by Alexis Daria
“How do I know you’re not going to run off again? Your wanderlust is alive and well, and people don’t change overnight.”
“You’re right.” He inclined his head to concede the point. “It hasn’t been overnight. It’s been over the last few months.”
Since he’d started his campaign to court her on social media, she guessed. The sudden attention had both confused and charmed her. She hadn’t known what to make of it, but she’d also looked forward to seeing his name pop up in her notifications.
Still, he’d been off on tour, so she’d simply clicked “like” on the comments and moved on.
Rather than tell him all that, she shook her head. “Listen. You’re sweet, and you’re cute as hell, but I don’t believe you.”
“What can I do to convince you I’m serious?”
She huffed out a laugh. “Dude, that would take a motherfuckin’ Christmas miracle.”
Right before her eyes, his energy shifted and his whole body perked up. Damn, he must be amazing to watch on stage. He could so clearly convey emotion with his entire being.
“A Christmas miracle?” He said it like it was a real thing within his reach.
“Yeah. And I don’t believe in those, either.”
Now, his brow furrowed. “Why not?”
Jess rolled her eyes. “Are you telling me you do?”
He shrugged. “The holidays are a special time. Everyone tries just a little bit harder to be good, to be helpful, to be compassionate. Isn’t that a miracle?”
Lord, spare her from idealists. But his optimism tugged at her, urging her to agree. She slammed a mental lid on the impulse and made her voice extra flippant.
“I don’t know. I hate the holidays.”
If she’d punched him in those rock-hard abs, he might have looked less surprised. “You what?”
She huffed. People always gave her nonsense about her stance on winter holidays. “Look, I’ve got nothing against Arbor Day. But Christmas? Not for me. I mean, I’ll go to parties, like this one, because I like my friends. But I don’t buy into the rest of it. It’s just a marketing tactic so retailers can make their bottom line before the end of the fiscal year.”
He raised a dark brow. “That’s a very cynical view of the most magical time of year.”
A smile tugged at her lips. “I can’t help it if I lost my rose-colored glasses. Or green and red, as the case may be.”
“Aha. So, you’re a Scrooge.”
“Why does everyone keep calling me that today?” She shuffled her feet against the hall carpet.
“All right, how about this?” Nik’s voice took on a cajoling tone and he clasped his hands together in front of him.
She eyed him warily, sure she wasn’t going to like whatever he said next. “How about what?”
“Since it’ll take a Christmas miracle to get you to believe that I’m for real about exploring something serious with you—and you don’t believe in Christmas miracles—if I can get you to believe in the magic of the holiday season, then, by extension, you will also believe that I’m not playing games with you.”
She blinked at him a few times, charmed in spite of herself. But she was too contrary by nature to give in that easily. “That didn’t make any freaking sense.”
“Sure it did.” He put out his hand to shake. “Just give me three dates—three holiday-themed dates—to change your mind. About me and Christmas.”
Staring at his hand, Jess was filled with the urge to say yes. To believe him. Not about the Christmas stuff, but to believe that someone liked her as much as he claimed to. Liked her enough to go to all this trouble.
Liked her enough to stick around.
But she didn’t. This would still be a game for him, an entertaining way to pass time over the holidays before his next adventure.
If it was a game, though…maybe she could have fun for a bit, too, like Naomi had been pushing her to do. Maybe it was time to play a little. Just for the last days of the year. And then he’d be off wherever his next gig took him, and she’d go back to her regular, boring life.
Alone.
She pushed the thought away.
“Fine,” she said, clasping his hand. “Three dates.”
His grin lit up his whole face, and she felt it inside her, too.
What the hell was she getting herself into?
Chapter Three
December 18th
For their first date, Nik asked Jess to meet him at the Americana at Brand, an outdoor mall in Glendale designed to look like someone’s fantasy version of a European village. For some reason he couldn’t understand, the mall also had apartments on the upper levels, and he had to pass through an open-air concierge area on his way in from the parking garage.
A trolley, festooned with wreaths, holly, and an enormous glittering red bow, wound its way around the track circling the “town square,” where an enormously tall, conical Christmas tree drew the eye upward. Red and white lights hung in abundance from the boughs of the trees ringing the square and over the walkways. The air smelled like cinnamon, and tinkling, jazzy music scores from classic Christmas movies played unobtrusively in the background.
Having grown up in Brooklyn, Nik found the Americana both bizarre and quaint. He hoped Jess would feel the same. He couldn’t imagine a more magical setting for a date. Even better, it was warm. Doing holiday stuff in New York City was fun, but made harder by actual winter weather. He wore a light jacket, because the temperature in LA dropped at night, but he didn’t need a scarf, hat, or gloves.
Part of him missed the whole ritual of getting ready to go out in the cold. But only a very small part.
The sun was going down as he waited for Jess by one of the fountains, where a giant, nearly naked gold man froze mid-prance in the center, surrounded by cheerful jets of water colored by tiny lights in the fountain’s base. Red and green, of course.
As the minutes ticked by, Nik worried that Jess wasn’t going to show up. He’d arrived early, just in case he hit traffic, and because it would’ve been rude to be late. But what if she’d just been humoring him to get him to leave her alone? Maybe he’d read the whole situation all wrong.
