll make it, always does, always will.” He flashes me his toothy white smile. “And you can trust what I say is always true, Tru.”

“Ah, good one.”

He flicked the bell again. “Now that I’m done being all serious, can we see how many times we can make these ring?”

“Ah, he’s back.” I giggled as he managed to stretch his body over mine.

“Can’t say I ever thought I’d be at this moment.”

“What moment?”

“About to get laid with Rudolph on my thigh and bells on my girlfriend's socks—actually, small request.”

I cupped his face. “What?”

He licked his lips and leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to my mouth before whispering in my ear, “Just call me Santa one time. One time!”

I shoved him away, laughing. “And you were doing so good!”

“I know, but I got nervous!”

“You’re disgusting.” I pulled him back and kissed him anyway, then muttered, “Santa.”

He pulled me to a sitting position, then lifted me onto his lap. “See, was that so hard?”

“Never again say hard after I call you Santa.”

“I have so many one-liners in my head I might explode,” he admitted. “So maybe I just take off your shirt and use that holiday aggression?”

“Make it good, and I’ll give you a cookie later,” I joked.

His eyes darkened. “Tru, thank you for being you.”

“You sure you don’t want to finishDie Hard?” I was already reaching for his shirt.

He smashed his mouth against mine and mumbled, “He wins. Oh look, the movie’s over. Now, take off your shirt.”

Now

It was all a lie.

Every word that dripped with hope was followed by poison.

I flopped onto my side, stared at our shared wall, and flipped him off. Pee that was water? Who even was this guy anymore? If he pranked me one more time, it would be all-out war. I’d be a great tutor during the day… but at night, if he so much as crossed the line.

It would be war.

It was the only thing that put a smile on my face as I drifted off to sleep, and it was the only comfort I had as a single tear slid down my cheek onto my pillow. I ignored the sadness like I always did and attempted to fall asleep.

The clock wasn’t kind.

Neither was the universe.

I slept maybe two hours before I started a complete showdown with the clock on my bedside. I groaned when it turned from two o'clock to two thirty and screamed into mypillow when the minutes continued to slowly tick by until my alarm went off at six o'clock.

I rubbed my burning, watery, and most likely bloodshot eyes and stumbled out of bed. I wasn’t in any mood to have any sort of human interaction, and I was still upset about last night and even more upset that I was worried about him. He truly had no right to invade my thoughts like that, yet even after being pissed and hurt and remembering all the betrayal from before, I paused by his door and lifted my hand only to drop it like dead weight next to my hip.

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