Page 114 of Merry Christmas, You Filthy Animal
When he takes a seat again, he stares at the fire.
“Thank you... for coming to check on me,” I say.
He still stares at the fire as he nods. “Of course.”
“And for bringing me here and bringing Buzz. And taking care of me. You... you didn’t have to?—”
“I’m not that guy, Betty,” he says, startling me. He slightly turns his head so he’s looking at me. “I’m not the guy Dwight paints me as. And I know he’s done a pretty good job making me look like the bad guy, but I promise you, I’m not that man.”
The way he looks at me, like he’s pleading for me to believe him, it nearly splits me in half.
“Bringing you here, it wasn’t so I could manipulate you, so you could believe that I’m some kind of good guy when I’m not. I brought you here because the moment I thought that you might not have a backup power source, I felt this deep-rooted panic inside me. I tried texting, Storee tried calling, and when no one could get to you, I knew I had to go to your place. And when I saw you in the dark, freezing, my stomach dropped. I was... I was fucking terrified, Betty.” He pushes his hand through his hair. “Seeing you, lifeless like that... it terrified me. And it terrified me because I care about you. Genuinely, from the bottom of my soul, I care about you. This isn’t an act. This isn’t some revenge on Dwight. This feeling I have, in my goddamn chest, this thumping, pulsing feeling, it’s me caring for you.” He stands from the couch. “And I can’t... I can’t just get over it. It’s why I’ve tried to get close to you as you’ve tried to come up with ways to harm my farm. It’s why I’ve spent countless hours thinking about you, why I spent a night looking for every sprig of mistletoe I could find so I could kiss you, and it’s why this morning, when I saw you walk toward me in the coffee shop, my heart skipped a beat. I like you. It’s as simple as that. I like you.”
And before I can even respond, he takes off toward the kitchen, leaving me with a heavy heart full of guilt.
Because I believe him.
Max
I press my hands into the counter, taking a few deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart.
I’ve never done that before.
Ever. I’ve never put my heart on the line like that, told a woman how I feel, and fuck, it’s terrifying but also freeing.
There’s only so much I can say to convince her, to let her know that I’m not the person Dwight portrays me as. I just hope... I hope she can possibly believe me. I stand taller, looking around the kitchen. It’s fucking late, I’m tired, exhausted, and honestly, I just want to go to bed, so I lock the back door, straighten the dirty dishes—I splash a little water on them so they don’t crust overnight—and then I walk back into the living room, where she’s still seated on the couch, staring at the fire.
“Um, I’m going to go brush my teeth. I should have grabbed some items for you when I went back to your place, but I’ll pick out some clothes and bring them down for you.”
She absently nods, so I take that as my moment to leave. I head upstairs and grab my toothbrush, a brand-new toothbrush for her, and some toothpaste. Then I rifle through my pajamas, looking for something that might fit her, but they’re all huge. I consider grabbing a pair of my mom’s, but that seems even weirder to me, so I take my smallest pair of pants downstairs along with the wipes in case she wants to wash up.
I bring everything to the downstairs bathroom and quickly get ready for bed, glancing in the mirror occasionally to see that my hair has curled in weird ways and my eyes look tired and worried.
A real treasure.
Shaking my head, I go back to the living room and say, “Uh, bathroom is all yours. There’s some water in there, so when you go to the bathroom, just put water down the toilet, and it should do the trick. I left a flashlight on in there for you, so you don’t get lost. And, uh, there’s a brand-new toothbrush in there as well, dentist approved if you’re worried. Oh, and some pajama pantsif you want something to change into. They’re flannel but will probably be huge on you.” I tug on my neck. “I can sleep on the couch, and you can take the air mattress so you’re closer to the fire. I wasn’t planning on having a guest, or else I’d have blown up another air mattress, but I’d have to go digging for it.”
“It’s fine,” she says and then scoots to the edge of the couch.
I’m quick to rush over. “Do you need help?”
She shifts the blankets off her, and a chill takes over her entire body, causing her to shake. “No... I’m good.”
“You sure?”
She nods, but I still take her hand in mine and help her to her feet. When she’s fully standing, she looks up at me, those ocean eyes of hers nearly splitting me in two.
“Um, let me get out of your way,” I say. I step to the side. “Bathroom is down the hall on the right. Yell if you need anything.”
“Thanks,” she says softly and then heads that way... slowly.
I waver between helping her to the bathroom and holding back. She’s weaker than I thought she’d be. Then again, being that cold for that long, it takes a toll on the body. She’s probably exhausted, so I should make her a comfortable place to rest.
While she’s in the bathroom, I set up the bed so there’s a fitted sheet and top sheet on the mattress, something I planned to bypass because I was by myself, but now that she’s here, I want her to be as comfortable as possible. I place a few blankets down, then fold it all at the top, and put a pillow down as well. When I’m happy with it, I place another log on the fire, take the spare pillow and blanket, and toss them on the couch just as she comes back into the living room. She’s wearing my pajama top, which she put on earlier, but it seems like she took her sweatshirt off, and she’s wearing the pair of pajama pants I let her borrow, but they’re dragging on the floor.
Fuck . . . it’s adorable.
When she sees the bed that’s set up, she glances over at the couch, and she makes a displeased expression. “Is that what you’re sleeping with?”
