Ugly Sweater Weather

"Dea," I started, pulling back slightly, waiting for her eyelids to flutter open, finding them heavy-lidded even when they did.

I didn't want it if she was doing it just to try to keep me in her life. And I didn't trust myself to stand strong on that point if things went any further.

"No, you got to have your say. It's my turn now," she told me, chin jerking up. Normally, stubborn wasn't a look she pulled off, always a little too sweet to be believable. But she was determined to get something off her chest.

"Okay," I agreed, nodding, watching her hands settle onto her hips, pushing her back a step, while barely able to concentrate with her body pressed against mine. "That's fair."

"You didn't give me a minute to think things through," she accused, jaw getting tight. "You said what you had to say, then you slammed the door in my face before I had a chance to respond."

"Because I thought I knew your answer."

"Well, clearly, not," she said, brows arching up, giving her a haughty appearance that seemed out of place in her sweet face. "I just needed a couple of minutes to think."

"Think, or try to talk yourself into wanting the same things I want because you were afraid of losing our friendship?"

"At first, I thought the latter," she admitted. "But once I got home and had a couple minutes to sort through some things, I came to other conclusions."

"Sort through what things?" I asked, feeling a swell of hope that I was praying wasn't about to be dashed if my fears about her motives proved true after all.

"This whole Twelve Days of Christmas thing we've been doing. I've had... things have been a little confusing for me," she told me, gaze slipping away, her eyes studying my shirt.

"Confusing how?" I asked, that hope burning a little brighter.

"I don't know. I was getting this feeling like things had very suddenly and very drastically changed between us. But then, well, nothing ever happened, so I told myself I was being crazy. Or I was getting caught up in the, you know, feelings of the season or whatever. But it just kept happening each day."

"I was trying to be more obvious," I admitted. "That was why you were confused. Because I was trying to make you see that there was something else between us."

"Why didn't you just say something?"

"And be that guy?" I shot back. "You hate that guy. The one who can't be friends with women. The one who expects things to change from friendship to something more. I didn't want to put myself in that position. I wanted to see if when I amped things up on my side, made things more clear, if you would respond to that or not."

"But then... then why the big scene last night? Because you thought I fell in love with Dasher at first sight, but not you?"

"Sounds ridiculous when you put it that way, but it is something like that. I've been right here, Dea. Day and night for years. If you didn't love me already, I think I was starting to see it wasn't going to happen."

"I did love you," she insisted, brows pinching. "I do love you."

"You know what I mean," I insisted. "And it wasn't looking like things were going that way. And I told myself that if you didn't seem like you were on the same page as me by the end of the Twelve Days of Christmas, that I was giving it up."

"Giving me up."

"No, yes, but no. I was just going to give up on anything more than friends with you."

"You put a clock on your feelings?"

"I'm not an idiot, Dea," I said, shaking my head. "I knew there was no running out of my feelings for you. But I was sure that, given some time and distance, it wouldn't hurt so much to be in love with someone who doesn't love me back. Or, at least, I hoped that would be true."

"You should have talked to me about it," she insisted.

A small chuckle moved through me at that. "I know you. I know you wouldn't have ever let yourself go there unless I showed you it was a possibility. You value our friendship too much."

"Well, yeah. It's important to me. You're important to me. And, I don't know, maybe you're right. We both know I'm not great at the whole relationship thing."

"Because you've never had the right man."

"You're the right man."

It wasn't exactly a question, but I answered anyway. "Yes. I am absolutely the right man."

"And back to my point, if you maybe gave me twenty minutes to process the fact that my best friend has had feelings for me from almost the beginning, I would have come to the same conclusion."

"Yeah?" I asked, trying squash down the tidal wave of hope, still needing more from her. "You're not saying that because you're afraid of losing me?"