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“Well, if it’s any consolation, I’m glad you did. Perhaps during my summer vacation I thought a bit about you. "
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“What did you think about?”
“You have a great butt.”
Harry laughs, the sounds making me feel warm inside.
“Do I now?”
“Well, I guess. Honestly, butts aren’t something I look at typically. I don’t know if yours is better than others. I just like it.”
“That’s nice. I like yours too.” He sighed and pulled me closer.
I bite my lip and blush. I’ve had a few boyfriends in the past. They were nice. But no one seems to get me like Harry does. He has this insane ability to melt my cold heart and we’re so comfortable together. That’s the main difference. Comfortable and easy going, not riddled with expectations.
The others were business people like me. We talked about work. Even when we had sex, it was as if I did it because I should and not because we wanted to feel each other. With Harry, I want to feel him. When he touches me, I feel amazing.
When he looks me in the eye, I feel cherished.
I feel loved.
Loving my parents is easy. I knew them from the day I was born. They showed me love and told me they loved me. It never felt forced. Loving other people, on the other hand, I didn’t think I was capable of.
I thought it was me. I was too cold and had a hard time connecting with people. As I lay in Harry’s arms, I realize it wasn’t me. The partners I chose made it so hard. I’m not meant to love someone like them.
Wait.Do I love Harry?
I look up at him as he causally looks at the ceiling with his hand behind his head. I play scenarios in my mind of not having Harry around. What would it feel like if I didn’t see him at Christmas or when I come home at night? Not spending the morning having coffee together?
Oh, no. I don’t like that at all.
I cuddle closer to him, uncomfortable with all scenarios where this ends on Monday.
I have to find a way to make this work.
“You know, it’s going to get dark soon. We should get the tree,” Harry says, breaking my train of thought.
“Oh, okay,” I stutter.
Harry kisses me on the nose and we get dressed.
“Where are we going to find a tree?” I ask after we get in the car.
“I know this girl. She lives an hour from here. She has a Christmas tree farm. We’ll go there.”
“Ooh, a girl?” I tease.
“Yes. Well, a woman. She’s a grownup,” Harry says, sheepishly.
Harry turns on the radio.Rockin’ Around the Christmas Treestarts to play, and he looks over at me.
“This song isn’t so bad,” I admit.
“Wow. Ayaka Calloway likes Christmas music now,” he says sarcastically.
