Page 50 of Our Little Cliche
“Alright,” she says, walking past me to the Christmas tree I chopped down for her.Shit, Christmas is tomorrow.
Tomorrow.
Silence is all that takes up space before she finally speaks again, fluffing around with the needles on the pine tree and smelling them. “So…”
“…So?” I mimic.
“Want me to cook dinner?” she asks, but I don’t know if she’s asking me or telling me.It’s not evenfour in the afternoon.When I frown, she shrugs with her whole body. “Your brunch worked up my appetite, I guess. Plus the faster I eat, the faster I can relax by the fire listening to my real life audio book and sip a nice glass of wine, and maybe a light snack. This being snowed in business is hard work.”
“Whatever you need to feel comfortable being stuck here with me, we will do,” I say, smiling, even though living with me was part of the job.
“So, what do you feel like?” she asks, making her way to the kitchen. I follow her, keeping my distance.
“You can surprise me.”
“Have you got pastry?” she asks.
“Yes.”
“And mince?”
“Yes. I’ve got every kind in the freezer,”
“Well then,” Holly claps her hands. “An Australian delicacy is what we’ll eat tonight.”
She’s going to cook me an Australian meal…
“Exhilarating.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
HOLLY
“Could you pass me the Tabasco?”I ask, my fingers growing numb while fisting the sausage roll mixture with my hands.Can’t have sausage rolls without a bit of zing. “Please?” I add, remembering my manners finally.
My gaze follows Cyrus as he rushes to my beck and call, bringing me the oversized bottle of spicy sauce with a self satisfied grin. Seeing his act of service in the flesh makes the guilt run a full cycle in my blood—this guy really has the heart and patience of a saint, and I had the audacity to accuse him of having a wife. I briefly make sense of him frowning, putting the bottle beside me but I’m too in my head to notice.
“What’s that face for?” His words don’t snap me out of my thoughts.
My brain to body malfunction causes me to leave my hands in the bowl but not mix, so I just stand there staring off into the abyss.Why do I keep being such an asshole towards him?The way I treated him only moments ago—and every other time before that—isn’t like me,I’m not like that. I’m a good person, and Cyrus doesn’t deservethis. When I told him he needs to keep his distance from me, his face went whitewash like I hadjust pulled his heart out. I hated every second as the words rolled off my tongue, because I didn’t want to really say it. I didn’t mean the words. Not really.
Our kiss wasnota mistake.
I don’t actually want him to stay away.
And now because of me, the both of us are stuck here in denial and have to pretend that neither of us are bothered by it. When in reality, I am very heavily bothered by it. As is he, clearly.
This is all my fault.
Cyrus is a good man, and I’m a confused emotional mess. Oh, my god.
Why do I have to ruin everything?
A strange sensation runs through my spine, making me shudder. Like every single emotion I can possess hit me all at once. “Hey, hey, wow. Holly? What’s wrong?”
What?
Cyrus’s brows turn upward, like he’s wounded by something. Why is he looking at me like I’m dying?Did I bite my lip again? “What?” My words come out as a squeak, but then I feel it?—
