Home For The Holidays

by Elena Aitken

  He’d been avoiding her for a good reason. He’d never felt the way he felt about her about anyone else.

  Even on a simple car trip like they were on, he’d laughed more than he had with any other woman. She was easy to joke with, to talk to, to be around. It just felt right. Her.

  Not to mention the spark that always happened when he was around her. It was like being too close to the speakers at a concert. She made his entire body vibrate.

  Glancing at his watch, he pulled out his cell phone and shot a text to his sister, telling her that he was delayed.

  When he heard the lone shower turn on, he instantly wished for a shower himself. But knowing Alice and remembering how Chris always complained about how long his sister took in the bathroom, he figured he had some time. He decided to take a walk and stepped out onto the porch and took a deep breath. Coughing instantly from the chill coming off the Pacific, he bundled his jacket around him and set off towards the beach.

  Chapter 5

  The hot shower felt wonderful. She thought of Eric as she stood under the spray for almost ten minutes. Then, shaking the thought of spending the night under the same roof with him, she used the fancy guest shampoo and conditioner and cleaned up. She’d taken plenty of road trips in her life, and the best part of each one had been when the travel was over. But this trip hadn’t been that bad, mainly because of the conversations she’d had with Eric.

  It had been years since she’d spent the night under the same roof with Eric. Chris stopped having him over shortly after his thirteenth birthday.

  Alice had always believed it had something to do with her flirting with Eric, but her brother had never mentioned anything about it.

  What should she do now, she wondered, wiping the mirror free of fog. Her long wet hair hung around her shoulders. She didn’t want to spend the time to blow dry it, since she was just planning on eating something and crawling into bed to catch up on some sleep.

  She pulled on a fresh pair of yoga pants, a tank top, and a sweater. She took a few extra minutes to braid her hair and apply the lightest makeup so she didn’t appear too homey.

  But when she stepped out into the living room, he wasn’t there. Nor was he in the other bedroom. Walking over to the windows, she noticed his footprints in the snow, leading down towards the beach.

  She walked into the small kitchen to see what she could drum up for food. By the time Eric walked back into the cabin, she had a full pot of spaghetti and was pulling garlic toast out of the small toaster oven.

  “Wow,” Eric said, removing his jacket and hat, then sitting down on the side of the sofa and pulling off his shoes. “What’s all this?”

  “Dinner,” she answered, feeling slightly embarrassed.

  “You can cook now?” he asked, setting his shoes on the mat by the front door. They were covered in snow and sand. His dark hair was still dry, since he’d been wearing a beanie, but the tip of his nose and ears were a little red from the cold.

  “I made some coffee too.” She nodded towards the hot pot. “I figured you’d be cold when you came back.”

  She had set the small dinner table and had even found some candles to light.

  “The fire needs more wood.” He tossed a few logs on it before stepping up to the table. “It’s a good thing I thought to grab this.” He held up a bottle of wine. “She turned and smiled at him “You pour?”

  “Sure.” He chuckled.

  She finished putting the bread on the table and scooped some spaghetti onto their plates. She made sure to add an extra scoop onto his, since she remembered how much he ate.

  When he handed her a glass of wine, she was sitting at the table. “Thanks,” she said, feeling nervous.

  “This looks amazing. Chris never mentioned that you’d finally learned to make something other than mac and cheese,” he joked.

  “Chris has been away at college for the past few years,” she supplied then sipped the wine. “How was your walk?” she asked, hoping the alcohol settled her nerves.

  “Cold.” He laughed. “But amazing.” He took a bite and groaned with pleasure.

  “Good?” she asked, feeling even more nervous. She really hoped he would like it.

  “Very,” he agreed and took another bite. “I was so tired of potato chips and soda.” He reached for his wine glass and took a drink. “Now, if there was some beer in that fridge” She shook her head. “I didn’t think so.” He took another sip of his wine. “Still, you can’t beat a home-cooked meal.”

  “Does it look like it’s letting up out there?” She looked towards the dark windows.

  “No.” He frowned. “I checked the weather apps and it actually shows we could get two feet tonight.”

  “Two?” She almost dropped her fork.

  “Yeah, they’re expecting even more tomorrow during the day. We may be stuck here for a few nights.”

  She shrugged. “Thankfully, we have a full week before Christmas.” She smiled. “Chris is stuck in LA. All flights to Portland were canceled.”

  “He was going to fly?” Eric asked, sounding a little surprised. When she’d talked to her mother and found out that her brother was flying up instead of driving, she’d assumed Eric had been in on it.

  “Yes.” She frowned. “Didn’t you know?” He shook his head and continued to eat.

  “Did you talk to him?” he asked between bites.

  “No, I called my mother and told her we were stuck.”

  Eric cringed.

  “What was that for?”

  “Nothing.” He shrugged. Her eyes narrowed and he sighed when she gave him her “I’m not buying it” look. “It’s just… your folks… they know you’re with me?”

  “Yes,” she said slowly. “Why?”

  “I don’t think your father likes me,” he said quickly.

  “Of course, he likes you. He’s known you your entire life. My parents are practically your second parents.” She waved him off.

