Page 95 of Western Waves
I thought about kissing her.
I didn’t, but… yeah. I thought about it.
“Don’t do that, Damian,” she whispered.
“Do what?”
“Make my heart skip for you.”
We spentthe days leading up to Christmas doing every holiday thing possible. I’d watched Stella’s eyes light up in wonderment at the littlest things. We walked through the streets, admiring the Christmas lights. We drove up north to cut down our own tree and decorated it with strings of popcorn like she used to do with her mother, and strings of Froot Loops like I once did with a foster family.
The week before Christmas, we sat on the couch, drinking hot cocoa and watching yet another Christmas movie. This time, it wasIt’s a Wonderful Life. I’d never seen it, but Stella told me she watched it every single year with Kevin.
Lately, when she talked about him, I didn’t feel hatred anymore. I felt wonderment. I secretly wanted to know more about the man who raised her, and the one who didn’t get a chance to raise me, too. Would this have been our tradition? Would he have eaten scones with me, too?
We sat on the couch, and I’d be lying if I didn’t feel a touch of emotions at the end of the movie when the town came together for George.
“Are you crying?” Stella asked, looking my way. She, of course, was in tears.
Me, on the other hand? I sniffled. “No. Allergies.”
She laughed and nudged me in the arm. “Lying?”
“Yes.” Lying.
Every time she touched me, my body reacted with chills.
Nudge me again, Stella.
“I like this side of you, you know,” she explained. “The soft side.”
“It only comes out around you for some reason.”
“Do you feel safe with me, Beast?”
I wanted to make a sarcastic remark, to brush off her comment because it felt as if I were being too vulnerable with my emotions. Emotions I didn’t even know I’d had. Instead, I said, “Yes.”
She smiled, and my gosh, I wanted to kiss that smile and melt into her lips.
“Good,” she said, taking a sip of her cocoa. “Because I feel safe with you.”
Beat, beat, heart, heart.
“Oh! I was thinking! We should do Secret Santa!” she said, reaching around to a bowl on the side table beside her. “I actually put our names into a bowl so we can pull names.”
I laughed. “There’s only two of us.”
“Yes, but it’s still part of the fun of Secret Santa—pulling names.”
“Okay.” I smirked, reached into the bowl, and picked up a piece of paper. I unfolded it and read my own name. “Damian.”
Stella’s nose scrunched up, and she grabbed the piece of paper from my hand. “No, no. Pick again.”
I laughed and did as she said. As I was about to read her name out loud, she tossed her hands up in the air. “No! Don’t tell me who you got! It’s a secret!” she remarked.
“I adore you.” I chuckled.
Her brown eyes widened from my words. I’d been doing too much of that lately. Speaking without thought.