“That’s how a mom should be,” he says quietly. “Not… Anyway.”
His voice sounds so far away, so tired. My heart feels like it’s shattering inside my chest for him. Today was probably terrible, reminding him of the things he never had when he was younger. And I was rambling on and on this morning…God.I’m such an idiot.
My eyes are watering so badly that I can hardly see now. What have I done? Did I ruin Christmas for him? Did I ruin the whole thing because I was running my mouth again?
“Tatum,” I rasp, “I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about how today might feel for you, and I went on and on this morning… Oh, God?—”
He finally looks up at me. “No, Maeve. Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?” I ask in a small voice.
“Apologizing. You expressed your feelings this morning; you don’t have to apologize. Today meant everything to me.”
The shock that ripples through my body almost has me shivering at his words. I don’t know what I expected him to say, but I never do. He keeps surprising me. “It did?”
He nods.
“I thought you were upset. You?—”
“I was overwhelmed. But I…liked it. I’ve never really celebrated Christmas before. My mom calling me threw me off,” he pauses, “but it only reminded me of how lucky I am. To be here. With you.”
I’m momentarily stunned, again. My mouth even hangs open slightly this time. “You—I—You feel lucky?”
“Yes.”
A tear manages to escape down my cheek as I quickly wipe it away with the back of my hand. As minuscule as it was, Landon never told me things like that. No one ever has. He would buy me things and show me off in front of important people, but in private…he yelled, held things over my head, and grabbed my arms so hard sometimes that they would bruise. Then he’d apologize later, almost a completely different person, and those times were so nice when it felt like he actually wanted me. I clung to those times. It took me a while to realize what was happening between us was wrong.
Being around Tate makes it much clearer.
It’s like I’ve had on sunglasses this whole time, and now that they’re off, I can see things clearer, brighter. The gloomy shade doesn’t mask everything anymore.
Hedoes that for me.
More tears must have fallen, because he’s reaching up to gently swipe them away with his thumbs, tearing me out of my thoughts.
“Don’t cry,” he pleads softly.
I try to drop my head to my chest to avoid looking him in the eye, but he quickly reacts, grasping my face in his palms to hold me there. The notion makes my stomach flip, and I hesitantly peer down at him. There was a time when I was scared to cry in front of people, scared of the reaction I would get. Landon would tell me I’m too sensitive, too much of a crybaby.
Stop crying, Maeve. It makes you look puffy.
Stop crying, Maeve. I can’t stand listening to you.
Stop crying, Maeve. All you do is cry.
“It’s okay,” Tate whispers. “You can let it out. As long as you need to.”
Like he just read my thoughts, he silences them in one breath. The urge to cry dissipates as I stare down at him, blinking slowly as my eyebrows pull together, registering his words. His face looks so soft as he watches me tentatively, waiting for what I’m going to do next. He probably thinks I’m going to burst out in tears. I was…I think, but now—now all I can think about is kissing the life out of him.
So I do.
I take one swift step forward at the same time I collide against him and envelop my arms around his neck, slamming my lips down on his. I must’ve taken him by surprise, because he doesn’t move for a second, but it’s only a second before his hands fall from my face as he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me further against him.
My fingers knot in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging his head back just a bit, opening him up a bit more for me. When my tongue finally finds his, he’s pulling me into his lap like I weigh as much as a feather, groaning into my mouth as he does.
I can feel how hard he is underneath me, and somehow, I muster the strength to break the kiss, pulling back enough to see his face, his dilated pupils, his flushed cheeks.
“Is this…” I trail off.
