by Kate Benson
I give him a small and simple smile, quietly thanking him for his kindness. I pull my eyes away, silently cursing the feelings blossoming even further in my chest.
I’ve been fighting the same jolt of butterflies swarming in my chest all morning, but for some reason, this swirl suddenly feels like its shifting into a hurricane.
I give myself another chastising pep talk, a quick call from who I can only assume is his girlfriend exactly the reminder I need.
We sit quietly together, the sound of his fingers tapping on his keyboard and the almost silent swish of the pages I’m turning the only sounds registering for quite some time. Occasionally, one of us will say something, but for the most part, we sit together in some of the best companionable silence I’ve ever experienced with anyone outside of Marissa. In fact, I’m so engrossed in this stolen moment of peaceful silence that when I reach for my latte, the sound of my straw slurping in retreat announcing I’ve reached the bottom of the cup makes me jolt slightly in my seat.
I’m hoping I’ve played it off but judging from the low chuckle leaving his chest on the other side of the table, I’m guessing otherwise. When I become brave enough to glance over, I find him resting his chin easily in his palm, the gesture something I’m becoming more and more familiar with after having watched him sit the same way over the course of the last couple of hours.
What isn’t familiar, however, is finding his eyes aren’t glued to the computer anymore at all.
Right now, he’s focused solely on me.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters, moving his eyes back to the monitor, flush covering both our cheeks just enough.
“For what?” I ask, clearing my throat of the anxious nerves resting there now. “I’m not even sure what you’re talking about.”
“Okay,” he says low, his lips curling up on either side for a split second before he rights himself and I go back to my book.
My eyes don’t register any of the words.
It’s immediately obvious that there’s something different there between us than there had been this morning. While I don’t see things as anymore than a simple friendship being started, there certainly can’t be with him already in a relationship, I no longer feel like he’s little more than a random, good looking stranger staring back at me in the middle of a coffee shop.
“What are you drinking?” I ask as I lift myself from the chair and move to stretch. “I’m heading up for round two. If you watch my stuff, I’ll get your coffee.”
“You don’t have to…”
“I know,” I cut him short. “But you bought me breakfast and saved me a spot and you didn’t have to do that, either.”
“Okay,” he concedes with a small smile of gratitude.
I move through the line quickly; the haze of my wonderful book being lifted revealing the crowd has mostly died out around us and been replaced with the usual customers I’d seen over the last few days. I’ve been so wrapped up, I hadn’t noticed and when I return to our table, I don’t miss the fact that his usual spot is now open once more, yet he’s staying in place.
“Here you go,” I say quietly, placing his odd concoction onto the table beside him and bringing his eyes up from his cell phone.
“Thanks.”
“Well, don’t thank me yet,” I reply, taking a long sip from my coffee before I glance over at him with a smirk of amusement. “I’ve never even heard of your coffee order before, so there’s a fairly good chance I said the whole thing completely wrong and mucked it up.”
“I doubt that very seriously,” he chuckles. “It’s not on the regular menu, but I’ve called it something different every day and still gotten the right thing, so I’m sure it’s perfect.” He takes a long sip, the low hum of satisfaction leaving his chest making me smile to myself. “See? That’s some good crack.”
I giggle again, loudly this time and it pulls one from him almost instantly. He’s about to speak once more when his phone dings quietly and cuts him off. I watch him set his cup down and look down at his phone once more, typing something quickly before he faces me again.
“So, what’s in it?” I ask, gesturing toward the cup. “The lady didn’t tell me, she just nodded and laughed when I ordered a large iced Christmas Crack latte.”
“Haven’t you ever had the candy? The crunchy chocolate stuff with the peanut butter and powdered sugar in it?” he asks, his thick eyebrows scrunching together in surprise when I shake my head. “Really? My crazy Aunt Patti makes it for me every year for Christmas. It’s so fucking good,” he insists, smiling wider when I laugh at his enthusiasm. “Seriously. It’s the only thing I ever ask for,” he continues. “Anyway, since I’m here, I won’t see her this year, but I’ve been craving it like crazy. I asked the barista at the counter the first day I came in if they had anything like it and that’s when I found out they made a coffee version. Ever since then, I’ve been all over it. I mean, it isn’t exact. It tastes a lot closer to hot cocoa with all the chocolate in it, but it’s one of my favorite things about Christmas, so that says a lot.”
