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Blaire
Things with the festival had gotten back on track after the disastrous parade rehearsal. Even the actual parade itself went better than I expected after the train wreck I watched earlier that afternoon. It was me who was still feeling off the rails. I wasn’t even excited about rotating through my Christmas dresses underneath my blazers—I had more than enough to make it through the last week of the festival—I just reached into my closet at home at random for whatever dress was next in the row.
Yes, I was back to staying at my parent’s house every night. I really did feel like I needed to check in on presents with my mom when I told Cole that three days ago and my head did feel like it was going to explode after what I had overheard Cole and Tanya talking about, but I could have made it back to the Jitters’ loft that night if I needed to. I can admit I was hiding. I was hiding from Cole, but I was also hiding from the town, so I didn’t spill the news that I had failed them. I was honestly even hiding from my parents in their own home, so they didn’t look too closely into my eyes and read the news.
It’s not that Cole hadn’t reached out. I could sense his hurt and confusion, even through his texts. The day after the parade, I hid away from the town square at the start of the house decorating route—cars could pay $5 a head or bring one non-perishable item per person to go through the official route after dark. It was our charitable portion of the festival—but I heard from Susie he was in Jitters asking about me. He only reached out twice yesterday, and as far as I knew, hadn’t come by the festival at all. There was nothing from him yet today. I hated that even though I was intentionally avoiding him, I still wanted to hear from him, just so I could choose to ignore him.
I was lost in thought, walking through the town square, heading to check on the ornament auction set to take place from the gazebo in the next hour, when my phone started buzzing in my pocket. Fishing it out of my jacket, I saw Susie’s name appear on the home screen.
“Hey Susie, what’s up?”
“Hey Blaire, sorry to bug you, I know you’re swamped, but I hear a weird sort of pipe-clanking noise coming from up in the studio. Do you mind going by to check it out?”
I stopped in my tracks, turning to face Jitters. I may have been avoiding the studio because it was draped in memories of Cole and I tangled up together, both during the sexy times and during the sweet times where we were just talking or making our way through my yearly Christmas movie list, so I wasn’t thrilled about the idea of going up there, even for Susie.
“Are you not in the shop? I’m about ready to go—”
“Oh no, I’m here, but I can’t seem to find my key, and you have my extra. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I would just hate for the water heater to burst and flood the shop during the last few days before Christmas. I have all of my holiday meal desserts to finish up that people have been ordering for weeks.”
Damn, Susie was laying it on thick today.
“Okay, sure. I’m in the square now. I’ll be right over.”
“Thanks so much Blaire. I’ll have a mocha waiting for you when you’re done. Talk to you soon!”
Sighing, knowing that I would do pretty much anything for the woman who kept me caffeinated, I tucked my phone back into my pocket and started walking toward the alley. Hopefully, it would be just a quick fix, like turning off the radiator or something, and I could be in and out in just a second.
I walked up the stairs, hearing the echoes of Cole telling Tanya he didn’t believe in me and stopped at the door to fish out my key.
That’s weird. You would think if Susie could hear the clanking from inside Jitters, I would be able to hear it standing outside the door to the apartment, I thought to myself as I turned the key and twisted the handle to push the door open.
I stepped inside, scanning the room from right to left, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement.
“Fucking jingle bells!” I yelled on instinct, before taking in the familiar figure and realizing it was Cole standing in the kitchenette, leaning against the counter.
With my hand to my chest, I waited for my heart rate to slow down while I eyed that handsome brown-haired man, daring to stand there with his glasses on and shirt sleeves rolled up to show off his forearms. I looked beside him and yup, on the counter, there was that messenger bag.
“What are you doing here, Cole?”
“I like the candy canes today. They look good with the red blazer. Though the sleigh print from the day before last was pretty cute. What was on yesterday’s dress? I couldn’t tell.”
I blinked at him.
“Santa Clauses,” I responded warily. Why were we talking about my dresses? And did that mean he had been at the festival yesterday and had managed to find me the day before?
“What are you doing here, Cole?” I repeated.
“Well, I figured when you volunteered to sit at the collection station for the house tour after not returning my texts all day, when you told me a few weeks ago that’s where you stuck your least favorite volunteers because it was so boring, that meant you needed some space. And then yesterday, you were painting faces at the children’s festival, basically ensuring small people surrounded you all day, so we wouldn’t be able to get a moment alone without causing suspicion. But today was one too many days without you talking to me, so I may have convinced Susie to lure you here so we could talk.”
I continued to blink at Cole, amazed that he had slipped past my radar the past few days after being so in tune to his whereabouts for the week—okay, months—prior.
I was not having this conversation with him. I wasn’t ready, and I didn’t like the fact that he had used Susie and my peppermint mochas to trick me.
I eyed the door, trying to figure out if I could just walk out, now that it was apparent there was no pipe problem at all going on.
Cole apparently tracked my eye movement and figured out my plan, because he responded, “Go ahead. Try it, Blaire, and I will pick you up, pin you on that bed and we will have this conversation with me holding you down, so you have to talk to me.”
That got my nipples excited, those traitorous, nerve-filled buds. Down, girls, we are not thinking about him pinning us anywhere. We do not feel warm, fluttering, sexual feelings for men who think we are nothing more than our father’s connections and aren’t capable of succeeding.
