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“I’ll only be alone if you leave.” He shrugged, and we went back into the living room where he paused to put another log on the fire. “I guess you don’t want another game of Monopoly?”
“I would rather dance through the town square wearing nothing but a Santa hat and nipple tassels while singing Christmas carols.”
“For what it’s worth, I’d prefer that option, too.”
I slid my gaze toward him. He was grinning, and there was a pop and hiss as he opened another beer.
“I didn’t have more than one in case you needed a ride home.” He shrugged and swigged.
“What if the wine doesn’t wear off? Then you can’t take me anyway.”
“Oh, no. Then you’ll have to stay here,” he deadpanned. The twinkle in his eye contradicted his flat tone, and I narrowed my eyes at him.
I did not trust him.
“You did this deliberately, didn’t you?”
“Did what? Only had one beer all evening to keep you locked up in the house? That’s the one, Azazel. You’ve got me all figured out.”
I pouted at him. “All right, fine. You didn’t do it deliberately, but you’re certainly enjoying it.”
“Spending time with you? No, it’s the worst. It’s why I do it willingly.” He grinned as he sat on the sofa. “Quinn, seriously, you can stay here if you want to. Your house is busy at the moment and I’m happy to take the sofa if you take my old room.”
“I’m not going to stay and make you sleep on the sofa. I’ll text Michael and see if he can come and get me. He’s always up early for me to get the truck, so it’s fine.” I reached for my phone on the side table.
Nicholas put down his beer and reached over to stop me. “Hey, look, I get it.”
“Get what?”
“You’re not interested in anything happening between us. I can’t say I blame you,” he said with a tilt of his head. “I’m more than happy for us to just be friends.”
I blinked at him. “You are?”
“Yes. I’m not going to say I don’t want to fuck you, because I do. I’m attracted to you, but I also respect your decision. Despite all my teasing, I really am all right if we just stay friends.”
A lump formed in my throat, and I glanced away, swallowing. “Wow. All right.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I just… I don’t know.” I frowned. “I guess I’m a little surprised.”
“That someone respects your wishes? Quinn, I would love to make up for that night after that stupid graduation party. But you aren’t interested, you’ve said so a thousand times, and I really am just fucking with you when I bring it up. I wouldn’t have kissed you if that kid hadn’t conned us into it.”
“Oh.”
“Not that I didn’t want to.” His lips tugged to one side. “I did, and I still do, but I won’t do anything without your permission.”
Well.
Okay, then.
“Um, all right. I guess I’ll just stay, then… If you don’t mind.” I bit the corner of my thumb. “It would be nice not to have to deal with my grandpa or my niece for a little while.”
Nicholas’s smile was so warm that it was like if a smile was a warm hug, it would be his. “We can just sit here and watch a movie and not say a word if that’s what you want to do.”
“I don’t mind. As long as it’s not Monopoly.”
“A movie it is. Hey, we can put on your biography if you want.”
“My biography?”
“Yeah.” He opened one of the streaming services and opened the search bar, then typed in The Gr—
“You bastard!”
He laughed as The Grinch popped up on screen. I couldn’t believe he’d referred to that as my biography, like it was the story of my life.
“You’re rude,” I grumbled. “At least get me more wine if you’re going to make me watch a Christmas movie.”
I wasn’t going to share that I’d watched one last night.
Still chuckling to himself, Nicholas put down his beer and went to the kitchen to retrieve some wine. I hoped he would get some—Erin had had way more than me, and I didn’t know what was left.
He came back in a moment later with a half-empty bottle and poured it in the glass which he handed me. “Better?”
“Yes. Thank you.” I pulled the blanket from the back of the sofa and spread it out between us, then tucked myself under it. My toes prodded into his thigh, and I said, “Ooh, sorry!”
“It’s fine. Stretch out if you want.” He patted his thighs, and I hesitated for a second before I did just that. He scooted along the sofa so my knees were over the top of his legs, and then he wordlessly turned up the movie.
The opening credits of Jim Carrey’s The Grinch rolled out through the room, mingling with the crackling of the wood in the fireplace, and the snowflakes that spread across the screen were complemented perfectly by the twinkling of the lights on the Christmas tree. I was warm and toasty and comfortable, even when Nicholas rested his hand on my lower leg.
