Her Pretend Christmas Date: A Lesbian Christmas Romance

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Her Pretend Christmas Date: A Lesbian Christmas Romance Page 8

by Alexa Woods


  Even if her body was flushed with heat and her heart was beating painfully and she was wildly unsatisfied with how things ended in that room. Not just physically. Even if she’d had crazy hot sex in that room, she still wouldn’t be satisfied and that bothered her more than anything.

  “Morgun!” Laney caught up with Morgun just as she was flinging the door open to go outside to the parking lot. “Morgun, wait!”

  Morgun didn’t turn. She kept on walking. She walked with powerful strides, her hips and bottom swaying suggestively. Laney nearly groaned. She knew it would kill Morgun to realize how attractive she was right now when she clearly didn’t want to be.

  She stopped in front of Laney’s car, crossed her arms, and waited.

  Laney wanted to say something. She knew she should attempt to make this better. She had no idea what to say and she knew the words wouldn’t come. She was shit with emotions. Talking about feelings wasn’t something she’d ever been good at.

  “Here.” Laney handed over the envelope after reaching into her car’s glovebox to retrieve it.

  Morgun snatched it out of her hand. She didn’t rub salt in the wounds by counting it. She clutched it and gave Laney a foul look. “You’re terrible,” she informed Laney. “You’re horrible and cold and awful.”

  Laney swallowed. Morgun looked like she meant all of that, and it stung. Even if Laney was used to hearing much, much worse. Seeing Morgun hurting bothered her. It bothered her a lot.

  “I really am sorry. I’m just trying to keep you from being hurt. Angry is one thing. Hurt is another.”

  “Sure. Say whatever it is to excuse you from having to have any responsibility for anything. The wedding was pretty nice. That orgasm was pretty nice too. The only thing that wasn’t nice? You. You’re not nice. I’m glad I won’t see you again after tonight.” Morgun wrenched open her clutch and found her phone. “Don’t worry about calling me a cab. I’ve got it.”

  “Let me pay for it at least.”

  Morgun shook her head fiercely. “Just go back inside. I’m good. Thanks.” It wasn’t a nice kind of thanks. It was a sarcastic, mean, biting thanks.

  Laney knew she would probably just make everything worse if she didn’t do what Morgun asked her to do and just get out of her space. She capitulated, locked her car, and went back into the arts building. She waited just inside the door where she could see Morgun, standing in the parking lot until a cab arrived and she got in.

  Laney liked to tell herself that she didn’t care. As a rule, she didn’t even like other people. But with Morgun? It was somehow different. She couldn’t explain it to herself, but she knew it was true.

  She let out a sigh as the cab pulled away. At least she wouldn’t have to see Morgun again. She should be happy that they’d pulled off the deal and now she would be free from her family’s harassment. She was happy about that. That soft sigh that she couldn’t hold back should have just been one of relief, but even Laney had to admit it was tinged with regret.

  Chapter 13

  Laney

  In the Sterling household, Helena’s turkey was legendary. When Laney walked in the front door of her parent’s house classically and purposefully cutting it close, the smell immediately greeted her. Her mom told her dinner would be at five. She’d shown up at four fifty-eight.

  She found her family gathered in the living room, her mom perched in her favorite rocking chair, ready to fly out of it and straight into the kitchen, her dad on the couch with the remote in his hand, glued to some sports game on the TV, Jason and Natasha on the love seat, holding hands. They all turned to look at her when she walked in.

  “Hey…” Laney hated being the center of attention. She almost wished she’d gotten there hours ago, but she’d lied about having some editing she couldn’t get away from, just so that her parents wouldn’t have a chance to get her alone and question her about Morgun.

  “Hey.” Natasha beamed at her.

  Jason grunted. Her dad grunted too. Both of them were so tuned in to the game that they couldn’t be bothered to greet her properly. Laney had a suspicion that if she’d come in with a flame thrower on her back and torched the huge Christmas tree in the corner of the room, they wouldn’t have noticed. She nearly smiled at the idea.