“Yeah?” I start, the thought of the holiday approaching already tempting my face to morph into a scowl.
“It’s the best day of the whole year,” he says whimsically, making my chest freeze. “I mean, who doesn’t love Christmas?” he continues. “Crazy people, amiright?”
“Sure,” I chuckle weakly, retreating to the comfort of my own coffee and knowing in this moment, despite how nice and positively dreamy he seems to be, I can never tell Dimples the truth. He’s one of them. If I ever have any hope of continuing this easy friendship with him, I have no choice. I’ll have to lock this dirty little secret away forever. “You said it.”
Chapter Eight
Dex
“So, what’s your name?” she asks, her voice pulling my eyes up to find her leaning back in the chair she’s been occupying for most of the morning.
“Dex,” I reply, sliding my phone onto the table, silently hoping Kim doesn’t text me again.
At least not while I’m here with her.
Although I can’t deny the feelings I had for Kim when we first met didn’t last as long as I’d hoped they would, things between us have only been over for a matter of days.
Not only that, I’m not one of those dirtbags who makes promises and then bails when shit gets awkward. Once everything between Kim and I is said and done, I’d still like to be her friend. Hell, I still am her friend. Otherwise, I’d never have agreed to help her with this secret all week. And regardless of the attraction I felt immediately toward Slash and the way it’s continuously growing by the minute, she thinks we’re still together. Even if I was willing to break the promise I’d made to Kim, I really can’t imagine me hitting on this girl when she thinks I’m with someone else would make me come off all that favorable.
Ending things with her doesn’t mean she doesn’t still deserve to keep both my respect and her dignity in tact along the way. I’ve got a list of faults, same as anyone else, but you won’t see selfish douchebag on there.
At least I can say with confidence that neither of us are living with the illusion that our relationship is seconds away from some kind of hairbrained Christmas miracle just waiting to resolve all our issues. We don’t even have any issues, we just aren’t into each other like that anymore.
The only thing that’s kept me sane over the last few days is the quirky, still nameless girl sitting across from me reading slasher books. The same girl whose eyes I thought about last night as I fell asleep.
“That’s a pretty weird name,” Slasher says, her blunt words making my lips quirk up on either side. She immediately blushes crimson, almost like she didn’t know the blunt words were coming any more than I did. “Sorry,” she says immediately. “Not weird, just unique. That’s what I meant.”
“It’s cool,” I wave her off. “I mean, it is pretty weird,” I allow with a shrug. “It’s a nickname, though. My real name is Dexter, but no one outside of my grandmother calls me that
and even then, she only uses it when I’m in the shithouse for something.”
“Ahh,” she nods, returning my smile.
“How about you?”
“What about me?”
“What’s your name?” I ask, chuckling once more.
“Oh,” she smirks. “Abby. Abby Baker.”
“Well, Abby, Abby Baker,” I reply with a smile as I lift my cup, tilting it toward her in gratitude before I take a quick sip. “Thank you very much for the coffee.” I move to stand, her eyes following me as I rise from my seat and begin to collect my things. “As well as the company. It’s been a real pleas-”
“Are you leaving because I said your name was dumb?” she cuts me off, making me choke on my laughter. Her cheeks are once again blazing as I face her, my eyebrow raised at her boldness. “I mean… shit… I didn’t mean… I just meant…” she tries before finally releasing a small sigh of frustration at her own inarticulateness. “As you may have noticed, I’m not very good at talking to people.”
