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“Trip-a-what?” I asked as Chris helped me with my coat.
He pulled the closet door open and hung it along with his own. “It’s kinda like a Cuban sandwich, but better.”
“Sounds delicious, but I ate at Dad’s.”
“Okay.” He tipped his head toward the TV mounted above the gas fireplace. “Go put on a movie, and I’ll grab a couple of beers.”
I shuffled into the huge living room and dropped onto the cozy leather sectional. “What do you want to watch?” I called out.
“Whatever you want” was Chris’s hollered response.
A wooden bin on one of the end tables was labeledRemotes. The way the guys kept the place ultra-organized always made me chuckle.
I swiped the TV remote out of the bin and settled back onto the large sofa, tucking my legs under me and covering myself with a fuzzy blanket. With the remote pointed at the TV, I navigated through a selection of movies, waffling over what to choose. We’d done the Halloween-type horror movies during our first movie night, then I’d picked a couple of new releases through November, but it was Christmas,and during this time of year, I usually went for Hallmark rom-coms.
Chris wandered in and set the beers on the table with athunk. One Bud Light and one Easy Out. He always let me choose and never batted an eye at my decision. If I wanted some of each, he was fine with that too. In fact, that was usually the way it went. We’d share them both.
He balanced his plate on his leg briefly and picked up his sandwich, but as the sauce oozed from between the slices of bread, he glowered at it. Huffing, he set it down again and dropped the plate onto the table in front of him.
“Grab some napkins, Bambi,” he called over his shoulder.
“Should we go with an action? Or maybe a thriller?” I’d made him watch a holiday romance last time, and I didn’t want to bore him to death by choosing another.
Emerson tossed a few napkins over Chris’s head, and they floated from the sky like snowflakes and landed in his lap.
“It’s like being glittered.” The third baseman laughed as he headed back for his food.
Chris huffed a hard breath and shut his eyes. As much as Emerson made me laugh, he made Chris nuts. But he still loved the guy.
“Are there any new action movies out you’ve been wanting to see?” I asked again, watching Chris as he wiped his hands on a napkin.
“What?” Emerson dropped into the plush chair, his plate and beer in hand, and scooted the coffee table closer to him.
Chris snagged the beers before they tipped. “Careful.”
Emerson frowned at the table, then at Chris, clearly not seeing the problem. “Dude, you promised me a small-town romance. That’s why I stayed home. For the snow and Christmas magic that’ll give me all the tingles.”
Chris, who had his sandwich in both hands an inch from his mouth, gaped at his friend. “Tingles?”
“Yeah, you know, when the happily ever after is so good you almost cry. The kind that makes your heart tingle.” Emerson’s smile lit up the dim room as he shimmied in his chair, almost knocking his plate to the floor in the process.
I couldn’t help but smile back at him. It was fitting that the man loved a good romance.
Chris, however, glowered and shook his head. “I didn’t promise shit. I said you could stay to watch whatever Avery chose. If you don’t get yourtingles, you’ll have to deal.”
“Aren’t you sick of Hallmark movies?” I asked him.
He dropped his sandwich onto his plate and frowned at me as he wiped his hands on the single napkin he had placed over his thigh.
“I don’t care what you put on. I don’t do this to watch the movie. I do this to be with you. So pick whatever you want.”
He dipped his chin, signaling for me to proceed, but I was frozen in place. The words had been gruff, as was Chris’s typical demeanor, but the sentiment behind them wrapped tight around my heart and squeezed. With a thick swallow, I reminded myself that we were just friends. Although his comment had been incredibly sweet, he hadn’t meant it the way my brain had tried to take it.
Chris, apparently tired of waiting for me to snap back to reality, sighed and took the remote out of my hand. With quick efficiency, he scrolled to the icon of the movie I’d talked about after we had finishedChristmas Wishlast week and clicked it on.
“Yes!” Emerson pumped a fist. “This one is supposed to be the best of the year.”
Chris rolled his eyes and dropped the remote to the table.
