Page 79 of Deadly Obsession
Elias chuckles, then he carefully removes himself from me.
He gives me a peck on the cheek, careful of his mouth being covered in my period blood.
“Go get cleaned up, and I’ll get our pizza plated.” He helps me off the counter. “What do you want to drink?”
“Maybe a ginger ale. I don’t need any more alcohol after getting drunk at brunch today.”
“Igot you something,” I say when we’re done eating and sitting on the couch listening to another record featuring songs from the sixties. I’ve learned it’s Elias’s favorite era of music. He likes music from the seventies, eighties, and nineties too. He blanched when I told him my favs were Lady Gaga, Taylor Swift, and Adele.
“What do you mean?” Elias asks, finishing up a text message and setting his phone down on the table next to the couch.
“A Christmas present. I know it’s a little late, but you obviously didn’t get to celebrate this year because of meso...”
“You didn’t need to do this,” he says as I hand him a box and a bag. “I don’t celebrate Christmas. Plus, I didn’t get you anything.”
“Yes, you did. You saved me from Chase.”
“That’s not a gift, Sage. It was a necessity.”
“Still... I just wanted to make sure you knew how much I appreciate you being a Level 100 Clinger and stalking me.”
He rolls his eyes at the Level 100 Clinger remark.
“Look, I know you couldn’t save your mom, and you’ve been living with your guilt and regret over that... but think of all the lives you’ve saved since. The women in those shipping containers…me...”
He clears his throat and looks away.
I place my palm over his knuckles. He’s clinging onto the wrapped box hard enough that they’re starting to turn white.
“I don’t deserve this,” he whispers.
“You do, and if you don’t open these gifts right now, I’m going to kick your ass.”
He barks out a laugh, and I relax a little because I was worried giving him a gift was the wrong move. He wasn’t mad about it... just surprised and feeling unworthy.
He rips the Christmas tree themed wrapping paper to shreds, then extracts a knife from his ankle to cut the tape of the box.
Inside is another box.
“A WWE Lego set?”
I nod enthusiastically.
“Did you ever play with Legos as a kid?”
He shakes his head slowly, staring at the box in awe.
“Wait, I just realized I don’t know how old you are.”
He lets out a puff of breath. “Thirty-six.”
“When’s your birthday?” I ask.
“July twentieth. What about you? You’re, what? Thirty-three?”
“In February. My birthday is February 2nd. Groundhog Day.”
I take the Lego box off his lap and hand him the bag decorated with a bunch of dancing Santas.
