Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 59022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
“Isn’t this the busiest night of the year?” I remind him of his obvious job duties.
He smiles tenderly. Understanding washes all over his face that and what seems like a bit of thankfulness that I get it.
“My dad dropped me off,” he says almost sheepishly. “It’s his night anyway. I already did everything I had to leading up to it, thus being so tired, though that’s not all of it.”
I nod slowly.
“So why are you here, Stetson?” I find the courage to ask though it’s like the words get stuck in my throat on the way out. “The clause, your silence—all of it was very telling, not at all what I assume is the old Christmas cheer sort of thing you like to leave a person with.”
He takes a step toward me on the couch, but I hold my hand up.
“No,” I say. “I need to hear you out, but I can’t, if you leave again, I can’t—” Tears well in my eyes. “I can survive a lot of things, I think I’ve proven that, but one night a man came to me with a clause and a magical background that shouldn’t exist but does and I can’t quite seem to get him out of my soul no matter how hard I try, so I don’t want comfort or fake words, I don’t want hugs followed by empty promises. I signed a clause not realizing I was signing away something else entirely—and just because you said void doesn’t make it true.”
He looks down, like he’s nervous, then his hot gaze clashes with mine. “And to think, I was stupid enough to convince myself I could have my cake and eat it too that just because I didn’t want to end up like my dad it wouldn’t happen. How’s that for stupidity?”
I shrug. “We all have a little stupid in us.”
He takes another step towards me, reaching out. “I’m here because I can’t get you out of my mind. You’re all I think about.” His confession sounds like it’s the worst thing in the world, missing me. “I obsess over you. Have you eaten? Have you been sleeping? Are you laughing enough?” He lowers his voice. “How many tears did you cry? Are you as sad as I am?”
He shakes his head. “I’ve been on your social media, checking it obsessively for any sign of your smile. I close my eyes and dream about you. I can’t think clearly. I’m not doing well at work. Everyone suddenly hates me, shit I hate myself, even Jayson’s ready to feed me to the polar bears and I’m supposed to be the likeable one. There’s nothing cheery about me and I just…miss you.”
His words heal the parts of me that needed to be made whole again. I don’t need anything more, just those honest words that mean everything. But…
“Why did you ignore me?”
He looks away from me for a minute, like this conversation is taking everything out of him to have.
“I was spooked—terrified actually,” he says quietly, then captures my gaze again. “You spooked me.”
“I spooked you?” I repeat the words because I can’t believe he’s just said them. “How am I the spooker in this situation, I mean really Stetson, I’d like to believe I held it together like a champ when I met Santa.”
“Yes. And to hell with standing here…” before I can even blink he has me wrapped in his arms and is holding me close.
He sits down on the couch and pulls me on his lap and kisses me on the mouth.
“What if I spook you again?” I pull away from him and hold his face in my hands as I stare in his eyes.
“You might,” he nods with a smile. “But I’m here for it. All the scares and all the joy that I know we’re going to have together, if you’ll let me.”
He kisses me again, taking my breath away.
“I love you, Charlie Horse.” He whispers against my mouth. “And I have a new proposition for you.”
He loves me.
He said he loves me.
I’m so dizzy I can barely see straight. He snaps his fingers as the sound of bells fill the air. “You see, every clause has an effect, the minute I hit void on it, the effect was pretty much hell on earth, certain torture, you even ruined cookies for me, the pantry has been complete shit since you left, and I’m still pissed about it—I even stopped labeling cookies.”
I gasp. “You didn’t.”
“I’m not proud of my disorganization Charlie, I’m a man broken.” He shows me a new piece of paper, this one is the same sort of parchment only on this one it says naughty or nice with two boxes next to it and on the bottom a place for my signature. “All you have to do is sign.”