Page 77 of The Other Side
“For breakfast, I get these frozen croissants from the market in town. I have to put them out the night before to proof, but they bake like a dream, perfectly flakey and crispy.”
“We’re definitely getting some of those.” Chance nodded in agreement.
“I watch holiday movies all day on my laptop. Last year I watched them up in the lounge, with the fire going—it was perfect. And I only stop them to make mac and cheese from scratch for dinner.”
Chance half choked on his bite of pie. “You can make it from scratch?”
I nodded, unable to hold back the smile on my face, so pleased that such a simple feat impressed him that much.
“I also have to get a bottle of sparkling cider. That was the one thing my mom would always splurge on for Christmas, so I have to have it.”
Chance continued nodding.
“With the lounge at my disposal, I added one last part to the tradition. In the evening, when I was ready to wind down, I put on the Bing Crosby Christmas album, made myself a cup of hot chocolate—you can be in charge of that this year.” Chance smiled, nodding emphatically. “And I watched the snow fall while sitting in the window seat.” I motioned toward one of the window benches that was perfectly nestled in the bay windows along the wall opposite from the bookshelves.
“What happens if it doesn’t snow?”
“That’s the best part. As long as there’s snow on the roof, it blows off the eaves and always looks like it’s snowing fromthe window seats.” I took in a deep breath, smiling as I remembered how cozy it had felt last year. I had been able to arrange everything in the lounge by then, but was just starting to alphabetize the books. But finding the lounge had been the best Christmas gift I’d ever gotten. I needed it. My soul had needed it. It still did.
“And you’re really going to let me enjoy your traditions with you this year?” Chance asked hesitantly. “Last I checked, you weren’t sold on even being friends.”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “Yes, I suppose I would consider you a friend at this point.”
“Maybe we can just be friends that make out occasionally?” Chance’s trademark smirk turned devilish.
“Let me finish another glass of wine and you might get your wish.” I grabbed the bottle.
Chance rolled his eyes. “That’s not—” He stopped himself, turning serious all of the sudden. “I meant what I said earlier, about waiting.”
I glanced up at him, setting the now empty wine bottle on the table between us. “I know,” I said softly. “I don’t think I’m ready yet…” I paused, averting my gaze while I gathered the courage to complete my thought. I looked back up at him, his eyes a storm of emotion. “But I want to be. I’m—I want to try.”
Chance’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, the impact of my admission hitting him with the full force with which I had intended it to. “You mean something to me, whether you want to or not, so I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
I nodded. I knew I should have been more concerned about the school catching wind of everything, but maybe everyone who had been encouraging me was right, that the school didn’t enforce their stupid rule. And as my trust in Chance bloomed, I really believed that he would do whatever he could to keep it a secret.
“Do you think we could maybe start your holiday tradition a little early?” he asked.
I cocked my head. “A month early?”
“It’s Thanksgiving. I know the perfect movie.” He smiled.
“Okay,” I agreed.
After getting his laptop set up with the movie, Chance wrapped his arm around me, pulling me into his chest. He must have sensed me stiffen at the closeness, so he said, “Don’t worry, I won’t try anything. I promise.”
I relaxed upon hearing his words, and felt myself drifting off not long after. As I was surrounded by the warmth of his body, I listened to the steady beating of his heart and realized I wanted it to belong to me. I needed to find a way to trust him with mine; that was the only way—a mutual exchange.
I had to get over the fact that uncertainty would always be a possibility, but it didn’t mean I shouldn’t try. There were no guarantees in life. There were no guarantees that love would last, but we were also not guaranteed there would be another tomorrow to try again.
As I ruminated over the possibilities, I felt Chance’s warm breath against my skin just before he placed a soft kiss at my temple and whispered, “Goodnight, little muse.”
