Jillian Dodd - Hate Me

“Yep,” he says with a naughty little smirk. “That was fun.”

“I’m still kicking myself for giving you that washcloth to cover up with.” I lean over and give him a kiss. “I think you should put this one on the tree.”

I open another box and find a glass Ferris wheel. “Aiden, are all of these going to make me cry?”

He puts his ornament on the tree, then kisses me. “They’re supposed to make you happy.”

“I’m crying because I am happy. And because, seriously, this might be the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

He gives me another kiss. Like our first kiss on the Ferris wheel. Perfectly amazing.

I walk over and put the Ferris wheel high up on the tree, just like we were when he kissed me at the top of it. Then I excitedly open another one. This one is an adorable piece of chocolate cake. “The peace offering?”

He nods.

“That cake was really good. And I like peace with you better than fighting.”

He gives me a steamier kiss this time, but I push him away after a few minutes. “I have a lot more ornaments to see! You need to stop kissing me.”

Of course, what does he do?

Gives me about ten more kisses.

I open a Santa, a nutcracker, and a nativity scene, which he tells me are just because it’s Christmas and every tree needs them. Then I open a Santa taking a bubble bath, the bubbles a pearly pink glass.

“Hmm. Let me guess. Our bubble bath. The one where you wore your swimsuit?”

He laughs. “Maybe after this, we’ll take a bubble bath without swimsuits.”

“I’m done opening ornaments for tonight,” I tease, putting this one on the tree.

“You’re bad,” he says, swatting me on the butt.

Which was probably the wrong thing for him to do, because it inspires me to jump on him, knocking him flat on the couch, and attack his face with sloppy kisses.

“Oh, ick,” he laughs. “This is going to take all night at the rate you’re going. No bubbles until the tree is decorated.”

“Fine,” I pout.

“How does that song go? You better not cry, better not pout ?”

“Speaking of that, we need Christmas music playing.”

He takes a sip of his wine and then says, “You’re right. And we should turn on the fireplace.”

I jump up and down a little. “Yes. You do the fire. I’ll turn on the music.”

“Much better,” he says, pulling me onto his lap when we’ve both made it a little more Christmas-y in here. “What do you want for Christmas?”

“You,” I reply.

He gets a little twinkle in his eye. “Are you offering sex to Santa?”

“I have been kinda naughty.”

“Well, maybe if you’re a good little girl, you’ll get what you want.”

“I lied. I’m always good.”

He shakes his head at me. “Santa doesn’t like it when people lie.”

“Oh,” I say, thinking about the boatload of lies I’ve told this year.

He hands me another box. “Open some more, then we’ll put them on the tree. Otherwise we’ll never get to that bath.”

I stay on his lap and open a Santa in a sleigh, a Santa in New York City—since that’s where we are now—and a Santa that’s surfing—since I taught Aiden how. The next one is Santa driving an ice-cream truck with a big cone on top of it. “When we went for ice-cream? I’m surprised that’s something you want to remember, seeing as you got all pissed off at me.”

“All I remember is the sexy way you were licking the cone. Got me all hot.”

Then I open one of an adorable pink purse with little peace signs and hearts on it.

“ I fucking love you . That’s what you told me when I gave you the purple purse,” he says.

“I was excited.”

“I know you love me.”

“I know you love me.”

“Still not ready to confess your love?” he teases.

“Apparently, neither are you.”

Next, I open a trio of colorful cowboy boots.

“Those might be my favorite, Boots.”

“I love them. Although when you gave me that nickname, I thought it was kinda dumb.”

“Dumb? I’m shocked. It was very original.”

“It’s still the name of the monkey on Dora the Explorer . I didn’t want to be a monkey. But now I like it. I like that it has meaning to both of us.”

He grins and hands me another box.

I look at the name of it. “The Sugar Shack?”

“Just open it.”

In the box is an adorable little gingerbread house covered with candy. “Hansel and Gretel got eaten there.”

“That’s supposed to be our mansion of love. Don’t make fun of it,” he says seriously.

“Oh. Well, then it’s adorable.”

The next one is The Three Little Pigs. “You’re on a roll. First Hansel and Gretel and now pork for dinner.”

“You’re silly. You know what it means.”

I get serious again. “It’s for a strong foundation.”

“Very good.”

I grab another box and find a sand castle—my castle on the beach—a Little Mermaid, and a Frog Prince.

“Oh, the Frog Prince is so cute.”

“I remember Damian said you used to make him be a frog.”

I hug him. Again.

Next, I open a Nutcracker prince.

“That was always my sister’s favorite ballet. I thought maybe since you dance, you’d like it too.”

“I love it. This will be the first Christmas that I won’t get to see it.”

He gives me his nearly-blinding happy smile.

“What?”

He tilts his head in the most adorable, aw-shucks way and pulls two tickets out of his wallet. “I got us tickets for Sunday afternoon.”

Which makes me start crying.

He wraps his arms around me. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“I haven’t bought any presents.”

“But we’re shopping tomorrow, all day.”

“I just feel bad that I haven’t gotten you anything yet. And you did all this. All the thought you put into it.”

“Boots, my mom and I went shopping when you weren’t dancing. I got a bunch of clothes for my birthday and when we were walking out, I saw the huge holiday section and decided to buy you some ornaments. Then my mom asked if you had a tree. So I bought one of the fake ones. It came with the lights on it. All I had to do was put three pieces together, plug it in, and put on the garland.”

“But these ornaments. They all have meaning.”

“They had a large selection. Seriously, I was like I want this one, and this one, and this one . Twenty minutes, tops.”

“It’s still amazing, Aiden.”

He kisses me then murmurs, “I’m glad you like it. That’s all I want. To make you happy. Come on, open the rest. And don’t feel guilty. This is our tree. The story of us. And I have an ulterior motive. I want to be so far in your life that, come August, you’ll never consider anyone but me.”

It’s much safer to open another ornament than to discuss that, mostly because I don’t even know if I’ll still be alive in August.

“Awwww! Look at this snowman! His little stick arms are full of shopping bags! That’s adorable!”

“I like shopping with you. So, are you going to wear the gorgeous dress I found last time we went shopping to Winter Formal?”

“Yeah, I am. And I found the perfect shoes to go with it.”

“I can’t wait to see you in it.”

I can’t wait for you to get me out of it , I think.

The next boxes I open are a cupcake with a clover on top, a mermaid Santa, and a seashell. “So the cupcake is just for the clover?”

“Uh huh.”

“And the mermaid—well, I guess technically he’s a merman—and seashells. Do those have to do with our wishes?” I touch the shell bracelet still tightly fastened to his wrist. “Are you ever going to tell me what you wished for?”