My Favorite Holidate

by Lauren Blakely

Fuck me. She didn’t simply notice the tattoos on my forearms—not that they’re hard to miss. They’re on my knuckles too. But she has a goddamn opinion on them, and it’s an opinion that sounds like poetry. The back of my neck goes warm. Settle down, man. She’s just playing along.

I’m early this time. I don’t want a repeat of the other day where I fly in late and, I dunno, my bra detaches itself from my boobs and flings itself at my boss. I mean, that could happen. Sentient bras could be a thing and then an eye could get poked out.

“I haven’t either. Leftovers are the unsung heroes of the food world.” “Because the flavors have had time to hang out together,” she adds, and I’ve got to keep things in check. I’m not going to let this tidbit work its way into my heart. It’s just an agreement over leftovers.

I think ice cream is proof of the existence of a higher being,

Mornings should be annexed onto the night, and days should start in the afternoon.

“Because I like snow. It’s soft, it’s quiet, it’s peaceful. Snow makes everything beautiful. You can have the busiest day, a million things going on, but when the snow falls, it calms the whole world down.”

After all, I’m not simply showing Brady how a woman should be treated. I’m showing her, and she deserves to know how it feels when a man pays attention.

Why are vests so hot? I don’t even know. It could be the way they hug a man’s waist. Or how they accentuate his pecs. Or maybe it’s just the promise of buttons.

“You don’t bite, do you? Like the big bad wolf?” A bolt of lust shoots down my spine. I try to ignore it, to resist it when all I can think is the better to eat you with. “Only if you want me to.” Her eyes flicker with something that looks a lot like lust. “I’ll take a rain check on the biting. But it’s a yes on the practice,” she says, then parts her lips the slightest bit.

“Why don’t you tell me the issue so I can fix it for the next time?” “Wilder…it wasn’t fine. It was the finest.”

“Yes. Or a cheek kiss,” she says, then pats my chest. “I trust your instincts.” My instincts are to cancel this meeting and haul you into my arms. Kiss you deeply till you melt, grab my collar, and tug me against you.

If he weren’t my best friend’s cousin, I’d go to jail tonight for pummeling the smirk from his face.

It’s a byproduct of fake dating. Someone could even list it on a pill bottle—side effects of fake dating may vary and include, but are not limited to, swoons, stomach flips, and naughty thoughts. You may want to talk to your pharmacist about what to expect and watch out for. If symptoms persist, see your love doctor.

“Oh, you know, something simple.” She narrows her eyes. “A little more info would be nice. Don’t you think?” No, Bibi. I don’t think it would be nice. I have no idea what you’re talking about. “Simple and stylish,” I say with a smile that masks my confusion.

“You made me an ornament?” I roll my eyes. “It’s nothing,” I say. He drops my hand and raises a finger. “It’s not nothing.” “You haven’t even seen it yet.” “It’s from you. It’s not nothing.”

“Do you like shopping, Wilder?” He’s quiet for a moment, like he’s weighing what to say. “For you, I do.”

I let out a long breath. “Thank you. For reassuring me. I’m sorry I came in a little hot earlier.” “I like it when you come in hot,” he says.

This is like waking up to learn I now speak French. I have a whole new way of understanding the world—a world I want to take a delicious bite of.

“Hun, if a man sent me something in my size, it wouldn’t mean he had a knack for shopping. It’d mean he had a knack for me. And your boyfriend has a very big knack for you.”

Fable: Have I told you I owe you the biggest thank you in the world? Wilder: You owe me nothing. It’s my pleasure to treat you the way you deserve. Whether that means in private suites, on shopping sprees, or…desks.

“Well, he is an Aries. They’re determined and independent,” she says. My heart should not be beating faster. It should not be surging simply because Fable remembers details about my mother, like her passion for the signs of the zodiac. But it is. It fucking is.

At last she speaks, soft but clear. “I like knowing you.” And it’s like my chest is expanding, making room for the way my heart is growing for her.

“Don’t make me wait,” I tell her in a rough, demanding voice. “That wouldn’t be very courteous, now, would it?”

“We have our own language of gestures.” “You can communicate through mind meld, basically,” I say. “Yes. You understand.”

And I wonder for the first time ever if I could live with all this terrible, horrible uncertainty of a romance that makes my heart beat like crazy from one minute to the next when I’m near her.

A large spool of red satin ribbon. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. I grab it as my aunt comes around the corner in her red plaid pajamas. “You’re looking for ribbon to wrap presents?” Not exactly. However, I didn’t expect to see her so it takes me a beat before I say a confident, “Yes.” But in that pause, she busts me, her lips curving into a grin. “I hope you have scissors, then, and a…fun word to use just in case anything gets to be a little too much,” she says, handing me a pair of scissors. Are you kidding me? My aunt is giving me advice on light bondage?

You’ve been like a dream I didn’t think I could ever catch.”

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” It’s not quite saying I’ve fallen in love with you but it’s close. So close. “Everything,” she answers decisively, then her gaze strays to the Christmas tree in the room.

I want to deserve her. I want to earn her. Most of all, I don’t want to hurt her by saying something too soon that I can’t back up.

I whisper sweet everythings

Who needs therapy with friends like this? I flop back onto the carpet. “Why did you come here? To make me cry and feel everything? I hate feelings so much. So very, very much.”

“If you’re not ready to do the hard thing, have a piece of cheese until you are,” Josie offers.

Fear is the issue there too. That’s what’s held me back. Not the belief that love is a lie, but the fear that love might be true. If it is, someone can hurt me.