Then he spotted her coming toward him, and his face broke into a grin. She wore a gray bomber jacket and jeans. A turquoise patterned headscarf pushed her curls into an updo. Nik waved, and she joined him by the fountain.
“Traffic on the 2.” She rolled her eyes, but leaned in to give him a half hug.
He’d take it. She smelled like cherries, reminding him of their first kiss, and when he put his arm around her, her petite frame fit perfectly against him.
She peered around them, taking in all the over-the-top holiday décor, and pouted those pretty lips in a way that said, “I’m here, but I’m not happy about it.” Nik couldn’t help but laugh.
“Bah humbug?” he asked, and her mouth compressed to hold back a grin.
“You said it, not me.” She moved closer and slipped her arm through his. The alternating colors of the fountain’s lights reflected on her hair—green, then red, then green again. “So, what are we doing on this date?”
“Well, one of the main tenets of the holidays is giving gifts to loved ones.”
She huffed out a laugh. “I know what Christmas is. I’m just not a fan of celebrating it.”
Her words made him wonder why, but it was too soon to ask.
“Let’s start with some shopping,” he suggested, trying to keep things light.
“Who says I plan to shop for anyone?” She side-eyed the passing trolley and its waving conductor.
“Maybe this was all just a ruse to get you to help me buy gifts for Natasha and my cousin’s wife.”
That got a chuckle out of her and she elbowed his side. “Pretty elaborate ruse, my dude. But I should probably get a gift for my agent while I’m here. Let’s start over there.”
Jess directed them to a makeup store, and Nik followed her lead. As they browsed the spa and skincare aisles, he told
her about his family—his mother and father back in Brooklyn, who’d moved their whole family from Ukraine to America in the 1990s; his brother, who was learning the meaning of the word “compromise” with Natasha; his cousin Alex and his wife, Marina, who were expecting a baby in the spring; and his cousin Fedya, Nik’s partner in crime when they were little, who was now a father of three.
Nik was careful to open up first. He hadn’t forgotten how, after their first kiss, she’d ducked his question about why she’d left Chicago. He seriously doubted “too cold” was the only reason. So as he spoke, he kept his comments thoughtful, leaving spaces and gaps for her to step in, if she wanted to. And he didn’t ask her anything outright.
Eventually, she opened up just a little.
“My sister Jaina’s an accountant in Texas,” she said, testing a red lipstick on the back of her hand.
He waited to see if she’d supply more info. After turning her hand this way and that, as if checking how the lipstick looked in the light, she continued.
“She’s a drama queen. Every time we talk, Jaina has some other shit going on with her job, her friends, or a man. I can’t keep up.”
“Is that for her?” he asked, pointing at the lipstick.
“Hell no. This is for me.” She added two more stripes of red in different shades and compared them. “Which one do you think is better?”
Nik flagged down a salesperson to help Jess try on the color she liked best, and he smiled as she preened in the tiny mirror attached to the end of the aisle.
“I like it,” he said. “Very Christmassy.”
“Shut up. No, it’s not.” But she sent him a coy little smile that set him ablaze.
“What’s the color called?” he asked, because he wanted to remember it.
She rolled her eyes to the ceiling and sighed. “Holly Jolly Berry.”
Nik laughed, and as they wound their way toward the cashiers, Jess surprised him by returning to the topic of family. Her words came out in bursts, laced with unspoken—and perhaps unacknowledged—emotions.
“I mean, it’s great and all that you have a good connection with your family,” she said. “But not everyone has that. And the holidays force the issue, like there’s something wrong with you if you’re not in the spirit of celebrating and putting aside your differences to deal with your toxic or dysfunctional family members.”
He couldn’t argue with that. “So, how do you usually celebrate, if not with your family?”
“I stay home and catch up on TV, indulging in some good old R&R while everyone else is busy.”
“Alone?” He tried to keep the surprise out of his voice, but probably failed.
“Yes, alone. I like my ‘me time.’”
Nik wanted to ask more, to dig deeper into what she was saying, but she’d tell him when—and if—she was ready.
“Oh, Naomi would love this.” Jess picked up a skin-care boxed set. “She has sensitive skin, so she’s always on the lookout for all-natural products. I’m going to get this for her.”
“Is she the one who was at Rhianne’s party with you?” Her energy changed when she talked about her friend, as opposed to her family. She lit up when she mentioned Naomi’s name.
“Yeah, and now I’m never going to hear the end of it, thanks to you.”
“The end of what?”
“She’s one hundred percent in favor of us kissing again.”
“Can’t say I disagree.” He smiled when her lips quirked. “What’s your opinion on the matter?”
“I’m still deciding,” she answered haughtily. She tossed the package into the basket he carried, and they moved on.
Outside, he begged her to pose for cheesy pictures with him in front of every Christmassy backdrop they passed, including the trolley.
“Where are you posting these?” she demanded.
“Nowhere. They’re just for me.”
“Oh.” She was quiet a moment. “Well, text me the best ones.”
