Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 38249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 191(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 191(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
She leans her head on my shoulder. "I thought you were going to spend Christmas with your family."
I nudge her cheek with my nose. "I texted my mom. Told her my girlfriend was dying, and I had to save her." I pause. "She told me to bring you over as soon as you're human again."
Dani makes a face. "I don't think that's happening today."
"Then we'll have our own Christmas," I say, pulling her closer. "You, me, and this entire rotisserie chicken."
She laughs, weak but real. "I'm not sure I'll be able to hold it down."
"Then you'll eat broth," I say, already mentally prepping the chicken. "And when you can stomach more, I'll make you soup. And when you can stomach even more, we'll eat the fudge. I tested it on the way home. No honey."
She's quiet for a second, staring at the little container of fudge, then at me.
"You're kind of a sap," she says, voice hoarse.
"Yeah, but I'm your sap." She turns, burrowing her face in my neck. I hold her there, rubbing her back, waiting for the part where she tells me I'm suffocating her or being an idiot. It never comes.
"You really don't have to stay," she whispers instead.
"I want to."
"Why?" She pulls back, searching my face like there's some secret code I haven't given her yet.
I don't hesitate. Not this time.
"Because I love you," I say, my voice clear and firm. "And I'm not letting the woman I love spend Christmas alone. I'd rather be here with you than anywhere else."
She's frozen, mouth open, eyes wide.
I keep going, because fuck it, she needs to hear it. "I realized, on that godforsaken grocery run, that I'm never going to regret saying it too soon, Sunshine. The only thing I'll regret is not saying it often enough because you deserve to hear it every goddamn day. You deserve to have someone to run to, someone who doesn't let you down, and I plan to be that guy. I love you. I don't care if it's crazy, if you're not ready, or if you freak the fuck out about it. I love you."
She's silent for a long time, and then she blinks. "You're not supposed to say that when I'm this gross."
I laugh, the sound raw and a little desperate. "I don't give a fuck. You could turn into a swamp monster, and I'd still love you, Dani. Hell, I'd probably still want to fuck you."
She snorts, then coughs, then winces. "I can't believe you bought me fudge."
I reach for the box, pop it open, and break off a chunk. "You tried to kill me with it. I figured I might as well try to cure you with it."
She snorts again, her eyes bright with something dangerously close to tears. She takes the fudge from me, nibbling at the edge, then hands it back to me.
"I had time to think while you were gone too," she whispers. "I thought you wouldn't come back, and it made me sad, Trent. Because I never told you…" She swallows. "I love you."
"Jesus."
"I panicked when you said you were fell in love with me, and then I regretted not saying it back." She blinks up at me, shy and sweet. "I'm glad you came back."
"I'll always come back to you, Sunshine. Always."
"If you tell anyone that you watched me throw up, I'll murder you."
"Noted," I say, grinning so hard my face hurts.
We eat soup and then share a tiny piece of fudge before curling up on the couch together.
I wrap my arms around her, tucking her under my chin. She clings to me, still feverish but feeling a little less like death. Within minutes, she's asleep, drooling into my shirt and snoring like a baby.
It's perfect, the best Christmas I've ever had.
Chapter Eight
Dani
"Do not throw up," I mumble to myself two days after Christmas, standing outside the PT suite. On the other side of the doors, it looks a little like Santa's elves went on a cocaine bender, then forgot to clean up.
The air is thick with the scent of Febreze, bleach, and half-melted Hershey's Kisses. There are three empty candy bowls. One, still half-full, glimmers with the orphan candies no one ever eats because they taste like sadness and regret. Tinsel still drapes the door in a way that's less festive and more crime scene, and a battered ornament blinks sporadically from under the fake tree in the corner.
Trent's confession still echoes in my head. The first time he said he fell in love with me, I panicked, certain he didn't mean it the same way I did. But then he said it again, like it was the simplest truth in the world.
Every fear and worry I had just sort of…vanished.
If being with him costs me this job, so be it. There will be other jobs, but there won't be another Trent.