how he can keep his emotions locked up, and my body is betraying me, giving everything away.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and for a second, I wonder if I even heard him correctly. “This isn’t about you. Okay? We’re in different places in our lives. I know our parents aren’t together anymore, but we know what people would think.”
“Who the fuck cares what people think?” I blurt out.
His eyes widen, clearly not expecting me to feel the way I do.
“I hadn’t realized you were someone who cared so much about other people’s opinions, Merric. Especially ones that are none of their damn business.”
He pulls his arm back, his jaw locked as he stares down at me. He doesn’t say a word.
So what if our parents were married? His dad passed three years ago, and despite their relationship, Merric was hardly ever in my life. Who cares about our age difference?
It’s never changed the way I felt when he touched me, how badly I’ve wanted to break down this shell around him, pushing me and everyone else away.
“I’m not going to try to convince you to change your mind. I deserve way better than that.” I laugh, shaking my head. I want to throw my hands up and just forget this entire conversation.
“I’m letting it go. You’re right, it would make things messy, and I’m not quite sure I even want to go down that road myself.” Drawing in a breath, I release it before saying, “I’ll meet you outside in fifteen minutes.”
This time, I don’t bother to wait for him to respond, and he doesn’t stop me either. I focus all the energy I have on changing my clothes and getting everything packed up so we can hit the road. The quicker we make it there, the easier it will be for me to put some distance between myself and Merric.
When I pull my suitcase toward the front door, Merric is standing there waiting, dressed in a white dress shirt and a pair of dark denim jeans. They fit his legs perfectly. For a moment, I wish I could ask him to get rid of the coat he’s wearing, wanting to get a better view of his firm ass when he turns.
“Get in the car. I’ll take care of it,” he mumbles, reaching for my suitcase.
The snow has stopped, and most of the main roads are clear, making the rest of our drive easier than it had been the night before. Without the weather distracting us, I can feel how the night is still weighing on our minds. In the quietness of his car, there’s no escaping Merric, making it impossible to think about anything else.
Chase Rice comes on the radio, singing about kissing a woman all over her body, making her scream. I notice how Merric’s hand grips the shifter, clearing his throat as if trying to control himself. Turning to look out the window, I squeeze my eyes shut, attempting to ignore the lyrics.
I’m relieved when we finally make it to Richmond, pulling up outside the home my mom and Maxwell had once shared. It’s a beautiful ranch with five bedrooms and more space than one person could ever need, but she insists it’s her home. As long as she’s still breathing, she won’t leave the place they had created together.
The last three years have been hard on her since he passed. It all happened so quickly after his heart attack. I know she misses him and wishes she would've had more time.
Although most of my stuff has been boxed up and put in storage or donated when I went off to college, I still stay in my old bedroom whenever I visit. Merric has always slept in the guest bedroom on the other side of the house.
My mom is waiting for us on the front step the moment we pull into the driveway. She has the house all decorated and ready for Christmas. A massive twelve-foot tree stands tall in the entryway with another in the living room. White lights and garland are detailing throughout. My eyes stop, falling on the burning fireplace mixed in with the soft sound of Christmas music playing.
Merric has shed his coat, hanging it on the rack near the door. He stands across from me, leaning against the pillar separating the two rooms.
When I finally glance over to look at him, I see he noticed how my eyes had paused on the fireplace. He flashes me a small smile, and for the first