  She wasn’t a fan of the holiday. She basically hated everything about it from the tacky décor to the obnoxious gatherings and the massive interruption to her work schedule. Unlike some people, who got a break at Christmas, things picked up bigtime for her and she was always run ragged before the day even came around.

  Her annoyance with Christmas and the chaos it caused aside, she did like seeing her family, eating her mom’s amazing food, and giving out the gifts she’d carefully chosen even though she always said gift giving was nonsense because they were all adults.

  Usually, her mom was too busy with the cooking and the gifts and the hosting to get into it with her about grandkids. This year, Laney wasn’t so sure, considering Morgun had mysteriously disappeared from Jason’s wedding a couple days ago before her mom could put her through any sort of inquisition.

  “So? Get any good gifts?” Laney sat down on the other side of the couch, opposite her dad.

  Natasha beamed. “We did! Mostly household stuff, which we kind of already had, but that’s alright. You can always use a spare, right?”

  “Sure.” Laney used to get annoyed with Natasha when she first met her years ago. She was always so cheerful, always willing to look on the bright side. It had taken a while, but she’d grown on Laney, and now, Laney couldn’t imagine not having her in her life. She’d thought of her as a sister for a long time before it became official.

  “We also got some handmade gifts. My mom and grandma worked on a quilt with the wedding ring pattern for us. It’s so nice! You’ll have to see it when you come over!”

  “That’s amazing.” Laney wasn’t crafty. It would take her a lifetime to put something like that together. She was also oddly touched at the thoughtful gift and the slight sheen in Natasha’s eyes. She was an only child and was very close with her family.

  “It’s on our bed right now, but I’m a little scared to use it. It seems even worse to keep it packed away just to save it though.”

  “I’m like that with clothes. I always spend money on something nice and then I’m scared to wear it. Or I’ll get a new bag and I’m so scared of using it. The other one I have is in tatters before I finally have to break the new one out of the closet.”

  “It’s so true!”

  “It was a nice wedding,” Laney said politely. “I really enjoyed it. You looked amazing.”

  “Thank you.” Natasha was very fair, and when she blushed, her cheeks were scarlet. “I saw that you brought a date. I’m sorry I didn’t get to really talk to her. I was so busy with everyone and everything, I was just exhausted halfway through the night and then I couldn’t find her.”

  “She had to leave early,” Laney lied. “She’s a photographer too. She owns her own business and had some work to get to.”

  “Oh really? Is that how you met?”

  “Yes,” Laney lied. “She has a job interview with the agency I work for. Tomorrow or the day after, I guess.”

  “Wow! So, you’d be working together?”

  “Well, not really. Even if she did get hired, we usually work independently on different jobs, and from her work, I’d say they’d put her on family portraits or weddings, or maybe business or residential or commercial.”

  “Crazy,” Natasha breathed. “That’s cool. Really. I’m so happy for you!”

  Laney wanted to burrow between the couch cushions. She might have stood a chance of doing it if her dad wasn’t parked on the other end. She didn’t want to talk about Morgun, and not just for the usual reasons.

  She knew she’d screwed things up at the end of the night. She just wasn’t sure why it mattered so much to her. She wasn’t used to feeling like that. Regretful. Wishing she could go back and change how their night ended. She wasn’t us
ed to not being able to sleep at night because she was thinking about someone, not the usual work and family drama.

  For once, her mom saved her bacon. Helena burst out of her rocker and sniffed the air before announcing that the bird was done, and everyone should get to the table. No one questioned Helena’s nose. She could smell a perfectly seasoned, cooked bird from ten miles away.

  Laney and Natasha complied first. There were six chairs around the ancient oval table with the two leaves in to bear the weight of the Christmas feast. Laney’s dad and Jason eventually dragged themselves away from the game and took their seats. Jason sat beside Natasha, across the table from Laney, and Tom took the head.

