Holiday Escort: A Christmas Novella Read Free Page B

shut the door behind me.
    “Yep. Editor in Chief. I’m surprised you remember that.”
    “I think that’s a cool job. It obviously pays well,” he says as he takes a look around my apartment. His eyes move from my suede, deep-cushioned love seat and recliner, to the hardwood floor covered in blue, brown, and white vintage rugs, and then my four-top table set by the wide, rectangular window.
    “Great view,” he notes, gesturing to the towers ahead.
    “Thanks.” I watch as he walks around my place, looking at a few photos on the wall, the granite countertops in the kitchen, the notepad on my fridge with pointless reminders scribbled on it.
    His eyes then drift over to the television and he points at it, smirking. “Sex and the City?”
    I scratch my upper arm, inexplicably nervous. “One of my favorite shows.”
    “Hmm. Good to know.” He gestures towards the couch with a bob of his head. “Do you mind if I sit?”
    “Of course not.” I walk forward and move one of the pillows over. “Sit. Get comfortable. Would you like something to drink?”
    “No, I should be okay for now. Don’t want to take up too much of your time.”
    I sit in the recliner, picking up the remote control and muting the volume.
    “So, how has your day been so far?” I ask, hoping to ward off the encroaching awkwardness.
    “My day has been okay so far.” He is calm, almost eerily so. “How about yours?”
    “Mine was pretty good. Got all of my work done at the office, came home and drowned in popcorn and reruns. Not too shabby.”
    He finds that comical. I can tell by the way his face changes, how his eyes light up with humor. “Sounds like the perfect day.”
    “Yeah.” I nod, looking from him to the TV. “Oh, I have my list!” I hop up, going for my bag on the table and digging it out. “I wrote some of it up last night but transferred it to a cleaner sheet or paper.”
    He quirks a cheek and a brow, taking the unfolded paper from me as I hand it to him. He reads over it, and when he comes across one that clearly stands out, a smile twitches at his lips.
    He rakes his fingers through his hair. “How many times have you won a game of basketball against your brother Stanley?”
    I grin. “Nine out of like one hundred games. We’ll probably play again over the weekend. It’s what we always do when we get together. We’re very competitive sometimes.”
    “And he’s your favorite, but I shouldn’t hint at that?”
    “Yeah, try not to let it be too obvious. I wrote it down so you’d know who I get along with most.”
    “Who do you get along with the least?”
    “Bailey… my second-oldest sister.”
    “And why is that?”
    “Because she thinks she knows better than everyone, especially me. Older siblings are annoying that way.”
    “You are twenty-eight, correct?”
    “Yes.”
    “I turn twenty-nine tomorrow,” he says.
    “Oh wow! We have to celebrate then! Maybe I’ll bake a cake or something!”
    “Ha. You really don’t have to.” He scratches the tip of his nose with his thumb, dropping the paper on the coffee table.
    “Come here,” he says as he sits back.
    My brows draw together. “W-what?”
    “Come here.”
    “Why?”
    “If we are going to do this, you have to be close. You have to get used to sitting beside me, not across the room. Distance won’t look good.” Amusement swirls deep in his eyes, his mouth tilting upwards.
    “You think they’ll notice that?”
    “If you want them to believe that you actually enjoy having me for a ‘boyfriend’ or whatever you want me to be, you have to show it more than you actually say it. So, Piper, please. Come here.”
    His eyes warm up, now swimming with a hint of fascination.
    I swallow thickly, standing slowly and making my way across the room to sit beside him on the loveseat.
    He has his arm on the top of the sofa, and as I sit, I realize how wonderful he smells. Like a piney, winter forest.
    Strong and sweet.
    Cool and refreshing.
    Matthew looks me