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I had to get out of her living room before I blew, and Stevie thought I was mad at her.
I was anythingbutmad at Stevie.
“Fucking bastard,” I growled.
Tony and I had always had a suspicion that Paul was a dick, but we never had proof in front of our faces. Stevie always gushed about him, and he always seemed to be on his best behavior.
Fucking narcissist.
He had left Stevie at the altar under the guise of changing his mind and not wanting to hurt Stevie. What a crock of shit.
I had done a little digging into Paul the past few days and found that Stevie was not the only person in his life. He ditched Stevie because how was he supposed to have four girlfriends when he was going to make Stevie his wife sitting at home?
I hated the guy when I found out about the cheating, but now I wanted to kill him for treating Stevie like a servant.
“Claus.”
I spun around, surprised, and saw Stevie standing on the threshold. “Jesus,” I mumbled.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “Uh, I just wanted to tell you that you can go home. You don’t need to stay. I’m not even hungry right now.”
“Not leaving, sweets. I just needed a moment.”
“You were only here for five minutes and needed a moment?” she asked.
I needed a moment to keep myself from finding Paul and killing him. I didn’t need a moment from Stevie. “Had nothing to do with you.”
“Well, whatever. You can go. I’m getting tired and plan just to fall asleep.”
I tossed my cigarette on the ground and stubbed it out with the toe of my boot. “Not leaving.” It had taken me days to get the nerve to show up at Stevie’s door, and I wasn’t ready to leave yet.
“Claus,” she sighed. “I don’t feel like entertaining.”
I shook my head. “When have you ever had to entertain me, sweets? I stayed at your house more than I did my own. Let’s eat dinner and watch TV. You don’t even have to talk to me if you don’t want to.”
She leveled her gaze at me. “All I wanted to do was eat Chinese food until I felt like I would throw up and decorate my living room while watching Christmas movies.”
I nodded and stepped toward her. “Sounds like a chill night to me. I’m in.”
“Claus,” she protested.
“I’m not leaving, Stevie.” My words were final. She didn’t even have to speak to me as long as she let me in.
“I’m not kidding when I say I just want to decorate my tree.”
I tugged on the end of the Santa hat I was still wearing. “I’m just the man to help with that job.”
She backed into the house and held the door open for me. “Not a peep,” she muttered.
I zipped my fingers across my lips and pretended to toss the key over my shoulders.
I slipped back into the house. I was still pissed about what a tool Paul was, but I didn’t want to show it. I didn’t want Stevie to think that I was mad at her or that anything was her fault.
Our plates were still on the coffee table, and I sat in front of mine.
This would be the first and last plate Stevie would ever make for me.
I was a thirty-one-year-old man who was more than capable of making my own plate.
