A Toast to the Good Times - By Liz Reinhardt Page 0,6

big deal or anything, but I got you something. Merry Christmas, Landry.”

Maybe it’s all the rum and the funny, sappy movies, or maybe it’s the weirdly clean apartment that’s so much better than I gave it credit for, or maybe, just maybe, it’s her.

Mila.

Looking the same but different, like I’ve been squinting at her blurry form for months and only tonight got handed glasses that are the right prescription.

Whatever it is, I feel...I feel like I better run away, fast.

But I don’t.

I take the box out of her hand and shake my head. “I feel like a dick. I didn’t get you anything. And you got me a gift and had the house cleaned—”

“Forget it.” Her voice is cheerful, but her smile isn’t as full of giddiness as usual.

Fuck.

Why didn’t I just get her a damn present? I’m officially the biggest asshole who ever lived.

“Listen, let’s just not—”

Before I can undo all this awkwardness, or maybe throw it into an even more awkward frenzy, she wrinkles her nose and says, “Landry, please? Just open it.”

I rip the paper off and there’s the Indian head belt buckle we talked about the first night I met her.

Shit.

“Mila...” I turn it over and chuckle. “This is seriously—”

“Stupid.” She takes a deep breath and pushes her bangs out of her eyes. “I know. It’s childish. And kinda dumb. But remember that night we met? When you said you loved X-Men growing up, and your dad wanted you to take over the bar, and you always just wanted to be Wolverine instead? And I know you don’t want to talk about your dad or your family or the bar, but I just thought, you know, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want. Because you’re smart and amazing, and if you want to be Wolverine, be him. Be better because, I know this makes no sense, but you are, you know? You’re amazing. And I know this is random, like out of nowhere random, but, Landry, I’ve just wanted to say, needed to say—”

It’s her eyes. I’ve never really noticed the color before. Pure green. Like looking through a wine bottle into the sun.

Okay, not the most romantic observation, but I’m a damn bartender.

Her eyes are so warm and kind and confident. Like she believes, really believes, that I’m the most amazing person who ever walked the earth.

Or maybe I’m reading more into all of this.

Maybe I’ve had too much rum.

Maybe I’ve just had too much everything.

In any case, I want her in my bed, and damn the consequences. This is a thousand times worse of an idea than sleeping with Lori would have been, but I don’t care. I just don’t care.

And then I’m kissing her, unexpectedly.

She was chattering, her words weaving in and out of my ears, and then the room went quiet. And I realized it was because my lips were on hers.

She moaned, just this one little, tiny moan, and I had her on her back on her bed, my body pressed hard on hers. Months of living together, and I’d never once thought of kissing her, and now I find myself wondering why.

Why didn’t it occur to me? Why didn’t I do this before, and all the time? Why were we ever in the same room and doing anything other than this?

I run my hands over the fuzzy flannel of her ridiculous pajamas, and, underneath the distracting clothes, I can feel every curve like she was perfectly fitted for me. I love the way she stretches up toward my hands. I love the way she wraps her arms around my neck.

Our kiss started pretty low-key, but the way her body is bucking against mine drives me into crazier territory. I open my mouth, run my tongue over her lips, press my hand through all her long, thick hair and pull her closer, tighter.

I expect her to be fairly calm and maybe shy, but she bites at my bottom lip, presses her hands up and down my back and coils closer to me.

“Landry,” she sighs.

I love the sound of my name, floating off of her lips. I push her top up, slowly; up her chest, up over her head and go a little dizzy seeing the bright red flash of her silky little bra, which she never took off when she put on her pajamas.

“I like this.” I run my fingers over the lace edges, just tracing the swell of her tit, and she sucks her breath in hard. I