5. Trevor

5

TREVOR

Visiting the Christmas market with the Hawthorn family isn’t as fun as it was when we first started the tradition. When it was just us guys, we’d get drunk on German beer and eat more Wiener schnitzel than we knew what to do with.

Now, it’s just a night of glorified babysitting.

Don’t get me wrong, there’s something about seeing the market through the eyes of a child that is fun and exciting, but all that stops once someone needs a bathroom and the porta potties are all the way at the other end of the market.

I’m more of a glorified chaperone than anything, and that’s just fine. It’s one night.

Still, that doesn’t mean I don’t keep checking my watch to see if I can get away with sneaking away yet.

Hayden, Jarred and June’s son, cries out for my attention. “Uncle Trevor, lift me up!”

“You’re getting too big for up ,” I say playfully, then lift Hayden up so he can get a view of the snow globes on display.

“Whoa…” His eyes go wide. He starts to reach for one.

“Uh, uh, uh. You break, you buy, kid.” I yank him back. “Tell me the one you want to look at and I’ll help you.”

Hayden points to the snow globe that is Santa’s workshop complete with reindeer, elves, and Mrs. Claus.

“All right, good choice.” I grab it and hold it out to him. “Help me give it a big shake.”

Together, we shake the snow globe, Hayden a bit more enthusiastic than is probably necessary.

I hold it up for him to witness the magic. “Woo, look at that, blizzard!”

Hayden beams. “Cool…”

A laugh pulls my attention away from the snow globe and Hayden. Down the row of snow globes, Iris stands with Rowan and Rose, doing the same thing as Hayden and me.

I gulp down a swell of emotion.

I hate this. Hate that being around Iris has made me all confused over how I’m feeling.

I know I don’t want her in my life. She betrayed our relationship, betrayed me .

I thought I’d gotten used to betrayal, but then the love of my life did it, and it was devastation.

However, while my brain knows she’s not good for me, my heart and my body ache for her.

Just two nights ago at Oliver and Rowan’s I had her in my arms, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t awaken my body the way it always used to.

Iris glances my way, probably feeling my eyes on her.

I look away in a hurry. Not subtle at all.

Jarred arrives on my other side. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you.”

“Dad!” The four-year-old grins.

“We’re gonna head home, little buddy.” Jarred turns to me. “Thanks for keeping an eye on him.”

Hayden pouts. “But I’m not ready to go!”

I place the snow globe back in the display. “This is above my paygrade.”

Jarred laughs, patting me on the shoulder. “Yeah, I’ve got this, don’t worry about it.”

He takes Hayden from me and starts talking Hayden down from a tantrum of overexcitement and exhaustion.

I step away, looking around hurriedly for something to keep me at least looking busy. Which is when I see Iris again, except now she’s alone, another booth down, looking at Christmas ornaments.

Against my better judgment, I go over to her. “Rowan and Rose abandon you?”

Iris looks up at me.

Tonight, she’s fully made up with glittery eyeshadow and ruby red lips. Very much in the Christmas spirit. “Diaper change.”

“Always a diaper change with that one.”

“It’s almost like she hasn’t learned how to use a toilet yet.”

I chuckle. “Finding anything good?”

“No, just…looking.”

“Oh, come on, I know you better than that.” The second it’s out, I regret it. I push through, not wanting to make a big deal of it. “You always need a souvenir.”

Iris rolls her eyes, but her smile is obvious. “Okay, true. I was thinking of getting one of these just to commemorate the year.”

I glance at the ornament she’s been admiring. It’s entirely gold in color, made out of finely cut metal. It’s the Chicago skyline surrounding a fluffy Christmas tree in the middle. “Much more subtle than you usually go for.”

“Yes, well, I’m not sure this is going to be a banner holiday for me, so…”

I swallow.

I get what she’s saying. How are we supposed to enjoy this Christmas when we’re dancing around each other, spending our first Christmas apart when we were supposed to be married?

I catch eyes with the woman running the booth and flag her down, grabbing my wallet from my pocket. “Yes, one of these, please.”

“Trevor–”

But I ignore her, paying for the ornament and sharing some friendly conversation with the woman before she wraps up the ornament in some fine tissue and hands it back over.

Alone again, I hand the ornament to Iris. “Don’t say I never did anything nice for you.”

She smiles, but not in a humored way.

As she takes the tiny package, her leather gloved fingers brush mine. “Thank you. That was…you didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s Christmas.”

Iris puts the ornament in her purse. The same purse she’s always carrying, old worn leather that looks like it’s been through a world war. “Should we walk?”

I nod. “Sure.”

So, we start to walk. Quiet. Side by side.

The market is crowded, which means we can’t put much distance between us as we walk. Just a year ago, we walked arm in arm. We would have won cutest couple at the Christmas Market. Not that it’s a competition.

“Look, Trevor, I’m sorry I’m here.”

I keep my eyes straight ahead. “It’s fine. I was…I was unkind. You deserve to be with your loved ones as much as I do this Christmas.”

“I was supposed to go home to Texas.”

“Well, I know that would have been less than pleasant.”

Iris’s family is extremely religious and conservative. Their colorful-haired, videogame-designing daughter definitely falls outside of that purview.

“I don’t blame you for changing your mind.”

Iris sighs. “I didn’t.”

I frown.

“I mean, technically I did, but Oliver and Rowan worked hard to convince me.”

I struggle to reply to that. “They told me you–”

“Yeah, I’m sure they did.” She sighs. “I think they thought if we were around each other again they could…make something happen. You know?”

My stomach twists and emotions swirl inside me.

There’s a bit of anger, a bit of anxiety, some leftover confusion. And yet above all of those feelings, there is…something like happiness.

