Page 59 of The Naughty List

We laugh as I open the door, and Alex steps inside, the savory and sweet aroma of yeast and bacon following him. I take the items from him and place them on the counter as he shrugs his coat down his arms. He’s wearing a gray knit sweater underneath, paired with black jeans. When he reaches down to remove his wingtip boots, my stomach audibly grumbles and he looks up at me.

“I was right about the food. Merry Christmas Eve, by the way. Figured you shouldn’t spend it alone.” He reaches for the bag again, pulling out a box of half a dozen donuts, a few bagels, and several different breakfast sandwiches.

“Thank you. I guess it would be pretty lonely, huh?” I watch as he pulls out even more food. “Did you buy the entire bakery?”

“Wasn’t sure what you liked, so a little of everything. All carbs and fat, all bad for you, all the good stuff.” He gives me that sexy little wink of his, this time with a devilish grin, and I’m half tempted to make a comment about how all the delicious things we want are always bad for us, but I don’t.

I reach for a bacon, egg, and cheese breakfast sandwich, bringing it to my nose and inhaling the delicious decent.

“Smells like heaven,” I moan, before taking a big bite. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he mumbles around a bite of donut.

We stand at my kitchen island, devouring our breakfast in silence and shooting flirty looks at each other.

“This feels like a Hallmark movie,” I observe.

“What do you mean?”

“You know how they have these cute moments where a guy does something sweet for the girl, and that’s when she realizes she’d never truly looked at him and seen who he really was before?”

He shrugs. “Never seen a Hallmark movie. Seen the previews a hundred times though.”

“What? That should be a crime. They’re cheesy, romantic, always on theme with whatever holiday is going on, predictable, dorky, sometimes very cringe.”

“But entertaining?” He laughs, reaching for a breakfast sandwich.

“Very. I was actually going to spend my afternoon watching one…or five.” I giggle as I grab a donut.

“Put it on, let’s watch it.” He gathers up the rest of the food and places it on my coffee table.

“Are you serious?” I stay at the island, the donut I’m eating frozen halfway to my mouth as he walks back to the kitchen and points toward the cabinets.

“Of course I’m serious. Plates?”

“Third from the left.”

I smile as I watch him put a couple plates on the coffee table before popping the lids off the coffees and placing them next to the plates. Next, he takes a seat on the couch and pulls out a stack of napkins, setting them down in the center of the table.

When he looks over at me, he hops back up. “Sorry, I shouldn’t sit down before you in your own home; that was rude. Join me?”

I feel tears in my eyes, but I smile through them as I walk over to join him. In all my years with Tim, not once did he ever offer to watch a Hallmark movie with me. In fact, he never watched one with me. He always threw too much of a fit for me to even ask, and if he walked in while I was watching one, he’d grab the remote and flip it to something else without even asking. I realize in this moment that if Tim had wanted to do things like this, he would have. I know hindsight is twenty-twenty, but sometimes it takes a simple gesture from someone new to make you realize what you thought was a normal or healthy relationship, wasn’t at all.

“What are you thinking about?”

I study the smile on Alex’s face, noticing a dusting of icing on his lower lip leftover from his donut. Without thinking, I lean over and swipe it away like we’re a couple settling in for a routine Saturday brunch on the couch.

“Nothing, just happy you’re here. Nice to have some company.”

“You promise you’re not just saying that since I barged in here unannounced and now you’re too afraid to kick me out?”

“Not at all. Although, I am mildly—no—very embarrassed about last night.” I can feel my cheeks growing red.

“Embarrassed? Why? Did I embarrass you?” He puts his food back on his plate and looks at me. His dirty blond hair falls down over his forehead, making it difficult to focus on our conversation.

“No, not at all. I just mean me, dressed like that. And of course my friends and their comments.”

“First of all, that outfit wasn’t embarrassing, it was—” He does that thing guys do sometimes, slowly dragging his hand over his mouth while looking me up and down. “Well, let’s just say every man in that bar wished they were me last night. Trust me.”

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