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As soon as I’m halfway down the stairs, I’m hit with a whiff of warm sweets. It smells like Christmas cookies, and sure enough, when I round the corner to the kitchen, I find Jesse mulling about, scooping cookies from a baking sheet and placing them onto a platter that’s already full.
I can’t fight the way my brows lift. The entire island is covered in treats. Apparently, he’s been at it for a while.
When he hears me, he glances over his shoulder, a subtle smile twisting his lips. “Merry Christmas!”
My jaw tightens, though I’m pretending I don’t know why as I lean against the doorframe and grumble, “Merry Christmas. You opening up a bakery I don’t know about?”
I nod toward all the cookies and cupcakes and brownies covering the island, and the counters, enough to feed several sports teams. Some appear to be finished, already decorated with frosting and sprinkles, elaborate enough that they very well could be sold in a shop for dollars apiece, while others are fresh out of the oven and awaiting his immaculate attention.
He gapes at me with wide eyes for a moment, before peeking at all of his tasty creations. His cheeks blush pink. “Um… yea,” he chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. “I guess I went a little overboard.”
Guilt swims in my bloodstream as I step gingerly into the room, being sure to keep my distance all the same. “It smells great.”
He blinks at me, tugging his lower lip between his teeth. I can’t help how it shifts me in place.
Nope. We’re not doing this.
“Hey, why don’t you take a break?” I murmur at him. “You’ve got presents to open.”
Something flashes over his face, an emotion I can’t read, though I can tell it’s somewhere in the realm of despondency, before he covers it up with a smile and nods.
“Okay.”
Turning, I stalk into the living room, where the TV is already on. Or still on, playing Elf at a low volume. My fingers twitch, and I close my eyes to take a breath, inhaling and exhaling slowly, reminding myself that everything is fine.
Nothing happened. We’re totally good.
We’re ignoring this.
Except that I can feel Jesse enter the room behind me, like someone just opened the door and a gust of cool wind burst in, sheeting my skin in goosebumps.
Fuck my life.
Wandering over to the couch, I take a seat. But then it reminds me of things I’m not supposed to be thinking about and I jump up, moving to the loveseat by the fireplace instead. Turning my head, I squint at it.
“Did you get the fire started?” I ask, curiously.
He nods, waltzing over to the Christmas tree and dropping onto his knees on the floor. “Yea. I’m not incompetent.”
A chuckle rumbles up my throat, though it gets lodged in there and I clear it. “Good job, kid. That one, right there.” I nod at a large box wrapped in paper with snowflakes on it. “Do that one first.”
He looks excited as he reaches for it, reminding me so much of when he was a kid, it brings fuzziness to my chest that trumps all awkward discomfort.
This is what feels right. Opening gifts on Christmas morning, although checking the clock, I find that it’s already almost noon.
This is good. Regular stuff. Normal.
None of that… whatever the hell from last night that’s oddly settling in my balls, in a way that has me squirming in my seat.
Jesse tears open the wrapping paper to reveal the box for a Cuisinart mixer, one of the best ones on the market. He’s been not-so-subtly hinting that he wants one for six months, so it was an easy buy as his big gift.
And judging by the look on his face, I made the right call.
“Oh my God!” He cackles, examining the box closely, fingers brushing over the writing. “This is the exact model I wanted!” He tilts his head in my direction. “How did you know?”
I can’t help but laugh. “I’m good like that.”
“Mhm…” he mumbles, grin so wide it could be seen from space as he opens the box, checking out the device.