I don’t know why or where that comes from, but it’s there. “Oh, god, they’re romcomming us.”

Iris laughs. “Exactly, which explains why Red just ‘forgot’ you were coming over the other night.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah. So, I’m sorry, if I had known that was the goal, I wouldn’t have come.”

I can’t believe I’m sad to hear that. “Yeah, they were super adamant it was your idea.”

“Of course, they were.” Iris smiles at me. “They just want us to be happy.”

“Yeah. They mean well.” I smile back.

We find ourselves at a crossroads with options to keep going forward or to go left or right.

Iris shoves her hands in her pockets. “We should probably find the rest of them.”

“Yeah.” I glance over toward one of the booths where they’re selling pretzels as big as my head. “You want a pretzel first?”

Iris’s attention snaps in the direction of the Bavarian delicacy. “Oh, my favorite!”

I grin. “Come on. My treat.”

“Who would have thought,” Iris says as we walk, “That we would have had pretzels not once, but twice during my visit.”

We pop into the queue a few people deep. “Trust me, I would have thought when hell freezes over.”

“Well, it is pretty damn cold.” Iris pushes her face down into the collar of her coat.

A minute passes as we wait, the chill in the air strengthening. I…can’t believe myself, but I am compelled to put an arm around her and pull her close. Keep her warm.

“Thank you.” She chatters up against me.

“Rowan would kill me if you froze to death.”

She laughs into my chest and oh , the vibrations shoot through my ribs and down to my belly and then my…

I push away the feeling of arousal.

Of course, she still turns me on. She was my wife-to-be at one point. Those feelings won’t just go away.

But then Iris encircles my waist with her arms, pulling me even closer.

What’s happening?

I pull her closer too.

God, I need her close. Not because I’m some horny jerk, but because…I haven’t touched her since before we broke up. Not like this. There have been so many nights I have wished I could hold her in my arms one last time, have her squeeze me tight the way she used to. Feel the love we had.

We make it to the front of the line, wound around each other.

“What can I get for you?” The cheery, round cheeked woman smiles.

I look down at Iris. “You want your own, or should we split one?”

She smiles back. “We can split one.”

“Okay, one pretzel, please.”

Once we get our pretzel, we head over to the condiment station and start arguing over the types of mustards they’re serving. Brown mustard, yellow, German, Dijon.

“I need a little of each,” Iris says. “I just want to try them.”

“We don’t have room on the plate for all of them.”

“Yes, we do, just a little pump of each one and–”

Suddenly, from above, a sprig of greenery appears between us.

“What the–”

It’s a bunch of mistletoe on a fishing line attached to a pole held by a gangly man dressed in lederhosen. “The mistletoe has chosen you!”

“Oh, no, we’re not–” Iris tries to explain.

I rub my chest, trying to calm my throbbing heart. “Yeah, we’re just friends. We can’t–”

‘Friends’ is putting it kindly. We’re more like enemies than anything. Except to the outside eye, I’m sure it looks friendly.

I bought her a gift, kept her warm from the cold, now we’re bickering like a married couple over mustards.

“Friends to lovers! The best kind of all!” The man smiles nonplussed by our rejection.

Oh god .

“Come now, give her a kiss!”

That’s when I realize we have an audience. A bunch of strangers are looking on, waiting for us to fulfill the Christmas promise of a kiss under the mistletoe.

“Is mistletoe even a German tradition?” Iris gives a nervous laugh.

“Kiss her! Kiss her!” people start chanting.

I could die from mortification. “Okay, fine, let’s just–”

Iris’s eyes widen. “You don’t have to do this, Trevor.”

“Can I kiss you to shut them up?” I’m not going to force her to do it, but it would certainly help this awful situation.

Iris glances around, then nods. “Fine. Just do it.”

Let’s get this over with .

I touch her cheek.

This will be the last one. Officially.

An annoying voice inside me says, “Make it count.”

Or maybe that’s the lederhosen guy.

I press my lips to hers in a chaste kiss. Long enough to appease the crowd and short enough to not make a thing out of it.

Who am I kidding, though? The second my lips are on hers, all the memories flood back at once. All the kisses. Small ones. Grand ones. Perfect ones. Messy ones. All the kisses we’ve ever shared collide in my brain.

It doesn’t matter if the kiss is only three Mississippis long. It smashes through the hate I’ve had for her all this time, and I remember just how much I love her.

Not loved.

Love .

Dammit, I love this woman. She was supposed to be my forever. You don’t just forget that, don’t just get over that.

And at the same time, I still hate her. Hate what she did to me. To us. Hate that my life looks so different than I thought it was going to this time last year.

We’re supposed to be married. Now . We were supposed to belong to each other.

When I pull away, I watch Iris’s eyes blink open, stormy gray and glimmering with wonder. Her lips part. And I just know she’s felt it too.

I drop the plate holding the pretzel and pull her into me again, kissing harder, deeper, longer.

The crowd around us explodes with excitement.

Iris’s hands grip the front of my jacket, pulling me flush to her.

Her tongue slips into my mouth and fuck , there’s no going back now.

The rest of the world almost completely drifts away. Almost.

“Just friends, eh?” lederhosen guy asks.

I tear my mouth from Iris and give him a look. “Do you mind?”

The man grins before moving onto his next victims. “Merry Christmas!”

Iris doesn’t let go with me now that we’re more alone. “Trevor–”

“I’m sorry, I let the moment get away from me. I shouldn’t have–”

“Do you want to come back to my hotel with me?”

I stare at her.

But what shocks me even more than her invitation is what I say next.

“Yes. Absolutely.”