8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

My happy little heart is racing as I thoroughly wash up the one spoon in the sink. A mix of exhilaration at the prospect of spending more time with Dax and the anxiety of concealing my feelings for him in such close quarters are fighting against each other inside me. I’m still processing the impact of his hand gently gripping mine had on me. It was such a small gesture, but it was the first time anyone had ever caressed my hand in a soothing way aside from Mum. It wasn’t related to anything sexual; it was... nice.

Yes, I’ve had many guys treat me nicely, but only because they wanted to have sex with me. Dax showed genuine concern, not pity. I can’t help but wonder how my life might have been different if he had been around to frighten off my bullies. Could Dax’s presence have prevented my self-loathing and kept my dark thoughts at bay? Maybe. Probably not. But like my therapist said, ‘Each moment in life paves the way for the next chapter. Confront your fears head-on, and you might be pleasantly surprised by the person you become.’

Dax being snowed in here for at least tonight is a sign for me to say fuck it . I want him. From the very first time I saw Dax walk through those doors that night, I’ve been attracted to him. It would be a missed opportunity not to find out if he feels the same way.

It’s brat-unleashing time.

Turning round, Dax has taken off his coat and boots, and he almost looks like a deer caught in the headlights, standing there with his hands in his jeans pockets, looking a little unsure. Oh, my sweet Dax, you have no idea.

“So,” I say, walking towards him. “Seeing as you’re staying, let’s decorate the tree before we have a death on our hands.” I bite my lip for effect.

He rubs his hands down his jeans like maybe he has sweaty palms. I hope he does. Do I make him nervous? I hope I do. “Yeah, okay, we could do that,” he replies.

“Great, let me just get my balls out.” A choking sound comes from Dax. “Oops, I mean my baubles. You didn’t think I meant these balls, did you?” I say, cupping mine. His eyes go wide. I’m sure I hear a muffled ‘ Jesus ’ as he walks over to the tree. Tris 1, Dax 0.

After going into the bedroom and grabbing the bag with all the different-coloured baubles I picked up from the market, I head back into the living room to find Dax on all fours in front of the tree. He’s placing big rocks inside the green bucket he brought inside. It’s the second time today he’s been in that position, and I’m not mad about it. To be frank, I could comfortably sit on the arm of the sofa and indulge in thoughts of all the explicit things I would be willing to let him do to me. “Do you need any help?” I ask, coming to stand next to him.

“Imnrlydone.”

“What was that?” I chuckle.

Sitting back on his calves, he looks up at me. “It’s okay. I’m done. She’s sturdy.” He nods towards the tree.

Raising my eyebrows, I muse, “She? You mean him.”

He looks at the tree, then back at me with one sexy-as-hell raised eyebrow. “Him?”

“Yeah, Mr Spruce. He’ll be handsome once we’ve finished decorating him. C’mon, let’s get started. I think some Christmas songs are needed to get us into the spirit of things.” I hit Play on my phone and put it on the small side table next to the sofa. ‘ Snowman ’ by Sia starts to play. Dax is my very own snowman and I’m gonna thaw him up with all my love bombing.

Going straight in with the important question, I say, “So, Dax, do you have a partner?” Picking up the emerald-green bauble, I pretend to inspect it, so I don’t need to make eye contact with him. I need to know if he’s off-limits or not. I’m no home-wrecker.

“Excuse me?” he croaks.

“You know, a partner? Boyfriend? Fiancé?”

With a sigh, he shakes his head and reaches down to pick up a string of lights. “If you must know,” he says, his eyes meeting mine as he turns to face me. “The answer is no. No partner. Relationships are not my thing.” Turning towards the tree again, he starts to wrap the lights around its branches.

Noted. I’ll have to work harder than I thought. “Who pissed in your cornflakes to make you not want to have a relationship?”

His laughter fills the room, bright and warm, like sunbeams. “I can see why Jake loves you.”

Knock me over with a feather, won’t you? The beauty of this man is undeniable, from his handsome face to his charming smile. I want him so badly . Santa, if you could do me a solid and give me Dax, I promise I’ll continue being a good boy.