“You don’t say?” I tease, making her bury her face with her palms in embarrassment. “No, I’m not leaving because you’ve blatantly insulted me,” I continue, hoisting my laptop bag onto my shoulder with a wide grin that only grows wider as she pulls her hands down swiftly, revealing a deadpanned expression. “I’m just screwing with you. I’m leaving because I need to go to the hospital.”
Her eyes move over me quickly before the come back to mine, her head tilting in slight confusion.
“Why? What’s wrong with you?”
“Schizo,” I say, my expression grave.
“For real?” she asks with wide eyes.
“Nope,” I shake my head, laughing at her gullible reaction. “I was kidding. I volunteer at the kids hospital every year and since this is the first Christmas I’ve been in Cringle Cove, I have to go down there and make sure I’ve got all my ducks in a row before tomorrow.”
“Oh, that’s really cool,” she says, resting her chin on her palm as she holds my eyes. “What do you do up there?”
“I dress up as Santa,” I reply. For a moment, I watch her eyes widen for a split second before she rights her expression and it evens out. If I didn’t know better, I’d say the look was one of terror. “What was that?”
“What was what?”
“That face?” I smirk.
“That’s just my face,” she says quickly, doing her best to cover her tracks.
“Okay,” I brush her odd behavior off. “What’s wrong? Don’t you believe in Santa?”
“Well… not now,” she admits, looking at me through narrowed eyes before leaning forward. “Oh, my God. Do… do you?”
“Well, obviously.”
Her eyes roll slightly at my sarcasm before she begins to gently strum her fingernails against her chin, deep in thought.
“I thought The Beckett’s covered the whole Santa thing around here?” she asks. “Aren’t you afraid of slipping into some kind of turf war or something?”
“Nah,” I shake my head. “I mean, you’re right. Hunter’s got Cringle Cove this year since his dad’s out of commission, but the hospital’s ten minutes outside of town, so I’ll be out of his jurisdiction.”
“Hmm… I don’t know,” she considers, eyes still narrowed as she leans back into her seat, sipping her drink. “It still seems pretty risky. You might want to keep your eyes peeled, buddy.”
“Well, thank you for your concern, but I really think I’ll be okay.”
“Do you?” she asks, a dash of both victory and suspicion staining her mistrusting voice. “The Beckett’s have had dibs on the whole Santa market for years. I mean, they seem like really nice people, but you never know what’s going on behind those closed doors,” she sighs, shaking her head as she holds my eyes. “For all we know, they’ve got eyes all over this town just waiting to launch a bucket of yellow snowballs at the head of anyone trying to edge them out.”
“I’m not trying to edge anyone out!”
“Whatever you say,” she shrugs.
“I’m not!”
“Hey, man, it’s your story,” she proclaims, putting her hands up in mock surrender. “I’ll let you tell it however you want to, just watch your ass,” she warns me before returning her attention to her book, her voice low as she begins singing to herself. “I hope that jelly belly you’ll be wearing is padded.”
“Bye, Abby,” I reply, laughing loudly at her dramatics as I step away from the table. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Same time, same corner, sugarplum,” she replies, her eyes still trained on the paperback, though I don’t miss the smirk on her lips or the way it warms my chest. “I’ll be here all week.”
***
After a quick tour of the pediatrics wing and a few words with the coordinator I’ve been working with for the past few weeks, I head back toward my Jeep in the visitor’s lot, unable to keep the smile from my face.
While this isn’t the first time I’ve volunteered to dress up as Santa for the holidays, it’s the first year I’ve been able to do it in the place that helped shape my love for this holiday. By the time I slip behind the wheel, I’m positively giddy just thinking about how much fun tomorrow morning is going to be.
I find two missed calls on my phone from Kim and I dial her quickly, biting the inside of my cheek with a silent prayer that she hasn’t called for some overly dramatic reason. When she answers on the second ring sounding out of breath, I can’t help but hold mine.
“Hey, where are you? I called you twice and you didn’t answer.”
“I told you I had that meeting with the events coordinator at the hospital this afternoon.”
“Oh, yeah. I guess you did,” she admits, her voice falling just slightly. “Did you already go?”
