Page 37

December

Jordan

“So let me get this straight,” Robbie says, frowning down at the applesauce that Valerie just flung on his shirt and all over the floor. “You want to date my sister?”

I pick up the crying baby out of her high chair and bounce her in my arms a few times until she calms down.

Robbie turns the faucet on and runs hot water over a rag, cleaning up the mess on the floor and his shirt.

I clear my throat, trying to remain calm, even though I’m freaking out about what Robbie thinks of me dating Alice.

Eventually, I say, “Yeah. I want to date Alice. I figured you should know.”

“I’m confused,” he says, throwing the rag in a small basket by the hallway.

“I thought you two were already dating.” Robbie faces me fully now, hands resting on his hips.

His look is incredulous, and I’m stunned by his words.

I stop bouncing Val and she stops giggling.

I stare at my best friend and notice there’s still some applesauce on his face.

Shaking my head I say, “No. I mean, there was something between us at some point, but let’s just say it was never the right time.”

I hand over puffy-cheeked Valerie and she immediately rests her head on her dad’s chest. Robbie sighs and kisses her forehead.

I can tell he’s tired and maybe a little overwhelmed at times, but ever since he started asking for help babysitting, he’s been looking a little better.

“So why are you telling me now? Are you asking for my blessing?” he asks, lips twitching in a genuine smile.

Shaking my head, I reach out and swipe the applesauce off his forehead. He laughs and mumbles a thank you. “I just wanted you to know. I’m here to stay and I’ll make up for all the lost time and heartbreak I caused her.”

Robbie’s gaze narrows on me in assessment.

I hold it, letting him see the sincerity in my statement.

“You better. She was really devastated when you left. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like that before.

Not that she told me any of this,” he says, walking Val over to her playmat in the living room and taking a seat on the couch.

“How did you know, then? That there was something going on?”

“I’m not blind, man. I saw the way you two acted around each other. We all did. It was just a matter of time until you two finally figured it out. I just want to make sure that you won’t break her heart again,” he says.

“I promise I won’t. She’s always been the one for me and even when I was gone, I was never out of love with her. I was just too afraid to take a chance, and I worried too much about what our families would think.”

Robbie gives me a confused look and I laugh. “Yeah, I see how stupid that was now. This time, I’m here to stay and I won’t let anything come between myself and Alice again.” The vow I make is not only for Robbie, but for myself too. I’ll do anything to be in her life.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he says, and pats my shoulder.

“Where are we going?” Alice asks as soon as she opens her apartment door, giving me a wide smile. She’s wearing her signature pink lipstick and my favorite dress—the green sweater one that shows off her ass.

I smirk and swing my hand around from where it’s hiding behind my back. She gasps at the bouquet of white roses I hold and gingerly takes it from me. With her nose buried in them, she says, “Thank you, but you didn’t have to go through the trouble.”

My hands grip the door frame as I lean in and steal a kiss, whispering against her lips, “I’m just making up for all the dates I never took you on.”

“Aw, J,” she says, motioning for me to go inside while she adds the flowers to a jar of water. As soon as her hands are free again, I spin her around and place them around my neck, pulling her in and swaying in the kitchen. “What are you doing?” she giggles.

“Dancing with you,” I say, not able to contain my grin. “I want to fit a thousand little moments in this one date,” I say against her lips. “You deserve the best.”

“Have you been reading more romance novels?” she asks, eyes narrowing on me. “You’re giving off cinnamon roll vibes.”

I laugh and kiss her forehead, spinning her around and catching her right back in my arms. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” she says, blushing.

“Hmm, well I haven’t been reading anything lately. Except for your book.”

“What?” she pulls back, her blue eyes widening.

“That night we were babysitting and you fell asleep while writing, I put your laptop away and started reading the copy you had of your book. I got halfway through it before you took it home the next day,” I say, biting back my smile at her shocked expression.

“Oh,” she says, chewing on her lip. “What did you think?”

I tilt my head in thought and look towards the living room, spotting the book on the coffee table. “I think I need to know if Elissa and Jackson get their happy ending.”

Alice’s expression softens, her lips pulling into a small smile. “They do,” she whispers.

“Shh, spoiler alert,” I laugh, placing my hand on her mouth. She giggles and fists the side of my coat, pulling me in for a kiss. When she pulls back I say, “I want to finish it. It’s really good.”

“Yeah?” she blushes, looking up at me through her lashes.

“Yeah.”

“I guess you can borrow it,” she says, rolling her eyes and pulling away to get her coat on. “If you tell me where we’re going.”

I grin and shake my head, giving in. “I booked us a cooking class.”

Alice gasps and clasps her hands in excitement. “Oh my god, yes! I’ve been wanting to go to one forever.”

“I know,” I say, squeezing her hand and leading her out the door.

Alice

The cooking class is at one of the local Italian restaurants. The addition in the back is used primarily for catering purposes and teaching beginner classes. Our instructor, Chef Roman, walks us through the space and gives us a little bit of history about the place and what we’ll be making.

“Each couple can get situated at one of these tables.” He gestures to the stainless steel tables, which have an assortment of ingredients and tools on them.

I pick up the little pizza cutter and smile excitedly at Jordan.

I feel like he hasn’t taken his eyes off me this whole time.

Ever since he showed up at my doorstep with flowers, he’s been absolutely perfect.

I blush thinking about how he admitted to reading my book.

When I peer over at him, he’s grinning, looking delectable in a dark red sweater that complements the green of my dress.

I know he wants this day to be perfect, but I also need him to know that I’ll take all the versions of him. I want him completely. Desperately.

