Page 40 of Infatuated as They Come (Sinful Trilogy #2)

Holly

The last few weeks had been weird and I wasn’t even sure if I was entitled to what I was feeling.

November had been lovely, but just as quickly as Sawyer changed into the boyfriend I actually saw and got to spend time with, he turned back into the one I barely got to say a word to.

No more eating dinner together. No more hanging out with him at the studio—he had been working on some big, top secret project I wasn’t privy to.

No more cuddling on the couch. Instead, I had been left to sit on it all alone, back to doing what we had done before: me waiting for Sawyer, only for him to show up late.

His Saturdays and Sundays were the same as well, leaving early in the morning and coming back when my eyes were heavy and sleep was taking over.

I couldn’t work out if I was the problem.

If it was just me being selfish and expecting things to be how they were back in Dallas when we had less commitments.

He at the very least wasn’t spending all of his time at work and instead was actually at the studio doing what he should have been doing full time.

His art was all I had ever wanted him to focus on.

How could I be sad when he was doing exactly what I had asked of him? When he was doing what he loved?

I was the problem. It was me being stupid and selfish. That was all it was. But that loneliness and aching in my chest wouldn’t leave, like it had found a permanent place in my heart since we moved to this stupid, dumb, big city.

I was spending another night alone, sitting on the couch and scrolling through emails when I saw one pop up from Caroline confirming the go ahead for my newest article. Even that wouldn’t spark any excitement within me.

It was almost ten and Sawyer was still in Brooklyn, and it looked like I’d be eating dinner alone for what felt like the thousandth time since moving to New York.

I wasn’t even in the mood to eat and instead stared at the duffel bags I had just packed for our trip back to Dallas tomorrow.

Sawyer’s gifts were sitting inside most of them, with three bags absolutely stuffed to the brim with things I hoped he’d love.

He never let me spoil him any other time, but on Christmas?

I wouldn’t let him escape it. If I even got to see him and give him said gifts…

I heard the sound of the door clicking open and I looked up to see my tousled-haired boyfriend.

“Hey,” Sawyer said. “There you are.”

“Here I am,” I said softly.

“Watcha doing? You all packed for tomorrow?” he asked, nodding towards the bags.

“Mhm.” I nodded. “All done.”

His head tilted as he sat down next to me, cupping the side of my face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine.”

Forcing a smile, I pushed all those negative feelings deep down. “I’m just a little tired. December always feels like that, right?”

“Hey, come here.” He gathered me against his chest, his hand pressed to the back of my head, and it was so easy to get lost in the feeling of him. He was so warm and broad and solid. Had it really been that long since I had felt him so close? “I thought you’d be in bed by now.”

“I’m not really sleepy. What’d you do today?”

“You know I was at the studio.”

“I know, but you never tell me what you’re doing down there. What are you working on?”

He cleared his throat. “Just… this thing.”

“What thing?”

“Just a thing.”

“Can I see the thing?” I pulled away from him slightly so I could look up at him.

“Not yet, baby.”

“You must be working on a really big project. Do you have any photos?”

“No photos. You’ll see it soon, though, and I really hope you love it.”

“I’m sure it looks so beautiful.”

He looked at me for a long moment before speaking up. “I hope so. I know I’ve barely been around this past month. It probably feels like before…”

My eyes shut tightly for a moment. “It’s okay. I know you’ve been down at the studio. I hope you’re having lots of fun working on… whatever you’re working on.”

“You’re feeling lonely again,” he said with a frown.

“I haven’t felt lonely,” I said. “I’m so happy you’re focusing on your art, that you’re doing something you love. You deserve this.”

“After today, I won’t be there as much or as long,” he said, giving the top of my head another kiss.

My head shook. “No, you can’t stop going.”

“I won’t stop, I just won’t be there as often. I’ll be around more. I’ll get to see you more. I’m so lucky I get to see you at all. That I get to come home to you. I want to show you how lucky I feel, how lucky I know I am.”

“I’m lucky too,” I whispered. “So lucky I have you.”

He hummed, his lips pressed to my head. “My sweet girl. Why don’t we get some sleep? Long drive tomorrow, huh?”

