“…I’m not trying to start a fight, but it’s like you had a brain transplant or something. Not even a month ago, you went out of your way to be a hermit. We practically had to threaten you with Mom to get you to come to Friday dinners. You looked like you wanted to take a torch to every Christmas display and a hammer to every speaker playing holiday music. Now, you’re trying to get us to do even more than we originally talked about. Oh, and you’re suddenly in a relationship with a man, even though you’ve always gone out of your way to make sure the women you’ve dated understood you don’t do commitment. Admit it, you’d call me out if roles were reversed.” I should walk away. This wasn’t a conversation meant for me to overhear, yet I was rooted in my spot.
A hollow ache formed in my chest as Anson voiced my own concerns. Hehadchanged. And as badly as I wanted to believe Carson was truly enjoying this holiday season, part of me worried it was all a front.
Or maybe that’s your mother wheedling her way into your head.
No. You know that’s not true. Don’t let her ruin something good.
Carson was giving me exactly what I’d asked for: patience. But were the cuddles, kisses, and above-the-belt touching enough for him? For how long?
“Get out of here, moneybags. Go pick up that boyfriend of yours and go on a shopping spree...” Anson was talking about me. I was the boyfriend. It only took my brain a couple of seconds longer than it should have to realize that. I rushed toward the door, hoping no one would blow my cover and tell Carson I wasn’t just getting there. Then again, that would mean someone would have had to notice me coming in, and the chances of that were slim, given the chaos.
I waited until the brothers were done talking, then rounded the corner. “Hey. I got done earlier than I thought, so I walked up here.”
“Awesome!” Carson pulled me into a tight hug. “It sounds like I have to go shopping again. It’s my brother’s punishment for me opening my big mouth.”
“Yeah, what did you say?” My mother used to say no good came to those who snooped, and her words echoed through my head now, along with Anson’s comments about how out of character Carson’s behavior was. As much as I hated to admit it, maybe she wasn’t so far off-base after all. He’d never been ashamed of his womanizing ways in the past, and now he was with me. He’d never pressured me to take things further.
Logically, I knew that was probably him respecting my ask for patience, but Anson’s words had me wondering if there was more to it.
But then there were the moments like this when he showed no shame in keeping me in his arms as he kissed my cheek. That wasn’t something a person who was faking it did. And no matter how my brain tried convincing me this was some huge trick, I couldn’t figure out the endgame.
“Hey, what’s going on in that head of yours?” He pushed the hair away from my face and my glasses up the bridge of my nose. I’d never thought either would be an intimate gesture, but they were. “You’re a million miles away right now. You didn’t overdo it at work today, did you? If it was too much, you could have told me. We could have simplified the menu.”
“No, it’s nothing like that,” I hedged, not wanting to tell my strong, confident man how insecure I felt. I managed a weak smile, retreating from Carson’s touch under the pretense of checking on something I’d forgotten in another room. I needed a moment—just one—to breathe without the weight of his concern or the pressing reality that maybe I was just convenient for now.
In the solitude of the back hallway, the festive noises of the main hall muffled by distance, I allowed myself to face the gnawing thoughts.What if my mom is right? What if I’m just...just an experiment for Carson?The idea that I might just be some sort of holiday experiment, a stray picked up in the spirit of Christmas, sent a cold shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with the winter chill.
Leaning against the cool wall, I closed my eyes.How much of this is real? How much of what I’m feeling is just because I’ve never...?
The thought was too painful, too raw to fully form. I was in uncharted waters, adrift without a compass, and the man I was starting to fall for might just be the one to pull the ground out from under me.
I heard footsteps, but I didn’t move. I couldn’t. The footsteps stopped, and I knew without looking that it was him.
“Ezra?” Carson’s voice was tinged with concern. “Talk to me.”
I shook my head, still not trusting my voice.Don’t make me say it. Don’t make me admit that I’m scared of being nothing more than an experiment for you.
He didn’t push, just stepped closer, his presence a solid promise. “Whatever it is, we can face it. Together. I’m not going anywhere.”
But that was just it, wasn’t it? I wanted to believe him so desperately, but my mom’s and Anson’s words echoed in my ears, a stark reminder of the past. People didn’t change overnight.
“I’m just tired, Carson,” I lied, finally looking at him. The lie sat heavily on my chest, but the truth—that I was terrified of him realizing hedidcare about a person’s gender after all—was a burden I wasn’t ready to share.
Standing so close to the back door, the cold of the evening seemed to seep into my bones as I watched Carson’s eyes narrow, the dim light from the street lamps sharpening the lines of concern on his face. His stare, intense and probing, felt like a physical force trying to coax the truth from my lips.
I watched his breath cloud in the frosty air, each exhalation a silent testament to the tension hanging between us.
“I can tell something’s up,” he pressed gently, his face half-hidden in the shadow of the building. “If you’re not up for the crowds and the noise, we can call it a night. I’d rather just be with you. Make sure you’re okay.” His offer hung in the wintry air.
I felt the conflict within me churn. Part of me wanted him to keep probing, to force the turmoil out into the open, while yet another part craved the escape of silence. The earnestness in his voice, the way he stood there in the cold waiting for me to speak, it all made my heart ache with a mixture of gratitude and an inexplicable fear of the vulnerability that truth demanded.
“Can we go for a walk?” Carson slipped his hand into mine, giving it a gentle squeeze.
I nodded, grateful for the reprieve. As we walked side by side into the quiet of the evening, the twinkling lights of Main Street surrounding us, I made a silent vow.I’ll enjoy this, whatever this is, for as long as it lasts. But I won’t let it consume me. I can’t.
We wandered in silence, my mind churning with the words I hadn’t spoken. The festive glow of the shop windows did little to lift the weight from my chest.
The silence stretched between us, a vast and empty canvas against the backdrop of the quiet street. I was wrapped up in my own frenzy of thoughts when Carson’s voice cut through the stillness, each word carefully measured, revealing a hint of his own anxiety.
