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She smiles, and the tiny wrinkles on the side of her eyes let me know the smile has reached the windows of her soul. “Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack.”
She looks as if she is thinking my proposition over. It’s not iron clad. I will still go to dinner with her on Christmas if she says no, but hey, I shot my shot. Then, she bites down on her bottom lip, and says, “Yes.”
Astalia then gives her stipulations of coming to my house. She tells me where she will sleep—not in my bed (lies), what we should wear—both fully clothed at all times (more lies), and there will be absolutely no kissing, flirting, or sex (so many lies).
I don’t nod my agreement to anything she says. I don’t even acknowledge it, because I only deal in facts. “I’ll text you my address. See you tonight,” I say before helping her down from her seat and walking out to the lobby to meet up with Santerían and her cousin, Jayne, who have been waiting patiently for us to finish talking.
Chapter Seven
Astalia
Big Talk
December 15, 2019
11:09 p.m.
Standing outside of Omega’s door in the dead cold of Georgia winter, I’m ambivalent about knocking since I’m not even sure why I’m here. I have never done anything like this. I could be walking into the arms of a serial killer or the perfect gentleman I believe him to be, but the reason I move forward is the obligation to fulfill my end of the deal with Omega. And I have to do this, right?
Yes, my internal thoughts answer loudly. Mom is expecting me to bring an Omega-like man home for Christmas, and I refuse to come home without him. I imagine the tirade of questions and arguments that would occur if I come home empty handed. If this was only a fair exchange, I would be fine with it, but I’m feeling something different, something more. Our conversation at the bar has me wanting to be near him again—to look at him, to smell him, to touch him. The hug we shared in the parking lot before we left Elite at 9:25 p.m. still lingers on me. I couldn’t have been more surprised when he pulled me into his arms’ embrace and told me he couldn’t wait to see me again. Remembering that moment warms me as I stand outside of his door.
Jayne is probably still shocked from seeing me open up to Omega the way I did.
When she dropped me off at home just a few hours earlier, she said, “That was not my Astalia I saw tonight, letting someone else in.”
“It’s nothing, Jayne. We’re just two single people who’re going to spend some time together during the holidays. I told him what I needed and he agreed.” I tried to play it down, and I definitely didn’t tell her I was going to his house tonight.
Jayne didn’t let me off that easily. “You don’t even understand what just happened between you and that man. You don't understand your power, do you? Did you see the look on his face? You just wrecked his strong, alpha looking ass. Now, it's time to finish the job. Change his world, sis. Make this a holiday he won't forget. It can be so much more than an arranged date,” she’d said when she pulled up to my house.
“I can handle it, Jayne,” I said, getting out of her car. “Thank you for taking me out.”
“Anytime, sis. Love you,” she said, then watched me until I was inside my apartment. I was glad she had to get back on the road, heading home. I, too, had something to do.
I thought about Omega and the advice Jayne had given me as I packed my overnight bag.
I’m usually guarded when it comes to men. Yet, something about him makes me comfortable, something completely out of the norm for me ever since Lewis took me through the pain we shared. I haven’t wanted to look for love again, but because of Mom’s persistence, I’m now standing outside of Omega’s apartment unsure about what will happen over the next ten days.
When I finally get up the nerve to raise my hand to knock, the door opens. Omega is standing there wearing only a pair of gray jogging pants. His muscular chest is bare. Washboard abs lead down to a thicker-than-a-snicker imprint in his pants. It takes him speaking to me to bring my eyes back up to meet his.
“I saw you pull up, and I’ve been waiting for you to make it to the door. Come on in.” He pulls me inside from the blistering weather and takes my bag out of my hand, walking over to the sofa to set it down. He then helps me out of my jacket and leads me into his living room, which is lit by a lamp and the fireplace. Charlie Brown’s Christmas CD is playing at a low volume. Two wine glasses are on the table. He doesn’t have any decorations up, but still, the entire sce
ne is infused with holiday romance.
“You like Charlie Brown?” he asks.
“I like jazz, and the Charlie Brown CD happens to have some of the best Christmas jazz music.” That’s not all I like, I think as I steal glances at the different places on him I would like to touch just so I will know this is happening right now. A part of me doesn’t believe it is.
“Well, this is about the only thing that gets me into the Christmas spirit,” he admits. He sits on his brown leather sofa and reaches out a hand to me. “Come. Have a seat and relax.”
I slowly walk toward him, feeling overdressed in my fitted jeans, red sweater, and stiletto knee-boots as the blazing fire from the fireplace reflects off his bare skin. It’s definitely an outfit for going out, not staying in.
“Why do you want me to spend the night with you? Is it sex you want?” I ask straight out. I have to know what it is we’re doing here.
“Yes, I want sex,” he says plainly. “But that’s not why I want you here.”
“But one of your requirements for being my Christmas date is for me to spend every night with you. What do you expect out of me each night?”