  “No, your mom loves me,” he corrected. “Your father on the other hand…” He suddenly shut his mouth and shook his head.

  “What?” She set her wine glass down without taking a sip.

  “Nothing.” He took another bite and picked up a slice of bread. “This is really—”

  “Eric,” she interrupted him. “What? Why do you think my father doesn’t like you?”

  He sighed and looked at her. “Because he sees how I look at you.”

  She felt as if she’d been hit in the gut with a sledgehammer.

  “How?” she asked softly.

  “You know how.” His eyes locked with hers.

  “No, I don’t.” She shook her head. “Tell me.”

  Instead of answering, he just sat across from her, watching her. The heat from his eyes as they ran slowly over her had her body vibrating with want. She’d always wanted him. Would always want him.

  “Eric?” His name was a whisper on her lips.

  The chair scraped as he stood up quickly. Her eyes followed him across the room. He stood for a moment, looking out the window.

  “I promised myself I wouldn’t do this,” he said, keeping his back to her. “I swore to Chris—”

  “My brother isn’t here,” she said quickly, causing him to turn around.

  “Obviously.” He groaned and turned away again. “If he was, he’d punch me in the gut just seeing the way I look at you.”

  “I look at you the same way,” she said, standing up. Their food on the table was all but forgotten as she walked across the room and stopped next to him. The beauty of the snow falling in the spotlight of the porch went unnoticed.

  She touched his arm. “Eric.” Before she’d finished his name, he had turned and wrapped his arms around her. He pulled her close until, finally, his lips covered hers in the most perfect kiss she’d ever experienced.

  He released her just as quickly as he’d taken her in his arms, his taste still on her lips. She wanted more. A lot more.

  But when she reached for him, he jer
ked away. “Go to bed,” he said, turning away from her again.

  “No.” She stopped herself from stomping her foot. “I’m tired of playing games. My brother has nothing to do…” He glanced over his shoulder at her.

  “You don’t want to finish that sentence.” He almost growled it out. “Chris is my best friend, first and foremost.”

  She swallowed the hurt that had welled up in her chest. “He’s not—”

  “I won’t betray his trust,” he broke in again. “Go.” He waved towards the back of the cabin. “I’ll clean up.”

  Turning quickly, she almost walked out of the room empty-handed, but then she backtracked, grabbed her glass of wine, and marched towards her bedroom. Stopping once more, she turned and, as he watched her, she took the entire bottle of wine with her as she disappeared into her bedroom. She thought she heard him chuckle behind her, but she was too angry to care.

  Slamming the door behind her, she leaned on the closed door and finished the first glass of wine. Then, still feeling pissed, she had another one for good measure.

  Chapter 6

  He needed a cold shower, but since he was still chilled from the long walk, which had been meant to clear his mind and body from wanting Alice, he settled on a warm one instead.

  Tucking the towel around his hips, he cursed under his breath when he realized he hadn’t brought any clothes with him into the bathroom.

  Piling his dirty clothes in his arms, he opened the bathroom door and almost dropped them when he saw Alice standing just outside, the empty bottle of wine in her hands.

  Her eyes ran from his face down his body slowly, causing whatever water drops were left on him to evaporate.

  “Go…” he started to say, but she stopped him by telling him to go to hell. “What was that?” He was slightly shocked. He’d never heard her curse before.

  “You heard me.” She glared at him. “Go to hell.” She wobbled slightly on her feet, telling him that she really had drunk the entire bottle of wine.

  “Alice,” he said softly, hoping to try another tactic.

  “Eric?” she asked, shaking her head slightly, then leaning against the wall for support.

  He chuckled. “Yes?” He crossed his arms over his chest and decided to wait her out. It was only a matter of time before she either sank to the ground, a drunken mess, or threw up. Either way, he would be ready for it.

  “You…” She waved the bottle at him, almost hitting him in the head. Luckily, he ducked and it grazed his shoulder instead. “You,” she started again, “aren’t allowed to kiss me like that.”

  “Okay,” he said slowly, sobering. “I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he agreed.

  “No.” She waved the bottle again. This time he easily caught her wrists in his hands and took the bottle from her. He set it in the bathroom, far away from her, so he didn’t get maimed.

  “No.” She shook her head. “You don’t get to kiss me… like that.” The last words were almost a whisper, as if they were a secret.

  “Okay.” He shook his head. “Like I said… I’m sorry…”

  “NO!” She waved her arms and raised her voice. “You don’t get to kiss me like…” She sighed and closed her eyes. “Like Wesley kissed Princess Buttercup.”

  He shook his head and smiled a little, knowing how to get a rise out of her. “Who?”

  Her eyes narrowed as if she’d been challenged. “Princess Bride.” She waved her hands again and he realized just how animated she was when she was drunk. “You know…” She cleared her throat and he remembered that she’d taken theater in school. Leaning back, he waited for the performance he guessed was coming. “Since the invention…” she started. It took her two tries to say invention and he smiled. “…of the kiss,” she continued, “there have been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure…” His smile fell away. There had been nothing pure about the kiss he’d given her. There was nothing pure now or ever about his thoughts towards her. “This one left them all behind,” she said after her eyes locked with his.