Too many thoughts whirled around in my head as he pulled me closer, letting me rest there against his chest. I miss you, I love you, I hate never seeing your face, I miss your touch, I miss kissing you, I miss so much about you and us, and God, I even miss the way we used to argue because at least we talked then .

But there he was, getting lost in his art and following his dreams, doing exactly what he should have been doing since we moved here. How could I get in the way of that?

* * *

We were officially back in Dallas and I had missed it more than I realized.

I thought about what Sawyer had said at the end of summer, when he had taken me out for my birthday and said how when he drove past certain places, he thought of me.

My heart fluttered as that same feeling overtook me.

We drove by the empty field where our date to the summer fair had been and the cinema we went to a bunch of times and the restaurants where we had lovely dinners. It was nice to see those spots again.

Soon we were back in Highland Park, pulling up in front of my place. I could already see some Christmas decorations out the front: the lush wreath on the double doors and the dozens and dozens of strings of lights across the roof and windows.

We both hopped out of the car and Sawyer grabbed the pile of bags with ease.

I had put a pause on all of those lonely feelings brimming around inside of me, leaving them far behind in New York.

For a little while, the city would be long gone, and we’d have Christmas to look forward to.

It’d be nothing but warm moments and making memories and us just being together.

“You think he still hates me?” Sawyer asked next to me as we walked up the stairs.

“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable while you stay here. Like you don’t belong. You do, and don’t let him convince you otherwise.” I turned to face him when we got to the top of the stairs. “If it’s weird for you to be here…”

“I was just joking.” He smiled at me. “It’s okay. We’ll stay.”

“If he says anything to you, I’m gonna—”

The sound of the front doors swinging open cut me off, and I turned to see my wide-eyed mother there in the doorway.

She looked as elegant as ever in her white sweater, her black pants contrasting against the soft looking material.

I was hit with the gentle smell of jasmine and rose, her familiar Chanel perfume so comforting.

“I thought I heard noise!” She threw her arms around me, bringing me in close.

“I missed you so much. Come inside, come inside. Oh, Sawyer, look at you. You look even taller than the last time I saw you. Come here! It’s so nice to see you.

” Her arms were thrown around him next as she stood on the tips of her toes, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Sawyer’s eyes found mine, a little smile on his face as he raised his eyebrows up at me. He dropped the bags to the ground, moving his own arms around Mom. “It’s good to see you too.”

“Is that Holly?” I heard my father’s voice call out.

I turned again and watched my dad approach the doorway, his steps fast and his smile big as he hugged me to him.

“I missed you,” he said with a sigh. “It’s like you’ve been gone for a decade.”

“It hasn’t been that long, Daddy.” I laughed. “I missed you too.”

“Well, come inside. It’s getting cold out here.”

“Say hello to him,” I said so lowly only he could hear. “And be nice, or we’ll find a hotel to stay in and I’ll bring Mom with me and you’ll spend Christmas all alone.”

Pulling back, I searched his face. I could tell what he was thinking: that he would have been much, much happier if it was just me who had showed up at the door, but I knew my threat was ringing in his ears.

My eyes flickered over to my mom and Sawyer.

She was giving one of his cheeks a pinch, her other hand patting down his hair.

“Sawyer, my dad has something he wants to say to you,” I said.

Mom’s head snapped over to our direction. “And what’s that, Joe? What do you want to say?”

My dad tensed up next to me, but slowly, he closed the gap between himself and Sawyer. “Holly’s got you carrying all those bags, huh?” he said. “Let me help. I don’t know why you brought so much stuff, Holly, you’ve still got a whole heap of clothes here.”

“You two come in and rest,” Mom said. “What a long drive. You’re probably both so tired. I’ll get you both something to eat. Joe, come help.”

And I knew “come help” really meant “leave those two alone” as Mom guided us into the living room, warm air hitting me at the same time as the smell of freshly baked cookies did.

The room was expertly decorated the same way my Mom did every year.

There were fresh garlands that ran across the fireplace mantel and all the windows.

The fireplace was on and there was a red and green wreath that hung above it.

And in the corner stood the tree, all tall and looming, the top crowned with a sparkling gold star and the base swamped with presents galore.

“Swanky,” I heard Sawyer say behind me.

I spun around to face him. “It’s… a lot. My mom likes to go all out for Christmas.”

“Yeah, I can tell.”