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13. All I Want for Christmas

13

ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS

ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU, GLEE CAST

Livie

Hailey: I need a picture. I’m so mad I had to work tonight and I don’t get to see your hot-ass-self waiting for your dream man. I’m so jealous. Does he have any single friends?

Me: From what I gathered the other day, no. One is in a complicated relationship with his ex, another one has been hooking up with the same girl for years, and the other one has been married to his high school sweetheart all his life.

Hailey: Boo! Ok then. Well still, I need a pic.

I stand in front of the mirror and snap a picture of myself. I’m wearing an emerald green gown, completely fitted to my body. It has long sleeves covering my arms, and a deep V showing all the cleavage. It also has the perfect slit over my left thigh up to my hip. It’s stunning and I knew I needed it the moment I first saw it. It has been hanging in my closet for years, waiting for the perfect occasion. What better occasion than being invited to the Gala for The Hubbard House?

The Hubbard House is a local shelter and foundation for victims of domestic violence. They have a full-service support hotline to help women and children escaping their abuser. My hospital works hand in hand with them, especially the trauma department where Hailey works. Their biggest fundraiser of the year is this Christmas gala. I’ve always wanted to go, especially because a lot of previous victims speak up about their journey and how everyone can help, even if it’s not in a monetary way. I’ve never been able to attend because the tables are by invite only, and even then you have to pay thousands of dollars for the fee. So, when Alex said he was invited and that he’s also been wanting to go for a while, I crossed my fingers and hoped he would ask me to go. Turns out, I didn’t have to hope very hard because he wanted be his date. He was worried I was going to say no due to the short notice and needing a formal gown. Good thing I’m always prepared for a party.

Hailey: God, you look stunning. Such a shame I like dick so much because you’re a damn smoke show, Livie.

Me: Thanks babe! I feel like a queen

Hailey: As you should. Have so much fun and take pictures. Also, I would love to see a picture of your man, too

Me: Not my man, remember? In three days, this whole arrangement is over and we’re both going our merry ways.

Hailey: Not even a priest at confessional would believe that, Livie. Have you seen the way he looks at you? I gotta go. Please send me pics

Hailey: Love you

Have you seen the way he looks at you? Yes, I fucking have and it doesn’t make me feel any better. All I do is think over and over again about how we have this dumb arrangement and I couldn’t keep my end of it. At no point did we talk about feelings. Because what were the odds that we would fall in love with each other in less than two weeks? If I’m being honest with myself, I don’t know if I can call this love, but what is this feeling if I can’t? Because when Alex looks at me, it’s like my soul is on fire. And the only choice I have is to let it burn. When I spend time with him it’s like every cell in my body is made of happiness, giddiness, and lust. When I’m with him, it’s like I can barely even breathe unless I’m touching him. Unless I am kissing him. This isn’t healthy, I know, but what am I supposed to do?

I grab my favorite lipstick from the countertop, a shade of maroon that makes me eyes look chestnut brown and my cheeks glow. It’s matte and kissable, my favorite kind. It won’t move from my lips no matter what I do and I kind of like that.

The doorbell rings, so I grab my black clutch and walk to the door to let Alex in. My hands are sweaty and my steps falter at the thought of seeing how he’ll look in a suit and tie. He’s so damn handsome. No matter what he wears, he looks edible. But there’s just something about men in formal attire that gets me every time.

I open the door and I wish I could see my own face because, oh, how wrong I was. If I thought picturing Alex in a suit and tie was hot, this scene in front of me is even more. Alex is standing in my front door in a navy blue bespoke tuxedo. The fabric is perfectly molded to every inch of his hard body, and the damn bowtie framing his neck is making me squirm. But that’s not what stops me dead in my tracks. Alex’s beautiful hazel eyes sparkle, freezing me in place. And to top it off, I notice he’s holding a bouquet of beautiful roses when he flashes me his million-dollar smile.

“If I knew I was going to get that reaction out of you, I would’ve shaved a lot sooner,” he jokes and I’m at a loss for words. I feel so freaking shallow it’s unreal, but how is he God’s favorite in every sense of the word? When God was giving away gifts, he must have run to the front of the line. Pretty eyes? First in line. Good height and body? First in line. A good sense of humor? First in line. Good in bed? First in line. A good listener? Agh! Everything. He was first in line for everything. I can’t believe he’s been single this long.

“Hi,” I say, taking the flowers from his hand. “These are beautiful, thank you.”

“Those aren’t for you, though,” he jokes.

“Oh, so funny,” I laugh sarcastically. “Come on in, let me put these in water real quick.”

After I get a vase from under the kitchen sink and add the flowers to it, I turn my body to look at Alex. I find his eyes on me with a giant smile on his face.

“Hi,” I repeat.

“You said that already,” he replies.

“I forgot words apparently.”

Alex chuckles and grabs my hand, bringing it to his mouth and kissing it softly. “You look stunning, by the way. If I wasn’t still standing and talking to you, I would think my heart stopped when you opened the door.”

I’m sure I blush, because his intense stare is still on me and I’m having way too many feelings. I don’t know how I’m going to hold them back all night, or on Christmas Eve for that matter, because all I want to do is burst out with, I think I’m falling in love with you and it’s crazy, but it’s true . I don’t say that, though; all I do is tuck a piece of my wavy hair behind my ear and reply, “Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

“Come on, Liv. Let’s get to this gala so I can show you off.”

I wrap my arm around his, and together we walk out of my house and to his truck. I usually don’t expect gifts on Christmas Day, but I find myself closing my eyes and wishing for one this year. Like that freaking hit song—all I want for Christmas is him.

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