“Yeah, I just got done talking to him and setting everything up. I’m about to head back into town. Why do you ask?”
“No reason, really,” she says, her voice doing very little to hide the lie. “I just…”
“What is it, Kim?”
“Well, I know on the way up I promised you that I would still come and help you with this kids thing at the hospital tomorrow in exchange for… well, you know,” she trails off for a moment, our secret hanging in the air between us before she continues. “Anyway, well the thing is that this morning, my sister told me about this sale she wants me to go to with her and it’s only for a few hours and overlaps with the same time as your thing…”
“Okay,” I say, my words leaving me slowly. “Well, did you tell her you’ve already committed to helping me with this?”
“I tried to. I really, really did, but…”
“Kim,” I cut her off, raking my palm over my face.
“Dex, I did! But she got all huffy and weird and I could tell it hurt her feelings,” she replies, her voice coming out rushed. “I mean, what was I supposed to do?”
“What were you supposed to do? Kim, you were supposed to tell her you had other plans,” I reply, shaking my head. “I told you this was important to me.”
“Well, what about what’s important to me?” she counters.
“I get that, but you promised me you would help me. You gave me your word.”
“I only get to see my sisters like once a month! I didn’t even want to do the hospital thing, but you helped me, so I was trying to be nice, Dex!”
“You think this is nice?” I ask, unable to keep the shake of annoyed laughter from my lips. “I mean, we talked about this a month ago and we’re due there first thing tomorrow morning. If you didn’t want to do it, then you should have said that when I asked you. I mean, hell! You could have talked to me at any point in the entire month leading up to this, given me some kind of notice or something,” I insist. “Why did you bother committing to something like this if you thought you there was even a possibility you wouldn’t follow through?”
“Because I knew you’d get all high and mighty like you always do,” she rolls her eyes. “You act like you’re the only
one who ever does any volunteer work or as if you’re the only person in the whole world who does anything nice for anyone,” she accuses. “It drives me crazy!”
“That isn’t what this is about, Kim. None of this is even about me.”
“Then what is it about?”
“There are dozens of children waiting, expecting us there tomorrow, Kim,” I sigh. My eyes move toward the building in front of me, my stomach swirling with a combination of frustration and nerves. “They’re all amped up and excited to meet Santa and an elf tomorrow and the thought of letting them down is just…” I trail off, swallowing the emotion in my throat for a moment before I steel myself to continue. “I just don’t know why you couldn’t be honest about it. It’s not like I wouldn’t have understood you wanting to spend time with your family.”
She says nothing in return, yet the sounds of voices still coming from the other side of the line tell me she’s still there.
I wait a full beat for her to respond, but she doesn’t.
“Are you going to say anything?”
“Let’s not fight, Dex,” she replies, making me think maybe at the very least she’s working her way toward a half-assed apology. “I mean, it’s not like you can’t still do it. Santa’s the main attraction anyway. Kids don’t really give two shits about the elves anyway, right?”
She laughs lightly, her effort at trying to lighten a mood I’m not sure is capable of being lightened right now and I can’t help but shake my head.
“That’s really not the point,” I sigh, staring out the windshield into nothing in particular as I think of her words.
“Then what is the point, Dex?” she asks, her own irritation seeping through her voice as she releases a sigh to match mine. “I mean, I think we both made it pretty clear on the way up that things with us are…” she trails off and her unspoken thoughts are shouting louder than anything else she’s ever said to me. “I’m not sure what you want me to do.”
“You don’t have to do anything. I don’t need you to come, Kim,” I shake my head once more, releasing a sigh not just for the letdown, but for the relief that comes with both of us finally admitting, even if in the most passive way possible, that this thing between us has run its course. I may not have feelings for her anymore, maybe never truly did if I’m honest, but I also have never wanted to see her hurt because she just isn’t the one. Suddenly, I don’t feel so bad about ending things. “Don’t worry about it, okay? Go enjoy shopping with your sister. I’ll figure something out.”