  Helena ignored everyone’s offers of help. She always refused to let anyone in her kitchen. Laney tried to help her mom with dinner a few years ago, and Helena got so stressed having her “in her way” that she kicked her out after half an hour, uttering a few extremely rare curses. Her mom never cursed.

  Finally, the table was loaded with the perfectly golden turkey, thick gravy, stuffing, mashed potatoes, peas, carrots, corn, and cranberry sauce. The pumpkin pie and cherry pie would come later. Laney’s dad hated pumpkin pie—a sacrilege, in her opinion because pumpkin was her absolute favorite, especially her mom’s homemade pie—but he loved cherry.

  Natasha took Jason’s hand on top of the table and looked radiantly around. “Before we eat, can Jason and I say something?”

  “Yes! Of course!” Hela stuck a few serving spoons into the dishes and sat down in her spot.

  Laney knew that her parents had given Natasha and Jason five grand as a wedding gift and had also helped out a ton with the planning and everything, so she was sure they were going to thank them.

  Instead, Natasha looked first at Helena, then at Tom, then gushed, “You’re going to be grandparents!”

  Tom’s jaw basically smacked straight into the tabletop. Jason flushed a little, and he never seemed to get overly flustered about anything. Natasha was also bright red, but most of that flush was likely excitement.

  And Helena? She just sat there. Silent. Laney thought her mom was going to faint. She was ready to push back her chair and walk over to her side, just in case. The floor was tile, and she couldn’t have her mom smacking into it on freaking Christmas. Or any day.

  Slowly, the hugest smile in the entire world split Helena’s face. Then the tears came. They came in great torrents, flooding down her cheeks. She sobbed and blubbered, and kept repeating, “Oh my lord, oh my lord, oh my lord,” like a Christmas blessing over the food.

  “Congratulations,” Laney choked out, the first to say it.

  Tom and Helena both echoed it, bursting from their chairs and hugging Natasha and Jason. Laney should have been excited. She should have been relieved. She was. She was certain. She had to be. Because to be anything else would be ridiculous.

  Her brother and Natasha had done her a huge favor by basically shifting the attention from her to them. She wasn’t going to be badgered about producing a grandchild now that there was one on the way. It just hadn’t hit her yet. The shock was so great that the relief hadn’t taken over. That was all it was, Laney reasoned. It would come.

  She just couldn’t reason with the tiny pin prick stabbing at her chest or the slightly nauseating feeling in her stomach. She knew what jealousy felt like.

  She just needed to get some turkey into her. That would fix everything. That would banish all the wayward, crazy thoughts from her starved brain.

  Everyone finally quit their crying and their flapping and hugs. Laney did join in eventually after her parents were done with crushing poor Natasha and back slapping and blubbering all over her brother and filled their plates.

  Then the questions started. Helena had a full plate, but she didn’t even touch it in her eagerness to know all the details. When was Natasha due? When did they find out? What were their plans? Were they getting a doula? Were they going to be taking classes? Did they need any help? Could she help with a nursery? Could she get them anything? Could she shop for them? After the questions dried up, the unsolicited advice about raising children anywhere from the ages of zero to thirty-two was given freely.

  Natasha and Jason both took it in stride. Natasha was too good natured not to, and Jason was clearly just as excited as she was. That blew Laney’s mind. Her brother always basically said that he never really cared if he had children or not, and now he was practically glowing with pregnancy hormones himself.

  They got through dinner and the gift opening, but Laney felt almost numb. When it was finally time to leave, with one arm full of gifts and another bursting with leftovers that her mom packed up for her, she felt strangely reluctant, but also relieved.

  Jason and Natasha were heading out too and Laney hugged them both and assured them she was very excited to have a new niece or nephew. She gave her parents hugs too, piled everything in her backseat, and started the drive back home.

  Except that she turned left, heading away from her parent’s subdivision. She kept going, her mind a hazy fog, her chest thick and heavy.