  Shit, he thought. Hell.

  “Go back to bed,” he said softly. When she shook her head, he broke in. “You don’t want to be around…”

  He was shocked when she stepped forward and plastered herself against his wet chest. The thin white tank top she was wearing got soaked by the water droplets that hadn’t evaporated from the heat of his body yet. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders.

  “Kiss me like that again. Just once more…” She leaned up on her toes and gently touched her lips to his.

  Had she done anything else, he would have had the willpower to deny her, but feeling those soft lips tenderly touch his, he was lost.

  Dropping all of his defenses for a brief moment, he forgot everything.

  “Alice,” he said when she reached for his towel. His hands gripped hers to keep them from pulling the towel free. Resting his forehead on hers, he shook his head. “I…”

  “Chris will never know,” she said, her brown eyes begging him.

  “I’d know. There’s no way anyone would see us together and not know. Besides…” He took a deep breath. “I have this fear that if I touch you once, I’ll never stop.”

  She smiled quickly, showing him the cute dimple next to her mouth, the one he’d dreamed of kissing for years.

  “Then don’t.” She tried to move his towel again, but he easily held her still.

  “I have another policy; I don’t take advantage of drunk women.”

  “I’m not that drunk,” she added, rolling her eyes.

  “Oh yeah?” He smiled. “Say the word invention again.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him in response. He chuckled. “You didn’t finish your dinner.” He’d cleared the dishes and put the leftovers in the fridge. “Why don’t you go in, heat it up and—”

  “I don’t want food,” she said, taking a step back. “I want you. I’ve wanted you for as long as I can remember.”

  He’d felt the same way but knew that there was no way he’d be able to live with himself if he allowed things to continue. He had promised Chris.

  Taking a giant step away from her, he bent to pick up the clothes he’d dropped to the floor. She moved closer to him. Tossing the clothes on the bed, he turned back to her. “Let’s go get you something to eat. Even if it’s not the spaghetti.”

  “I don’t—”

  “I bought a carton of ice cream.” He smiled when her eyebrows shot up.

  “Mint chocolate chip?” she asked.

  “Of course.” He smiled and nudged her towards the kitchen. “I’ll put on some clothes…” She turned back to him, hunger in her eyes. “Alone. I’ll meet you in the other room.” He pushed her playfully towards the kitchen.

  He pulled on a pair of his sweats and a T-shirt and walked into the other room. She was sitting in front of the dying fire with the entire carton of ice cream, and two spoons, in her lap.

  He tossed a couple more logs onto the embers and sat next to her.

  “Here.” She handed him one of the spoons, pulled her feet up onto the sofa, and opened the lid.

  “I’d forgotten you took theater,” he said, taking a scoop of the ice cream.

  “Junior high and high school.” She sighed as she took a bite. “I wanted to take acting classes at college, but…”

  “What?” he asked after she shrugged.

  She turned to him slightly. “I showed up and watched them practicing for a play they were putting on. Everyone was so much better than I was.” She took another scoop.

  “If my memory serves me right, you played the lead in almost every play.”

  “That doesn’t mean I’m that good. We only had two hundred kids in our high school. There were easily a hundred people in the theater class.” She frowned.

  “It’s not too late. Besides, just because you’re not the best doesn’t mean you couldn’t have learned something new. That is what college is all about.” He nudged her shoulder.

  “Be
sides, my schedule was seriously hectic.”

  “Now you’re making excuses.” He set his spoon down and leaned back on the sofa, suddenly really tired. The stress from driving in the deep slick snow had worn him out.

  “Not really,” she answered. “I guess I just… grew out of it all.” She shrugged and he could tell she was really thinking about something deeply. “Even school.” She shook her head as if she hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

  “I thought you were really excited about school?” He asked, thinking of how she’d talked about it earlier.

  “I’m just… tired of it all.” She glanced at him sideways.

  He leaned up again. “Of school?”

  “Yeah.” She set the carton down and wrapped her arms around herself. “I thought college would be like high school, only… better.”

  “It’s not?” he asked, knowing his own experiences. He’d never been as good at school as Alice and Chris, but he managed to keep straight A’s with a lot of arduous work.

  “No.” Her eyes moved to his. “I suppose I miss my old friends.”

  When she moved closer to him, he stood up and took the ice cream back to the freezer. “Alice.” He turned and realized she’d followed him. He almost bumped into her. He took her shoulders in his hands. “I can’t do this.”

  “Can’t or won’t?” she asked softly.

  “Both,” he answered. “Besides, I’m very tired.” He figured that would stop her. Her eyes moved to the dark windows and he watched her shoulders slump.

  “I suppose we’re going to be stuck here for a few days.”

  He watched the heavy snowflakes falling in the light outside and agreed. “Looks that way.”

  Without a word, she turned away from him and started walking to her room.

  “Night,” he called out.

  She stopped in the doorway. “This isn’t over,” she said softly before shutting the bedroom door.