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Her statement irritated me. “Why don’t you let me decide who’s right for me?” I argued and she gasped when I moved closer, pressing my body to hers. “I want you, Yvonne. No one else. Just you.” I levelled her with a pointed look, hoping she understood how serious I was about her. She inhaled sharply and then the elevator doors slid open. We’d reached the ground floor. Yvonne slipped away, and I was distracted long enough for her hand to fall from my grasp.
I caught up with her quickly as she made her way out of the building. “Are you still coming to stay with us for Christmas?” I asked. I couldn’t stand the thought of her changing her mind.
At this, her expression softened. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss it. It’ll be nice to catch up with your parents and Dylan’s dad. I haven’t seen any of them in years.”
“Good,” I replied, my voice a little gruff. Man, I was already full of possessiveness and we’d only had one sexual encounter. If I couldn’t convince Yvonne to be with me then I suspected this shit was going to hurt when she eventually pushed me away for good. But I wouldn’t be easily deterred. I was going to try my damnedest to convince her how amazing we could be together.
A car pulled up next to the kerb, the driver sticking his head out. “Conor Abrahams?”
He used my name since I’d booked it through my app. It was the only way to ensure Yvonne couldn’t try to pay since it all went through my account. If I gave her cash I wouldn’t put it past her to slip the money back in my pocket when I wasn’t looking. She was just that type.
“That’s right,” I said to the driver before bringing my attention back to Yvonne. I cupped her cheek in my hand, my voice low when I said, “Thank you for today. It was incredible.” Then I pressed a warm, chaste kiss to her lips before withdrawing. I could tell she was flustered by the way her breathing quickened.
“Right, sure,” she said, eyes fluttering. “Um, I guess I’ll see you on Christmas then?”
“See you on Christmas, Yvonne,” I replied and she nodded, lowering herself into the back of the car.
I stood on the sidewalk, watching as the car merged with the slow moving traffic. Frost nipped at my cheeks, but I barely felt it. I was far too consumed byher. Eventually, I returned to my office, though I could hardly focus on work the rest of the day. My brain kept replaying all the images of Yvonne that now lived rent free inside my head.
Over the following two days I wanted to contact her so many times but I forced myself to resist. Yvonne was skittish about this whole thing and if I threw myself at her too aggressively she was likely to scarper.
My parents and sister arrived the day before Christmas Eve for their visit, alongside Dylan’s dad, Tommy, and his new girlfriend, Bridget. They were all in their respective guest rooms sleeping off the jetlag and didn’t surface until the following morning.
I was in the kitchen, putting together breakfast for everybody. This had always been my favourite time of year, which meant I owned a vast collection of Christmas jumpers. The one I’d chosen for today featured Darth Vader sipping on mulled wine. At the bottom it read ‘Merry Sithmas”. I thought it was hysterical, although I’d been told on many occasions that my humour could be rather silly.
My sister, Bethany, appeared first. She looked well rested as she took a stool across the counter from me and poured herself some orange juice.
“So,” she began. “I hear Evelyn Flynn and her aunt Yvonne are coming to stay.”
Unfortunately, my little sister was aware of my old crush on Yvonne, and I had a feeling she didn’t plan on letting me live it down, especially not with her coming to spend the holiday with us.
“Yes, they’ll be arriving later this evening.” I flipped the strips of bacon sizzling on the pan.
Bethany smirked. “Are you going to try and hit that now that you’re all grown up and age appropriate? Or do you not still hold a candle for her?”
Little did she know, I’d already hit that. Sort of. But I had no intention of discussing such matters with my sister. “You’re in a nosy mood.”
She shrugged. “I just remember how moon-eyed you’d become whenever she was around when we were kids.”
“I think you mean when you were a kid,” I pointed out. There were eight years between us, after all. “I was a teenager.”
“Oh em gee, the candle still burns!” Bethany said giddily. “I feckin’ knew it. Have you told her?”
I worked my jaw. “I might have.”
Bethany leaned closer, resting her elbows on the counter like I was telling the most riveting story. “And what did she say?”
Exhaling heavily, I removed the pan from the heat and scooped several slices of bacon onto her plate. She accepted them without protest. “Well,” she probed, forking up a slice and taking a crunchy bite.
I looked my sister in the eye. “She said she’s not right for me.”
“Huh.” Bethany frowned. “Has she seen you lately?”
“Yes, Beth. She’s seen me.”
“And she still turned you down? That’s surprising.”
“Not really. Everyone gets turned down at some point in their lives,” I grumped before grabbing the pot of scrambled eggs and unloading those onto her plate with the bacon.
