Without thought, I accept his invite to enter his home. We stop between the kitchen and living room and face one another.
“I hate mint-flavored bars or any of that puppy chow crap.” His eyes drop to the contents that I’m holding. He raises his chin and inspects my hands. “Any brownies in there?”
I break out in a grin and hand him his present. “Of course.”
He lifts the lid and makes a sound with a grimace. “Maybe edible.”
My hand finds my hip. “Maybe? Geez. Really know how to be grateful.”
“Ooh, a Gimel.” He sounds pleased.
I rise up on the balls of my feet so I can review what cookie he is holding, and my forehead squinches as he holds a dreidel with something on it. I’m not sure what it means. “You know Hebrew?”
He lifts a shoulder and cooly plays it off. “Long story, but I have a few Jewish relatives, genealogy reports, and the indication that apparently I should have been paying more attention to Hanukkah growing up. Actually, Asher, my coach and cousin-ish, he is half-Jewish. They go hardcore Chrismukkah. So yeah, I can drink your Gimel, Nun, Hey, and Shin under the table.”
I stare at him blankly, as I was not expecting that. “Oh, well, that’s cool.” There is a moment of silence, and I quickly realize why.
His expression turns confused when he pulls out a gingerbread man, except…
“Is this…?” He holds the cookie up for inspection.
My entire face falls into embarrassment. “I’m going to kill her,” I mumble to myself.
“Is this a cookie shaped like a dick?”
My hand comes up to my face to try and cover my flushed warm face that is probably red. “It would appear so, and I’m terribly sorry for… the mix-up.” My voice rises an octave.
Now he just smirks at me. “Should I ask why a dick-shaped cookie was even on your cookie-making menu?”
I shake my head feverishly side to side.
He tosses the cookie back as he walks to the counter to set the container down. All the while, I wonder how the knot of the towel hasn’t come undone.
The moment he catches me looking at him, I blush and nibble on my bottom lip.
“You okay there?” He is doing his best to maintain his confident smirk.
“Yeah, um, totally.” I twist at the bottom of my shirt. “Just wanted to drop them off and apologize. I shouldn’t have thrown myself at you.”
“No need to apologize, and you didn’t throw yourself at me.”
Gulping, I’m struggling here because he has swagger when he strides slowly my way.
“Still. You’re right to have stopped it and…”
He halts just in front of me, with his body far too close, and I shiver because I can’t escape in the bestpossible way.
His head dips down, and his breath cascades along my cheek until he is near my ear. “Lainey, just because I was a gentleman, doesn’t mean I wanted to be one.”
I’m about to snap. This overbearing feeling is taking over me. “For the sake of humanity, I need you in more than a towel right now.” And ah shit, I just said that out loud.
He retreats his head back slightly, bubbling a deep laugh. “Trust me, answering the door in my towel wasn’t on purpose. However, what is it you say? Spread some holiday cheer?”
I sputter out a laugh. “Did you just attempt to be funny?”
The back of his knuckles run along the edge of my jaw while the thumping in my chest is running a marathon, and my core is turning to liquid.
“Since you are having a better day and I have a better understanding of things, can I do something?” He sounds hopeful.
