Ugly Sweater Weather

Christmas-loving being a family trait, she was dressed in red and green striped leggings with a dark green sweater dress over it.

"I never get a chance to dress up anymore; leave me alone," she'd said to me when I suggested that she was a little dressed up for baking cookies.

"Because we are close to the end now, and I haven't even kissed her."

"No, but you are making progress. It sounds like you almost kissed her yesterday."

"Almost doesn't count," I reminded her. "And today isn't going to lead anywhere."

"Sorry I am being such a blocker," she said, wincing. "I would have stayed with Mom and Dad today if I thought I was cramping your style."

"It's fine," I told her. It was especially fine because the chipper response I got from Dea about Noel being around seemed to suggest to me that she wasn't as interested as I had thought at the ice-skating rink the day before.

Everything was started to feel stupid and pointless all of a sudden. All the planning, all the hope, and I was getting nowhere.

And then I had to start wondering if the whole scheme in the first place had been wrong and manipulative, that I was being that stereotypical jerk who didn't want to be friends with a girl, who felt like there always had to be more to a connection with the opposite sex, that I was being the kind of creep who thought he was entitled to her body just because she gave me her time.

But no.

No, I knew I wasn't that guy.

I had plenty of other casual female friends.

They were buddies. We had fun when we hung out, but there had never been a spark there, there'd never felt like there was potential for anything more.

With Dea, it was different.

There was a closeness there that I had never experienced with friends of either gender before. And if this experiment had produced absolutely no results, I would have known for sure that this was one-sided. But all I had gotten from Dea was mixed signals. And, the longer it went on, the more I was pretty sure those signals weren't as mixed as they had once been, that there was a spark on her side as well.

It was just getting rough to keep up the hope when each date just never seemed to lead anywhere.

"What's tomorrow's date?" Noel asked, reaching for her cup of tea.

"Tomorrow we have a charity thing at the shelter we got Lillybean and Lock from." More public places, less chance for anything to spark.

"And then?"

"Then we have a friend throwing a big Christmas Eve party."

"That's promising."

Maybe.

Hopefully.

"And then it is Christmas Day. She was originally going to do that with her mom at her place, but I suggested she come to our parents' place to celebrate. I hate the idea of her being alone on Christmas."

"You're a good egg, Crosby, a good egg. And if you saw even a hint of a spark, then I think you need to buck up and make a move already. I mean, not with me standing here. Gross. But find a stolen moment tomorrow or at the Christmas party. You owe this to yourself to try."

She was right.

This was a marathon, not a sprint, and we weren't at the finish line yet.

"Ugh!" I heard as something clattered to the ground outside my door.

"She's here," Noel said, wiggling her brows at me.

"You alright?" I asked when I opened the door, finding her crouched down, trying to gather all of her dropped items while holding Lock's leash, and not spill the coffee in her hand.

"It's one of those 'everything that can go wrong, will' days," she said, looking up at me with eyes that said she was seconds away from tears if something didn't give already.

"Alright," I said, taking Lock's leash from her hand, pushing him in the door behind me to go greet Lillybean and Noel, then grabbing her hand that was frantically trying to gather items, only managing to make them scatter further. "Take a breath," I suggested, giving her hand a squeeze. "Good, now go on inside and say hey to Noel. I will handle this."

"You don't always need to save the day," she said, offering me a wobbly smile.

"You don't always have to do everything yourself," I countered. "It's okay to accept help when you've had a bad day. Now go relax," I told her.

"Thank you," she told me, her hand turning under mine so she could give mine a squeeze. There was a pause then, her gaze finding mine, and there was something there, something she seemed like she wanted to share, but then she pulled her hand away, moving to stand. "You're the best," she added in a light tone, but it sounded oddly forced for her.

But she was gone before I could press it, leaving me gathering up the groceries before moving in to find her trying to pull Lockjaw off of Noel's leg.