Who knows, maybe we can spend this one evening together without being at each other’s throats.
1 What a wonderful situation, no matter how you look at it. Like the ultimate dream (sarcastic)
2 God
3 you’re an idiot
FIVE
My Favorite Kind of Dessert
LOGAN
At dinner,our conversation remains surface-level. Mostly, we talk about the food and our favorite dishes. The three of us sit at the wooden table in the corner of the cabin. Its matching chairs and the coordinating bookshelves create a rustic vibe, though the place is anything but. The dining area is open to the living room, making it one big space, and the place is equipped with everything a guest could need.
Camden watches Yana’s every move, and he hangs on to her every word. He tries to hide it, but I know him well enough to see the subtleties. The way he swallows thickly each time she smiles, the way his jaw tightens when I lean into her. I’ve never asked for confirmation, but I’m pretty sure he noticed her first. It’d be a lie if I said it didn’t eat at me. Every day—hell, every hour—my attraction to her grows. Knowing that my best friend, the one guy who knows every part of me, is attracted to her too makes me fucking jealous.
But there’s another sensation there too, something hotter. A jolt of excitement hits me every time I consider that he might want her as badly as I do. I shouldn’t like it. I should want to shutit down, claim her, make it clear she’s mine. Yet when his eyes track her, my pulse spikes in a way I can’t explain.
The stone fireplace is tall and wide. It’s the room’s focal point, with a big sectional and a coffee table in front of it. One of the first things I noticed when I stepped into the cabin was the absence of a Christmas tree. There’s not a single sign of the approaching holiday. Does that mean she isn’t celebrating it?
I decide to go for it.
“You don’t like Christmas?” I ask.
The warm lighting emphasizes her freckles as she shifts and tucks her hair behind her ear. “Why would you think that?”
Camden beats me to it, saying, “There’s no Christmas tree. No lights. Literally nothing.”
“I do like Christmas.” She sighs. “But I don’t celebrate it on the 25th. The orthodox church I belong to celebrates it on January 7th, so we tend to celebrate and exchange gifts on January 1st.” She sets her glass on the table. “For my family, Christmas is more like a secular holiday. An opportunity for us to get together more than anything.” She glances at Camden, then at me. “Though after I’d been in the US for a couple of years, I got more into the Christmas spirit. I normally put up a Christmas tree in my apartment, but it felt unnecessary this year since I won’t be home. And I’m only here for a week, so decorating the cabin seems silly.”
The more she talks, the more I realize how much I like her voice. She has an accent, but her words are soft. Like she’s good at meeting the tone of the person speaking to her, mimicking their habits and pronunciations.
“Roman mentioned that, but I didn’t pay much attention at the time,” Camden drawls. “He said his family celebrates Christmas twice.”
Smiling, Yana nods. “Yup. I’ve been to parties at their house on January 7th and also on the 25th.” She takes a sip of her apple juice. “What about you two? Do you celebrate Christmas?”
Camden’s smile slips, and he lowers his focus to his plate. Fuck. I should’ve mentioned this when I asked her not to call him the Grinch. All because his late granny used to call him that whenever he wasn’t in the mood close to Christmas.
“I love Christmas,” I chime in, cutting through the awkwardness that’s swept over us. “I usually spend the holiday with my parents and my little sister, Lucy. This year, she might be more excited for my visit than Santa’s.”
A bolt of laughter springs out of Yana’s mouth. “What did you promise your little sister that has her so excited?” She tilts her head to the side. “And how little are we talking?”
“A new iPad with an Apple pencil. And she’s eight.”
Yana’s mouth falls open, and her eyes go wide. “Your sister is…” She peers up at the ceiling, a crease between her brows. “She’s seventeen years younger than you?”
“Yup.” I can’t help but smirk. This woman knows how old I am? Interesting. “Did you google me?”
She snorts. “I did, and I’m a hundred percent sure you did the same for me.”
I wince playfully. “Guilty.”
The air between us shifts, becoming more charged. Our glances linger, the tone of our voices heavier. The flirting more pronounced. It all screams mutual attraction, and I honestly can’t wait to be alone with Yana. The way I want her is mind-blowing.
I’ve never craved a woman more than I crave this one.
“What about you, Camden?” she asks, ripping me out of my thoughts.
