“Where are we going, then?”
“You’ll see.”
I pretend to be unamused, but teasing has always looked good on him. He grins as he takes a long slurp of his thick shake and then swirls his tongue around the straw.
“Oh, no, stop, I’m so turned on,” I say in the flattest voice I can manage.
He leans over and licks his cold tongue along my bottom lip. “You had sauce.”
“Sure I did.”
My phone lights up on the console between us, and we both glance down.
Dad: Where are you?
“Umm … I might have forgotten to tell him I was leaving.”
Something pinches in Asher’s face, but it disappears quickly. He balls up his garbage and puts the car back in drive as I text back.
Me: Sorry, out with a friend.
Then I check that Asher isn’t watching and add, Might stay at Katey’s tonight, I’ll let you know.
Because even though there’s no way I’d be getting sex at Asher’s, and we’d have to stay fully clothed, the idea of stretching out beside him is an addictive one, and if this date goes well, that’s where I want to end up.
We’re on the road for fifteen minutes, and Asher has chosen a radio station with Christmas carols playing. It’s painful torture, and when “Jingle Bells” starts for the second damn time, I lean my head back and try not to groan.
I swear the car is full of Asher. His scent, his warmth, his presence. I really need to touch him. Not his dick, but that would be nice too. Just … him. His hand or his face or to feel his arm tight around my waist again. From a week of nothing to something so … claimy, I’d loved it.
We turn into a residential street lined with cars, and Asher slows as he looks for a parking space. There doesn’t seem to be much of anything around.
“If our date consists of your dropping me off at some rando’s house and expecting me to find my way back, I’ve gotta say, I don’t think I love it.”
He laughs softly and pulls into a free spot. “Definitely not what we’re doing, but it’s great to know you have such a high opinion of me.”
“Ooh, does that mean I can drop you here and have you find your way back?”
“Wouldn’t work. I’ve been here too many times.”
Way to make a guy feel special, Asher. “With that girlfriend you mentioned?”
“With my parents.” He turns off the car and climbs out, and I rush to undo my seat belt and follow him. He waits for me on the footpath, and as soon as I reach him, he takes my hand.
I squeeze it. I can’t stop smiling. “Have you been here since?”
“Not before I left for the juniors. Christmas last year was pretty shit, if I’m honest.”
I can only imagine. “You’re not going to start crying on me again, are you?”
“Well, now I know how much it turns you on …” He pretends to sniff, and his lip quivers.
I punch him in the arm. “You’re an idiot.”
“Well, you bring out the best in me.”
I really hope that’s true.
Asher lets go of my hand and wraps an arm around my shoulders instead. I lean into his touch as he starts to walk, and it only takes a block to realize where we’re heading.
“Christmas lights?”
We’ve reached a cul-de-sac, and every house is decked out with festive displays. The road has been blocked off, and there are people caroling and others selling homemade, well, whatever, and the smell of cinnamon and something fruity is heavy on the air.
“How have I lived in Colchester for six years and never knew this was here?”
“Your dad doesn’t exactly seem like the festive type.”
That’s true. It’s always hilarious seeing his face when he unwraps the ugly matching Christmas sweaters Mom buys us. By this point, I think she does it to screw with him.
Asher leads me to a stand selling hot cocoa, which sounds amazing given how damn cold it is.
We wander for a while, taking it all in and pointing out badly placed decorations. In particular, one that at a certain angle looks like—
“Do you think Santa’s fucking that reindeer by choice?” Asher asks.
“That’s what I was wondering. Either way, Mrs. Claus doesn’t look impressed.”
“Maybe that’s her turned-on face.”
“You know, I always wanted to visit the North Pole as a kid. Now, I’m having reservations.”
Asher pulls me a bit closer. “Total sexfest up there, I swear.”
We move on to the next house, and when the carolers start on “Jingle Bells,” I find the song a whole lot more enjoyable this time.
It’s cold, and the wind is biting at my cheeks, but everyone around us has massive smiles on their faces. Kids are goddamn everywhere, building snowmen and shrieking at their parents, and we have to dodge a few rogue snowballs, but it all adds to the atmosphere.