Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29591 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29591 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
“I say go for it,” I said. I took another bite of my burger. “Y’all have members who invest time and energy in the community. That makes all the difference.”
“Which includes you and your man soon, right?” He gave me a pointed look.
I chuckled. “Trust me, buddy, we’ll be there soon enough.”
“Fantastic.”
The following month
“Does this mean we’re done Christmas shopping?” I asked. “Because that would work for me.” With the PlayStation gift card for games, a new phone, stocking stuffers, and now this M&Ms bucket, I sure felt done. And that was just Alex’s list.
We walked out of the M&Ms store while Max did his Christmas gift math, and I did my own to be on the safe side. Dylan was done too. I was gonna help him pay for next semester’s textbooks, we’d bought plenty of stocking stuffers, and I’d ordered him a new fridge after taking a look at the one he had now. It’d be a miracle if it didn’t fritz out before the week was over, and he didn’t need more excuses to live on ramen and protein bars.
I’d been happy for him when he’d found a nice apartment instead of having to stay in a dorm, and I hadn’t hesitated to slip him the extra two hundred bucks he needed for rent. McKinleys weren’t great at sharing, and I remembered hating the dorm life too. Not that Dylan had a place to himself; it was New York, not some Podunk town in Arkansas. But at least the apartment he was sharing with four others meant he had his own room, and that was what mattered. I wanted him to be able to close the door behind himself, whether he needed privacy to study in peace or he simply wanted his shit to himself.
“We might almost be done,” Max settled for saying. “I still have to find something for Monica, and I’m not done shopping for you.”
Well, that was his problem. I had set my credit card on fire on Amazon before we’d taken the train up to New York. Monica and Arianna were getting a new subscription to a wine club, and I’d had Alex’s help with picking out a gift for Max’s parents.
“The important part is that I’m done,” I replied. Because fuck the holiday retail chaos. My Christmas was supposed to be filled with relaxation, barely leaving the house, winter barbecues on the roof, Arianna coming over to decorate because she claimed I sucked at it, and spending a shitload of time in bed with Max.
“Aren’t you sweet.” He smiled wryly and slipped his hand into mine.
I grinned and threaded our fingers together.
Next stop, Olive Garden. Dylan’s request. He was meeting up with us there.
It was a short walk back to the thick of Times Square, probably the last place on earth I wanted to spend my December, and within minutes, we were seated at the Olive Garden there. Nice table, a tad secluded, with no view of the hustle and bustle happening one story below. We opted to sit next to each other so Dylan could sit across.
“What’re you in the mood for, darlin’?” I eyed my menu.
“You.”
Well, hey. I glanced over at him and smiled. “You’ve gotten so good at saying the right things.”
He chuckled and leaned in, and I kissed him.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” I kissed him once more.
We ended up holding our order but got the drinks and salad out of the way, so I had my mouth full of bread when Dylan showed up ten minutes later. Cheeks flushed, parka wet from the rain.
“Nothing makes me appreciate the Metro back home like the subway in New York,” he huffed and sat down. “Damn circus.”
I soaked that up. I could admit I’d initially been a little nervous about him possibly falling for New York and staying once he had his degree. But yesterday, he’d mentioned wanting to look into getting his master’s closer to home.
“Did you hand in your project?” Max wondered.
“Yeah, at long fucking last,” Dylan replied. “I have one more exam next week, and then I’m coming home for the holidays.”
Music to my ears.
When the server came back, we placed our orders for a week’s supply of pasta, and Max asked for more bread sticks too.
Maybe I’d eaten his.
“By the way, can we talk about somethin’ that’s weighing on me?” Dylan asked, filling his plate with salad. “It’s about you two being together now.”
I lifted my brows. Should I be worried?
“Of course. Is something wrong?” Max asked.
“That depends,” Dylan said. “Are you gonna buy Christmas presents and birthday gifts separately or together? Because as a poor college student, I’m kinda banking on the sweet deal we already have, where Dad tries to fix everything that’s broken in my apartment, and Uncle Max spoils me rotten with gift cards.”