“And today we will be making ravioli from scratch. After the class, you can move to the main restaurant, where a table has been reserved for each couple to enjoy a three-course meal. Are you ready to begin?” the chef asks with a smile, and we all nod.

It’s hard to concentrate on anything Chef Roman is saying as my eyes keep straying to Jordan and the way he rolls up his sleeves. Or how his deft fingers tie his apron. Or how his chocolate eyes find mine, making sure I’m having a good time.

“Miss Alice?” someone says, breaking me out of my reverie as I imagine Jordan’s fingers wrapped around my throat.

“Hm? Yes,” I say, quickly straightening up.

“I was told you have an intolerance, so I took the liberty to create a special blend of flour, all of it gluten-free.”

I blink, looking over at Jordan, who is swirling a glass of wine and sniffing it, completely ignorant of my inner thoughts and how much I want to jump his bones right now for something as trivial as remembering my food preferences.

“Thank you so much,” I say, facing the chef again. “I appreciate it.”

“No problem.”

Jordan takes a sip of his wine and cringes. My laugh startles him and he schools his expression, handing the wine to me. “Do you want to try it?”

“I want to know why you made that face,” I say, taking it from him and taking a sip. Jordan watches me intently the whole time and frowns when I place the glass on the table.

“It tastes like chalk,” he whispers, looking around to make sure Chef Roman doesn’t hear him. I laugh and grab his hand in mine, running my thumb over his knuckles.

“It’s a dry red wine, of course it tastes like chalk. Do you want to ask for something else?”

“No, I’m good,” he says, shrugging it off. “I’m not a big drinker anyway since it doesn’t mix well with my medication.”

I squeeze his fingers and he gives me a smile, one meant just for me. One that says, I have a thousand things I want to experience with you.

“Okay. Ready to make some delicious herb and cheese ravioli?”

“So ready,” he says, leaning in and kissing my forehead.

We start by mixing the flour with water, oil, and an egg, making sure it’s ready to knead.

I pull my two rings off, realizing at the last second that I don’t have pockets in this dress.

Jordan holds his hand out and I place them in his palm.

I expect him to put them in the pocket of his jeans, but instead, he pulls his silver necklace out and unclasps it, adding my rings to it before refastening it behind his neck.

I smile at him and kiss his bicep, since that’s all I can reach. I dig my hands in the dough just to have something to do. Just so I don’t grab him and make out with him in front of the people in this class.

I try to move a strand of my hair with my shoulder, and when that doesn’t work, I try to blow it away from my face. Jordan’s hand reaches out and tucks the hair behind my ear. Leaning in, he says, “Want me to take over now?”

“Sure, my arms could use a break,” I say, laughing. Jordan’s hands come down on top of mine and he has us both kneading the dough once, twice, until Chef Roman’s next instruction breaks us out of it. I pull my hands away and grab the glass of wine, taking a few sips.

Jordan’s shoulder touches mine as he puts all his power into it. When he picks up the rolling pin and lifts his sleeves even higher up his forearms, I have to cross my legs where I stand. How am I going to make it through dinner when I can barely make it through this class?

By the time the dessert comes out, all I can think about is Jordan’s hands on me. Not only did he look sexy as hell rolling out the ravioli, but he continued to be the perfect date, pulling out my chair in the restaurant, holding my hand as we talked about the most random, trivial things.

“What do you want for Christmas?” he asks out of the blue, as he takes a bite of the gluten-free tiramisu.

I take my time answering, sipping on the dessert wine I ordered.

I’m a little tipsy and I’m sure it shows as I’ve been giggling and smiling nonstop.

“I don’t need anything, J.” He raises a thick dark eyebrow at me, and I roll my eyes.

“I mean it. I have all the books I need, my release date is set, I’m happy with all I have,” I shrug.

“I’m sure you can think of something,” he says, licking cocoa powder from the corner of his lips.

“A bigger place to live? I truly don’t know,” I say.

“Why a bigger place?”

I grab his hand and steal his next bite of tiramisu, relishing in the way his eyes track my lips as they wrap around the spoon.

When I lean back in my chair, I say, “I like the apartment, but I’m running out of space for bookshelves.

And it would be nice to have an office and a desktop to use for writing. ”

“Okay,” he says, watching me intently as he polishes off the last bite.

“What about you? What do you want for Christmas?”

His response is immediate, and it makes me crack up. “A PS5,” he says.

“Okay, nerd.” I smile and run my foot up the inside of his leg under the table. Jordan chokes on his water, flustered. He grabs my ankle with a firm hand and rubs at the exposed skin.

The waitress comes over to clear the rest of the plates and I grin as Jordan looks everywhere but at me. “Can I get you two anything else?” she asks.

“Just the check, please,” I say, amused.

“It’s actually all taken care of. Part of the cooking class,” she explains, and I thank her again.

“Can we please get out of here?” I ask Jordan, tapping his knee with my foot where he still has my ankle prisoner.

“Fuck, yes,” he groans in a low voice, and lets go of me.

I put my coat on and I expect Jordan to be up and ushering me out the door, but he’s still in the chair, head in his hands. I lean in, concerned and ask, “Are you okay?”

His head comes up and his nostrils flare, his eyes boring into me. “I need a minute.”

I grin at him across the table as he stares at the ceiling, mumbling something.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m naming as many hockey players as I can think of.”

Once we leave the restaurant, Jordan keeps a hand on me the whole drive home and my smile hurts my cheeks, but I can’t stop. He’s burrowed himself into every little corner of my life and now that he’s here and he’s putting in the effort, I can’t help but think that my happy ending is coming.