Chapter Twelve

Holly

S hopping for Christmas presents is hands down my favorite thing ever.

There’s just something so special about searching for the perfect gift for someone, to know that they’ll feel cared about and thought of. There’s nothing like it. And it’s why I’m struggling down the crowded street with too many shopping bags hanging off every possible limb, barely able to see where I’m going.

Totally worth it, though.

The cold air nips at my cheeks as I make my way through the crowds, trying to avoid bumping into anyone or slipping on the patches of ice that seem to be everywhere. I can’t stop the memory of Christmas mornings with my parents. Back then, I’d wake up to a living room filled with gifts, and it felt like pure magic.

After they passed, those moments stopped existing, but I try my hardest to keep the magic alive. Every single present I received in one of my foster homes, I’ve kept tucked away in a box under my bed. It’s not always the best reminder, but it’s a token of my past. It’s a part of me .

I yelp when my phone rings, jolting me out of my thoughts, and I try to juggle the bags, nearly losing my balance as I dig around in my purse. After what feels like an eternity, I manage to grab my phone and bring it to my ear.

“Hello?” I answer, a little out of breath.

“Where the hell are you?” Olivia’s voice comes through. “And why do you sound like you’ve just been mobbed?”

“I’m present shopping,” I reply, trying to balance the bags on my arms when one of them attempts to slip.

“Alone?” she says, her voice raising ten million octaves. I wince when her voice practically deafens me. “Oh, great. Henry, she’s gone shopping alone.” I can practically see her frantically moving back and forth. “Are you out of your mind? With the way you shop, I wouldn’t be surprised if you end up falling and breaking a hip.”

I let out a scoff. “I’m twenty-four, not eighty,” I tell her, rolling my eyes even though she can’t see me. “How would I break a hip?”

“By carrying your body weight in presents and slipping on the ice, obviously,” she says as if it’s the most logical thing in the world.

“You’re so dramatic. That won’t happen,” I assure her, sidestepping a particular sketchy-looking patch of ice. “Is there a reason why you called or did you just want to scold me?”

“I wanted to know if you’re staying home tonight,” she says. “I’m cooking and I wasn’t sure if you’d want some or if you have any plans elsewhere. ”

The reminder of last week when I spent the day watching movies with Mark and baking cookies comes to mind. I kind of want to go to his place again, but I also don’t want to invade his personal space and have him annoyed by me.

“Yep, I have no plans,” I tell her. “I’m heading home after this. I’m exhausted and I need a bubble bath and a big plate of your lasagna.”

“I was actually going to make a salad, but lasagna sounds so much better. Oooh, I can try out my new garlic bread recipe, too.”

My stomach starts to growl. “Don’t tempt me. I have another fifteen gifts to check off my list.”

She lets out a laugh. “Okay, I’ll let you go. Don’t forget to bring wine.”

“Wait, how am I going to carry—”

She hangs up before I can finish, and I quickly shove my phone back into my purse. I’ll find a way. She probably thinks I won’t find a way to carry all of these bags, and that I’ll be stupid enough to slip on some—

“Ahhh!” I let out a yelp as my feet slide out from under me and I go down, bags flying in every direction.

“Woah,” I hear someone say when I feel a hand grab my arm. “Are you okay?”

I let out a heavy breath, wanting the ground to swallow me up. “I’m definitely not going to tell her this happened,” I mumble to myself.

“You’re not telling who?”

I lift my head, glancing up at the guy crouching down next to me, concern written all over his face as his hand is still wrapped around my arm .

The corner of his lips lift a little. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so,” I say, a little flustered. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” he says, bending down to pick up my fallen bags. “Looks like you’re carrying half the store with you.”

I let out a laugh as I try to help him gather the bags. “It’s a bit much, I know. But I just couldn’t help myself. I love gift shopping.”

He grins, handing me the bags he’s picked up. “I get it. Shopping for presents is kind of addictive.”

“It is,” I agree, taking the bags from him. “But it’s probably a sign I should call it a day before I actually break a hip.”

He laughs, a warm, genuine sound that makes me smile. “That might be wise. I’m Ryan, by the way.”

“Holly,” I reply, finally meeting his gaze, seeing his brown eyes soften as he smiles. The subtle lines around his eyes let me know he’s a little older than me. That, and his designer business attire.

“Nice to meet you, Holly,” he says, still holding onto one of my bags.

I glance at the bag, then back at him. “You’re not planning to run off with that, are you?”

He chuckles, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Nope, just trying to help.”

“Well, I appreciate it,” I say, taking the last bag from him. “I’d shake your hand, but…” I gesture to the mountain of presents I’m holding.

“How about your number instead?” he asks, tilting his head .

I blink, caught off guard. “Huh?”

“Your number,” he repeats, still smiling. “I hope I don’t scare you away, since we only just met, but it’s not every day I bump into someone as beautiful as you.”

“You want my number?” I ask, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks at him calling me beautiful.

“I mean…” He shrugs. “As much as I’d wish fate would intervene and I could telepathically communicate with you, I’m thinking a text would be better,” he says with a teasing smile.

I can’t help but smile at his playful attitude. “You’re smooth, aren’t you?”

“Only when I’m trying really hard,” he admits with a wink. “So, what do you say? Can I get your number? I’d love to take you out sometime.”

I hesitate for a moment, thinking about my last date and how awkward it was. But there’s something about Ryan. Something that intrigues me. I glance back at him, seeing him look at me expectantly.

“Did I bore you?” he teases.

“Yes.” My eyes widen at the realization of what just came out of my mouth. “No, I mean, no!” I say, closing my eyes in frustration. “I’m very bad at this.”

He chuckles softly. “Nah, you’re doing great.”

I take a deep breath. “Let me try this again. No, you didn’t bore me. And yes, I’d love to go out with you.”

“Great,” he replies with a grin. “I just need your number.”

“Right. Of course,” I say, trying to shift the bags so I can reach my phone. But it’s impossible with everything I’m holding.

Ryan notices my struggle and holds out his hand. “Want me to grab it for you?”

I hesitate, then nod. “Sure, but if you run off with my purse, I’m calling the cops.”

He grins, reaching into my purse with exaggerated caution. “I promise I’m not a thief. But I have to say, if I was, you’d never know.”

“Good point,” I say, watching as he pulls out my phone. He quickly taps in his number and places it back in my bag.

“There you go,” he says, handing the phone back with a grin. “The ball is in your corner. Just text me whenever you’re ready. I’ll be waiting,” he says, flashing a smile before walking away.

I keep my eyes on him as he walks away, and a small smile tugs at the corners of my lips. Did that seriously just happen?

But before I can fully wrap my head around it, my phone rings again, dragging me back to reality and I groan glancing down at the million and one bags hanging off my arms.