Page 54 of Knotty, Nice, & Holiday Lights
Matthew had returned to his apartment, and Asher only made it halfway through our Christmas comedy movie before he had to tap out and go to bed.
Now, as the credits roll, I snuggle into Will’s chest, my arms wrapped around him as he lets out a yawn.
“Hey,” I say gently. “Can I see your apartment?”
His lips press against the hair at my scalp. “Sure. Let’s head down now.”
I get up first, and he stretches the moment he’s on his feet, letting another yawn slip as I laugh. “I promise not to take too much of your time so you can go to bed.”
His cheeks dust a faint pink as he turns off the TV and puts the remote back on the coffee table. “That ice skating was a bit more of a workout than I expected. Come on.”
He leads me behind the desk to one of the many doors in the building, now donning a Christmas wreath; this door has a small push-button lock above the knob. He says the four-number combination aloud and smiles at me. “In case you ever need me. For anything.” There’s a dramatic eyelash flutter I giggle at before he turns on a light and begins to descend the stairs behind the door.
I close the door behind me as I follow, letting out a “Whoaaa…” when I reach the bottom landing.
The apartment is much bigger than I’d expected, and I’m only standing in the center of the living room/kitchen/dining space. It’s all open concept, and more modern than the B&B upstairs, which I thought was pretty modern to begin with.
The kitchen is lined with black cabinets, stainless steel appliances, and granite countertops. The floors are all tile throughout the entire space, dark area rugs beneath the table and chairs, and another larger one in the living room where a huge black leather sectional sits, facing a gas fireplace, a huge flatscreen TV mounted to the wall above the mantle.
I turn wide eyes on Will, whose laugh is a little nervous.
“This place is gorgeous,” I gush.
“Ah, sorry I didn’t show it to you sooner.”
“We’ve had a lot going on.”
“Yeah, we have.” He gestures to the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink?”
I smirk, walking over to him and placing my palms on his chest. “Why don’t you show me your room?” My eyelashes flutter just as his had moments earlier, making him huff a laugh before he takes my hand and leads me to a door on one side of the fireplace. When he opens it and flicks on the light, I’mgreeted with navy blue and blood red, the walls a light gray. But what stands out most are a couple of posters on the far wall.
“You really are a fan,” I breathe, walking into the room and getting closer to the framed limited edition art prints ofFantasmaland, Death of an Archon,and one giant mass-produced print of the main characters fromYavin-8.
“I did say so.”
I look back at him over my shoulder with a smile. “You did.”
The bed between us now, Will yawns again, and I crawl onto the mattress, lean back on the pillows, and hold out my arms to him. His sapphire eyes grow warm and loving as he joins me, using my breasts as his pillow as I run my fingers through his brunette locks, kiss his forehead.
“I’ve lived here for about ten years now,” he says as his body begins to relax in my arms. “But it doesn’t feel like home anymore.”
“No?” I kiss his head. “Why not?”
He’s quiet a moment. “I helped out my parents here part-time. Had a few other part-time jobs while I was going to school. But my parents always knew I didn’t want to run this place. It was their dream, their retirement plan. I had other plans.” He stiffens. “That’s a lie. I never made it to the ‘plan’ phase. After I got my degree, I never left home. I kept telling myself I’d figure things out, you know? I would spend lots of time applying for jobs while still working locally. But nothing stuck, and then my parents…”
My chest aches at the sorrow in Will’s voice, and I hug him tighter. “This time of year must be really difficult for you.”
His head shakes no against my chest. “Not any worse than every other day of the year. Not even New Year’s Eve.” He tilts his face up to me. “Can I tell you something?”
“Anything. Always.”
He swallows. “My parents wanted me to go with them to their party. They didn’t want me to work here alone on New Year’s. But I told them to go have fun.” He frowns. “Truth was I wanted to be alone. I knew that the guests here all had plans, and I was just a young guy looking for some solitude to play some video games and watch some movies, drink a beer or two alone.” He nuzzles back into my chest. “If I’d gone with them, I’d be dead, too.”
My lips part in surprise, breath catching.
“They were hit from behind and smashed into a truck in front of them. All that was left was crushed metal.” His arms squeeze me tight. “There were days I wished I’d been with them.”
“Will…”