  Christmas was just a rough time, she told herself. She had no reason to be unhappy. She had a family who loved her, her brother and Natasha were now married with a family of their own on the way. Everyone was healthy. Everyone still had their jobs, their house. She’d just enjoyed an amazing meal and her mom hadn’t even once tried to badger her. There was literally nothing to be grouchy or stressed about.

  So why was her chest so tight? What was the ache in her stomach? Laney learned the hard way that eating raw cauliflower caused massive intestinal distress. Cooked was fine, but raw was unfortunately not on the table for her, which was too bad because she really liked it. She currently felt like she’d eaten an entire head. But she hadn’t. There was no way to explain the pain in her chest and lower, the ache in her belly.

  There was also no way to explain why she was driving towards Morgun’s apartment. Laney didn’t have Morgun’s number. She couldn’t message her. She probably wouldn’t have, even if she had it. She could have brought up the dating app and sent a message, but she hadn’t planned this. It kind of just happened. Her body steered the car while her brain was furiously working on something else.

  Traffic was fairly light since people were still probably celebrating Christmas with family and friends. Laney knew she was getting close. She remembered the outdated children’s park in a small grassy space at the intersection of two busy streets. She recalled thinking that it was hardly a safe place to put a park and she thought so again as she passed it.

  She knew that Morgun’s apartment was only five minutes away. She could still stop. She could turn around and forget about what she was about to do. Morgun probably wasn’t even home. She was likely having Christmas with her own parents. Laney assumed they lived close by, but she could be wrong. She hadn’t even asked.

  She regretted the way she’d bulldozed into the coffee shop that night. How she’d picked Morgun up for the wedding in a foul mood and hadn’t taken more than a second to appreciate her appearance, let alone her company. She had noticed that Morgun looked beautiful, but it chaffed her like a thorn stuck somewhere deep in her foot where she couldn’t see or reach it. Laney hadn’t allowed herself to enjoy it. At least not until late in the evening, when she’d had a few drinks and allowed herself, for a brief span of time, to do something that she truly wanted.

  What’s wrong with being yourself? Morgun had asked her that at the wedding.

  She never got a chance to respond, but the question bounced around in her head for the rest of the night and well into the next few days.

  Laney had this ridiculously thick skin. She’d spent years and years cultivating it. It started when she first came out to her parents. She’d expected high school to be extra rough because she didn’t keep it a secret that she was a lesbian and that was tough to deal with, in addition to all the other shit that makes high school impossible for people to get through. She’d started that night, building
up the extra thick, protective layers that it took to keep the barbs out.

  It was better in college. Lots of people were into doing all sorts of things and cared far less about what anyone else was doing with their own life or what anyone thought about them. She’d had a few shitty jobs before she landed the one she was at now.

  She used that layer of protective padding she’d built up just about every single day. Not because people had an issue with who she did and didn’t find attractive, but because being an artist in a fast-paced, competitive, slightly cutthroat arena was tough.

  She’d wanted to be a photographer since she was little. She always said that’s what she was going to do, ever since she’d picked up a disposable camera of her mom’s. She’d hated the many times her mom nagged her about settling down and having a family. She loved her career. She was satisfied with it.

  So, what was the sudden empty hole inside herself that she could no longer deny? If Laney had hung her head out of the moving car’s window and opened her mouth and gulped in a bunch of the bracing night air, she couldn’t have felt more hollow.

  Was that why she was pulling up in front of the older apartment building? Morgun’s building? Or was it just because she felt bad about how their night ended and it was Christmas, and Christmas was made for peace and warmth, not anger and regret?

  She told herself she just wanted to talk to Morgun. To apologize for hurting her with those layers and that gruffness she felt she had to maintain. She didn’t want to just send a message. That was too informal and cold and exactly what Morgun probably thought she’d try to do, if she gave Laney that much credit at all.

  She shouldn’t have been surprised at herself. Laney knew she didn’t make impetuous decisions. She’d thought about apologizing for the past few days. It was distracting. It made her feel hollow inside, like she had air bubbles in her blood, and she needed to make it right.

 

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