Sweet Nothing

“Well, yeah—wait, what? I do not wear granny panties! Who told you that? Was it Deb?”

I chuckled. “I know I have a reputation. I’m not going to lie to you and say I didn’t earn it.” Putting the car in park, I turned to look at her as she wrung her hands together in her lap, visibly cringing. “I’ve never made any promises to anyone, Avery. Every one of those women knew what I was putting on the table.”

“You haven’t made any promises to me, either.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but I could hear the tiniest edge of hurt in her words. “I guess I’m just saying … if this is all part of the game, I don’t think I want to play. I’m not like the other nurses.”

I reached over to her, hesitating before slipping her honey-colored strands behind her ear, my fingertips brushing against her soft cheek. She turned toward me, worry in her eyes. Whatever this was, she felt it too, and it was scaring the hell out of both of us.

“Avery, you think that bothers me? That’s what I like about you.”

I could see that she was still uncertain, but she was willing to trust me, to give me a chance. That’s all I could ask for. Something changed the night I held her unconscious in my arms. I couldn’t hurt Avery. If I had it my way, no one would hurt her again.

She looked out over the row of trees before us. “You brought me to … the woods.”

“Yes.” I shoved open my door and made my way to her side of the car to open hers.

She hesitated before sliding her palm against mine and letting me pull her to her feet.

“I’m not really dressed for the outdoors. You should have warned me. I could have changed before we left.”

“You look perfect. Just trust me, Avery.” Lacing my fingers between hers, I pulled her through the greenery, pine needles crunching under our feet. Her grip tightened on my hand as twinkling lights began to peek out between the branches.

“What is this?” she asked. She began to walk faster, now the one pulling me. I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face as her very own living Christmas tree came into view. I’d done my best to clear the area around the small pine. Finding the decorations in the middle of summer was the hard part. My family didn’t celebrate much of anything after my sister passed away, and I didn’t care to carry on any traditions when I moved out.

She gasped, and I smiled.

I didn’t admit it to Avery on our last date, but I had reasons to hate Christmas, too. As much as I wanted to make all her old memories into happy new ones, I needed it for myself, too. Luckily, Quinn’s mother had no shortage of twinkle lights, balls, and tinsel. She’d filled the box I’d brought over with every piece she could find, including a snowman made out of Styrofoam to add to the ambience. The rest took some creativity. I’d emptied damn near every shredder in the hospital to gather enough “snow” to lay on the ground around the tree. I promised to clean up every scrap of paper to be able to pull this off in Amos’s Tree Farm.

I reached up and tugged on a string hanging from a branch, making a cardboard box with holes cut in the bottom shake out its contents. The fake snow concoction I’d learned to make online floated down around us. Avery marveled at the sodium polyacrylate I’d harvested from a package of value diapers mixed with water, making me feel pretty damn great. The snow wasn’t perfect. Some of it fell in clumps, but she seemed to appreciate the gesture.

“Josh,” she whispered. The sound of my name in her mouth made the hair on my neck stand on end. “This is incredible.”

“I almost forgot.” Pulling my cell phone from my pocket, I scrolled through my music before slipping an earbud into my ear and holding one out for her. She held the tiny speaker to her ear, and her eyes brightened as White Christmas began to play. She beamed from ear to ear as she slipped her free hand back in mine and leaned her head against my shoulder.

“Christmas isn’t so bad,” she whispered.

From the corner of my eye, I could see her eyes glisten, reflecting the colors from the hanging lights above us.

She looked up and then back at me, feigning disappointment. “No mistletoe?”

She was like gravity. My entire body moved toward her, and the only thing I could do was wrap her in my arms and touch my lips to hers.

Even with my eyes closed, I could see my future with Avery. Everything I’d heard about first kisses and falling for someone manifested in that moment: fireworks, electricity, music playing, ridiculous happiness, and even bells ringing. Her lips parted, and I slipped the tip of my tongue inside. She squeezed my hand, nearly sending me over the edge.

I pulled away, looking down at our fake-snow-covered feet. “Whoa.”

She picked white flakes from her hair and then glanced around, looking happier and more beautiful every second. “I also hate the little wrinkle above my top lip when I smile,” she said, smiling and pointing to it. “Are you going to change that, too?”

I shook my head. “I wouldn’t change a damn thing about you. What else you got?”

“Road trips.”

I leaned back. “Seriously?”

“Loathe them. I don’t think it’s possible to fix that.”

“Make a list,” I said without hesitation. Playing it cool or being aloof or hard to get wasn’t fun anymore. Avery didn’t want to play games, and there was no question I wanted Avery. I was all in, and I was hoping she meant what she said, or trying to wear my heart on my sleeve would blow up in my face.

“Global warming, the smell of coconuts and cigarette smoke, white ribbed man tanks, being the center of attention, overripe bananas, spiders, baseball, screaming children, bacon, drool, gagging, mucus, crumbs, Howard Stern, static cling, bad haircuts, leaving Costco without a churro, and the word elbow.”