If I’m not careful, I’ll be in a situation where I have to change my shorts. Since I don’t wear underwear, there’s a high chance that if I get a hard-on and blow my load, Dax will definitely notice. I would rather he be a participant than a spectator. “Yeah? Why’s that?” I ask.

Balancing on his tiptoes, he reaches up to secure the last of the lights at the top of the tree. My eyes are fixed on him as his shirt slowly exposes the smooth skin on the side of his body, leaving me practically drooling. Fuck, I’m getting hard. Down boy . I try to stop my erection in its tracks by pushing on the front of my shorts.

“Your fun nature makes you a joy to be around. You have a straightforward approach, yet there is a gentle sweetness that radiates from you. Not to mention, you’re kind-hearted. You’re a good person, Tris.”

Tris. I love the way he sometimes slips up and accidentally calls me by that nickname. And his words make me want to cry happy tears. Despite only spending a few hours together, he has already picked up on these aspects of my personality. It has taken me a considerable amount of time to come to the realisation that I am inherently good, despite the negative self-image my mind often projects.

How did I go from being on the brink of orgasm to feeling a strong urge to cry? Talk about a rollercoaster of emotions.

Once Dax finishes with the lights, we decorate the tree with the balls. No matter how hard I try, I can’t stretch my arms high enough to reach the upper branches. To overcome the disadvantages of being five-foot-six, Dax fetches a small step stool from the laundry room. My hero .

With a sense of nostalgia, I place the last ball, a bright purple one, near the top of the tree, honouring my mum’s favourite colour in the absence of an angel. Just as I step back to admire my work, I lose my balance. “Shit,” I blurt.

Just as I try to steady myself, strong hands wrap around my waist, keeping me upright. We’re back to being skin-to-skin, and my body immediately starts buzzing.

“Careful.” The whisper of his words tickles my ear, sending goosebumps down my spine.

As I lean against Dax, I can’t help but be warmed by the heat emanating from his hands and body, kindling a small flame of contentment within me. Determined to do whatever it takes to keep the flame burning, I take a gradual step down to ensure Dax continues to hold on to me. I don’t want him to let me go just yet.

“So,” he says, taking a moment to clear his throat before continuing. “How about you? Any partner? Boyfriend? Fiancé?”

Glancing over my shoulder at him, I shake my head. “No. Not yet. Still waiting for my special someone,” I bat my eyelashes. Dax releases his grip on me and takes a step back. Despite feeling the loss of him, I can’t help but be pleased with how the tree turned out, even with the lights not switched on yet.

“Yeah? What does ‘ special someone ’ entail?” He frowns adorably.

My gaze lingers on the tree. “Oh, you know, the usual things. Someone who sees all my flaws and loves me, anyway.”

I glance over at Dax, standing beside me now, his feet shuffling restlessly and his forehead etched with frown lines. Did I manage to make him feel uncomfortable again? I reach out and touch his arm. “You all right? You’re not stroking on me, are you? Cos I’ll happily give you CPR.”

Lifting his head to look at me, he chuckles, “I’m good. Let’s get these lights turned on.”

My hand falls from his arm as he walks over to the switch on the wall. Whatever he was thinking about has dispersed.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Wait!” I shout, rushing over to my phone. “We need the right song.” The smooth notes of ‘ Christmas Tree ’ sung by Teddy Swims sets the tone. “Okay ready. Light up Mr Spruce.”

The warm white lights glow softly. The tree stands tall against the cabin wall, its branches adorned with a beautiful assortment of coloured balls, creating a truly perfect sight.

As we both gaze at our handiwork, Dax stands beside me, a satisfied smile on his face. “Well, isn’t that something? Mr Spruce really is a handsome tree.”

Fuck. My heart is bursting. He really loves our tree. Our tree. Armed with my phone, I take a few photos, making it a point to capture some candid shots of us together. Not gonna lie; the picture of Dax standing by the tree is going to be my bedtime buddy tonight.