He did it on the spot. Then, he directed her to one of the snack stands set up around the fountains. “No holiday outing is complete without hot chocolate.”
She held up her hands and spread her fingers, as if to indicate the lack of gloves. “You drink hot chocolate when it’s cold. It’s not cold. It’s sixty-two degrees.”
He pretended to be affronted. “Miss Jessica Davenport, we are adults and we can drink hot chocolate anytime we damn well please.”
His remark got her laughing, and she gave his gut a light whack…that ended in a furtive caress. Was she feeling him up? He didn’t mind that at all.
As they waited in line, he peppered her with trivial questions.
“Marshmallows or whipped cream?”
“I can’t have both?”
“Peppermint or caramel?”
“On what? Never mind. Caramel. Always caramel. Anything mint-flavored makes me think of toothpaste.”
“Tea or coffee?”
“I am not a morning person, so give me all the coffee.”
“Gingerbread or chocolate chip?”
“What kind of monster do you think I am? Chocolate chip.”
He adored the way she never answered a question with a simple yes or no, A or B. Every time she opened her mouth, her personality spilled out along with her words. She might not know it, but she was sharing more of herself than she realized.
Once they had their drinks, they sat at a small café table and sipped.
“Good?” he asked.
“Mmm.” She closed her eyes and savored. “So good.”
She had a tiny bit of whipped cream on her lip. He ached to lick it off. Instead, he pointed, and her own tongue darted out to catch it.
Almost as good.
She drank more of her cocoa, watching the people around them as he watched her. Her prickliness guarded a heart that had been hurt. He didn’t know how or when, but he’d have to work extra hard to change her mind and show her that he’d changed his.
He hated that their conversation eleven months ago had been about his refusal to be tied down, and now, that was all he wanted. Cheesy as it sounded, he wanted to tie them together with a big Christmas bow.
How could he make her believe that if she didn’t want to?
The music filling the outdoor area changed from a slower Christmas ballad to a rollicking jazz-style carol. The beat zinged through Nik, demanding he get on his feet.
“Now what?” Jess asked, her tone suspicious. “Your whole body just lit up like…well, like a damn Christmas tree.”
“Let’s dance.” He took her hand.
“What about our drinks?” She gestured at their mostly full cups. “They’ll get cold.”
“I’ll buy you another one.”
He handed their shopping bags and a twenty dollar bill to one of the concierge guys on the lawn—yes, this mall had those. “Hold these for me?” When the guy nodded, Nik took Jess’s hand and drew her out onto the main road that wound around the center lawns.
“Nik!” She laughed out his name, but didn’t look embarrassed or resistant. He’d never heard a better sound. “No one else is dancing.”
“I know.” He grinned and pulled her into a close hold, with his right hand resting on her left shoulder blade, and his left hand gently clasping the fingers of her right. “We’re about to make a spectacle of ourselves.”
“What kind of spectacle?” Jess couldn’t have wiped the grin off her face if her life depended on it. His enthusiasm was infectious, like a disease borne on the smell of pine and Christmas cheer.
“You like Lindy hop, right?”
She loved it. “How’d you know?”
He gave her a patient smile. “Jeshka, I’ve seen every single one of your Instagram posts. I’m a fan.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks warmed at the thought of him following her photos all year, paying enough attention to note and remember something like this, instead of passively double-clicking to heart a picture and moving on. Then the way he’d said her name caught u
p to her. “Jeshka?”
“My people live for nicknames.” He raised his eyebrows and looked over her shoulder. “I hope you’re okay with going viral.”
“What?” She peeked behind him. Sure enough, several shoppers already had their phones out and pointed at where she stood with Nik. This would probably end up all over social media, was likely being live-streamed this very moment, with their names tagged soon if not already. Speculation was bound to arise about whether or not they were dating.
Whatever. Let them watch. She had nothing to hide. Someone might even think it was a publicity stunt, like a flash mob. It could only help both of their careers.
Not only that, Nik was an amazing dancer. Right now, she just wanted the experience of dancing with him.
What would Naomi say?
Go play.
“Let’s do this,” Jess said, and Nik took that as his cue, stepping them into the dance with his left foot.
The song was a modern big band hit, with jazzy vocals and a lively percussive beat punctuated by blaring trumpets. Nik deftly led her through the eight-count pattern of the Lindy swing out—rock step, triple step, walk, walk, triple step—matching the song’s fast-paced rhythm with speed and control.
Dancing with Nik was like being caught in a bubble—just the two of them, with a perfect, almost telepathic connection between their bodies and the music. He communicated moves to her through the tension in his fingers holding hers, the touch of his hand on her upper back, and shifts in balance. Dance created a language only spoken between the partners, as intimate as it was invigorating.
Despite all her Scrooging, tonight was the most fun she’d had in a very long time. Giving herself over to the dance and the boppy beat, Jess sank low in her knees, twisting on the balls of her feet as she swiveled left and right. The road was so well paved, her flat tennis shoes slid easily on the surface. She even closed her eyes at one point, letting the music and the steps—and Nik—take over. The soft scent of his cologne plied her memory, bringing to mind the feel of his mouth on hers. Her body warmed, and it wasn’t just from exertion.