Cupcakes and Christmas - R.J. Scott Page 0,68
help that Justin kept adding items for me to give away, some cute, some ridiculous, and I must have had about a hundred dollars’ worth of the pretty in there.
“Me too,” Justin admitted, but he didn’t sound right. I’m not sure what I was picking up in his tone, but I felt as if I was missing something obvious. I took a Santa from a shelf that said ho-ho-ho whenever it was moved and pretended not to have noticed a thing.
“What are your plans this year?” I asked and tilted the Santa one more time.
He picked up a glitter ball and hung it from his finger so it spun and caught the light, reflecting it back on his face. “I’ll probably do a live thing for fans, and maybe a bake that is anti-turkey for the people at home who don’t do the whole Christmas dinner event.”
“Don’t you enjoy the dinner part?” I recalled last year, post breakup with asshole-Marc, and how sitting on a short chair amongst many a mismatched chair, with family squeezing in for space was my happy space. No one gave me a chance to wallow. The kids climbed over me and told me I was their favorite uncle. My mom spoiled me. My siblings went over the top with stupid gag gifts to us all, after each course. To me, that single moment was the best part of the day.
“I do.” He spun the glitter ball, and I was dizzy watching it. “Just difficult to be bothered when it’s just me on my own. Not that it’s an issue, I love getting up on my own time frame, listening to music, watching Christmas movies, eating what I want, doing what I want.”
“Cool,” I lied because that sounded so sad. “You know, this year, if you wanted to you could come and visit me and suffer through the chaos of my family’s Christmas.”
“Yeah?” He replaced the ball and picked up another. This one a collection of fur, feathers, and diamanté. “I’m booked out this year really.”
“Well if anything cancels and you’re stuck for something to do… ” Please be with me at Christmas. Please let this last past the show. Please fall for me as hard as I am falling for you.
“Let’s pay, yeah? We still need to eat and check on Jeremy, and then… ” He leaned in for a quick kiss and then sashayed away, holding two of the furry decorations from his ears like earrings. He’d avoided any kind of commitment at all in the conversation, and the soft fuzzy lovey feelings I was harboring had a new emotion in the collection—fear. This was just a fling. I was opening my heart for no reason, and I was contemplating the next step when I should be thinking about the here and now. I’d spent my entire time with Marc seeing the future that was a mix of love and kids and making a family home where maybe one day we could host an event such as a Christmas dinner. I’d been so blinded by the future that I hadn’t spent enough time in the present and look where that got me.
Still, his enthusiasm and laughter were so infectious, that by the time we lugged everything back to the hotel, I’d forgotten the warning signs, or at least chose to ignore them. We deposited the gifts in my room then headed straight for dinner on the top floor with its spectacular views, all the while holding hands like teenagers and stealing kisses behind the other guests in the queue. I don’t know if it was the kisses or the laughing, but they seated us in a corner in high-backed chairs, and it felt as if we were the only people in the entire place.
He reached for my hand and laced our fingers. We ate the shrimp starter, one-handed, chatting about the show, Clare, and today. Never once did we revisit Christmas and what it meant to either of us or why, but that was a good thing because the filmy veil over that part of the day was enough for us not to see the crack.
After starters, steak with all the trimmings was when we finally let go of each other’s hands, and then we both slumped into our chairs.
“I’m stuffed,” he grumbled and tipped his head back in the chair and closed his eyes. “You know this might have been the best day of my entire life.”
“Even better than the hot springs?” I