“Jesus H Christ.” She swallows audibly.
I’m certain her pulse is rocketing faster and faster like mine the longer we stand staring at each other. My grin pulls tauter as she bites on her bottom lip.
“I don’t know how I ever thought you were a standoffish guy. I take your thumb and you’re already cheering for the…umm…salami…”
“You said it wasn’t Christmas until you were stuffed and couldn’t move.” Hooking my finger on the front of her scarf, I pull her up to me. Without moving my eyes from hers, I ghost her lips. “I can do that for you…just saying.”
“I bet.”
“Is that a yes?”
Shaking her head, she pushes away from me, but when I clasp her hand and twirl her back to me, she’s pursing a smile. Closing my hands around her waist, I hold her body flush to mine.
“You haven’t said no, Amelia.”
“Does that fill you with hope?”
“Hope isn’t the filling in this conversation.”
“You’re kind of dirty and incorrigible.”
“I’d say I’m a relentless guy. I told you, I’m great at most things, and when it comes to you…well, I’m pretty certain I’m fucking amazing.”
“We’ll see.” She levels me with a daring grin.
“Sweetheart, the only thing you’re gonna see is fireworks.”
We laugh and for once, I’m in no rush to be done and check on the business or read through my emails. Even as my phone goes off in my pocket, I just want to be with her.
6
Amelia
Dancing around my temporary bedroom to Kelly Clarkson’s “All Wrapped Up in You,” I pick up my hairbrush and start miming along. I feel like I’m starring in my very own Christmas movie. Snow? Check. Christmas decorations everywhere? Check. Amazing sex? Check. Hot date tonight? Check!
Feeling fit to burst, I swipe my phone off of the dresser and dial Kate, before grabbing my favorite festive red dress from the small built-in wardrobe.
“Hey, Mills,” she says after she picks up, and I smile at the nickname she’s called me since we became friends at the London School of Economics. We’re similar in all the ways that matter, and our business brains are on the same wavelength too. It’s why we’re so great together.
“Hey! You’ll never guess what happened the other day?” I giggle into the phone like a schoolgirl, and I couldn’t care less. I’m happy. Why shouldn’t I enjoy it? Adam has me acting like a kid on Christmas morning, and I’m not even sorry.
“You got lucky?” she guesses, a hint of humor in her tone. And I blush as the memories come flooding back to me in vivid detail.
“Hells yeah, I did! It was kind of cute and sweet at first with the whole strawberries and chocolate set up in front of the tree. It was gorgeous, Kate!” I sigh in contentment, replaying that night and the events since. “And then it was hot. We’re talking toe-curling kind of hot.”
The whistle down the line is broken up by her laugh, and I’m laughing right along with her.
“Wait. Is it a real tree?” she asks, pulling me from my filthy memories with her random question.
“What?” I ask. What a weird question. Stepping into my beloved red dress, I pull it up and zip it up at the side, admiring the way it clings to my body in the full-length mirror in front of me.
“Was the tree real? Because sex under one of those is just asking for a trip to A&E! Pine needles and orifices…eurgh.” I hear her shudder down the phone and burst into another fit of giggles.
“Oh my God. Only you could take the hottest, most romantic moment of my life and turn it into a health and safety concern. British much?” I snort down the phone at her, rolling my eyes at her ridiculousness while looking for my makeup bag.
“Sorry.” Kate’s apology gives me pause; unlike me, she’s not the type to hand those out freely. “I was joking with you. You know I’m happy for you, right? You deserve some time to yourself and good fun,” she says, and I smile.
“We went to a Christmas market yesterday, and he’s taking me to a local pub for dinner tonight.”
“Sounds amazing, and I want to hear all about it, but I need to go…call me tomorrow?”
“Oh okay…”
“Good! Love you, Mills, bye.” And with that, she hangs up.
That was odd. Kate’s never that abrupt. Thinking back to the whole conversation, I kick myself. She wasn’t herself from the start, and I didn’t once ask if she was okay. She gets married in less than a month, and I’m too busy living in my merry little bubble to ask her how she’s doing. Some maid of honor!
Dialing her number again, I sit on the bed and wait for her to answer.
“Hello…”
“What’s wrong?” I jump straight into it. I know something’s amiss, and I’m a crappy friend for not noticing sooner.
“What? Why would you think anything is wrong?” The one thing I love about Kate is that she’s straightforward. What you see is what you get. Which only makes the forced levity in her voice all the more noticeable. “Nothing’s…”
“Katherine Clark. Do not lie to me.” I’m bringing out the big guns, knowing she doesn’t like the full-name treatment.
I hear her sigh in defeat and wait for her to open up to me. We tell each other everything, so I don’t know why she’s trying to keep a secret from me.
“Rich is acting strange,” she admits in an anxious whisper.
“Strange how?” I ask, wondering what her fiancé is up to. He’s always seemed a bit weird to me, but each to their own.
“He’s quiet and dismissive. Distant even and avoiding any talk about the wedding. I tried to talk to him about the honeymoon, but…I don’t know,” she sighs. It’s sad and timid, tinged with worry, which fills me with concern for her. “He’s staying late at work all the time.”
Her weary tone makes me wish I was with her and could engulf her in a hug. Not to mention that I feel awful about gushing to her about Adam in my post-sex haze while she’s tying herself in knots over her upcoming nuptials.
“Sounds like cold feet, honey, and that’s normal. All men get them. Weddings are our dream, not theirs. He’s probably trying not to get under your feet by keeping himself busy,” I say, trying to soothe her.
“Yeah, I guess so. It is coming round really fast,” she agrees, adding, “I suppose even I’m a bit anxious about it.”
“It is coming up fast, but everything is ready, and it will be epic. Just try to relax, okay?”
She lets out a huge breath, and I can practically hear her dropping her shoulders. “Hmm, I bet you’re right. He’s probably got cold feet and he doesn’t want to freak me out.”
“Sounds like Richard.”
“God, I feel like the biggest bridezilla.”
“Hardly. It’s your fairy tale, right? You want it to be perfect.”
“Thanks, Mills!” she tells me, sounding more at ease. Her chuckle is definitely brighter.