steven
“Merry Christmas!” Sierra beamed at me, her head on the center of my chest and her fingers strumming across my naked abdomen. She was wide awake, which meant that she must’ve been up for at least a while now.
“Morning,” I mumbled, my stomach twisting. “Merry Christmas.”
“I’m so excited for today,” she said, lifting her head off me and resting it on her pillow.
While I had been excited last night, this morning … I didn’t feel good. I had twisted and turned in bed all night until very early this morning and could barely swallow the bile heavy in my throat. All I could think about last night was … how she’d react to my present.
Thornton had said that I deserved to be happy, but did I really? And if I did, what would it even feel like? Would I always fear that it’d be ripped right out from underneath my fingers for the rest of my life? Would I always fear that this was all an act, that Sierra would never truly care for me?
“Do you wanna make hot cocoa with me and open gifts?”
“Sure,” I whispered, wiping the sleep from my eyes.
“Wait!” Sierra exclaimed, jumping up naked and rummaging through her bag. “Before we go out to open gifts …” She tugged out a wrapped box and handed it to me. “Technically, I was supposed to give you this last night, but I fell asleep after your present to me.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed with a thin sheet over my lap, I arched my brow and ripped off the blue wrapping paper to see two pairs of matching red-and-black holiday-themed pajama pants and black shirts.
She hopped onto the bed next to me and grinned. “It was a tradition in my family to dress in the same pajamas on Christmas Eve.” She glanced away and blushed, kicking her legs back and forth. “We don’t have to do it, but …”
“Love,” I murmured, tucking some hair behind her ear, “I’d love to match with you.”
She gazed at me through wide eyes filled with excitement. “Really?”
I slipped out of bed and pulled on the fluffy pants, wishing that I had a tradition to share with her, too, but I had never celebrated the holidays like she had. More nerves bubbled up in my belly. Hopefully, we could do this again next year too.
But maybe she’d be onto bigger and better things, new opportunities, other men.
I winced at the thought. Fuck, that hurt.
Once we made hot cocoa and began opening the small gifts we had gotten each other, I leaned against the couch near the gift I’d boxed yesterday. All week long, I had been looking forward to today, but now that we sat in front of the tree, unwrapping gifts, my stomach gurgled, my muscles were tight, and I was thinking the worst.
The matte-black box that I had placed underneath the tree seemed to glare at me, taunt me. And while it couldn’t talk—because it was an inanimate fucking object—all I could hear was that I wasn’t good enough for her. That she would never see me the way I saw her.
That all of this was somehow a lie.
All the late nights. All the early mornings. Waking up next to her with my nose buried in her hair. Breathing in her shampoo. Seeing her smile. Those lips. The brightness in her eyes. Caring for her in the tub with all the bubbles.
I feared that it was all a lie. Because nobody gave a shit about me.
Ever.
“Here,” Sierra said, grabbing a small box. “This is one of my last gifts to you.”
I grabbed the box from her and unwrapped it, pulling out a gift card to Giant Eagle and arching my brow. “Love, did you buy a gift for yourself?”
“No, of course not!” she said in a fit of giggles. “I bought it so you have an excuse to go grocery shopping with me.”
She had bought this just for me to spend time with her. Fuck.
Her cheeks rounded. “Plus, you haven’t even seen the entire store yet.”
The more time I spent with her, the harder and harder I fell. And the harder the pain would be when she left me once she discovered that I wasn’t really good for her, that there were far better men out there worthy of her time, that I was just some broken man who was both so desperate for love and scared of commitment.
After thanking her, I walked over to the tree. I had two last gifts for her, one near the couch and one behind some of Michelle’s and Hector’s gifts. I stared down at them, my heart pounding so loudly that it deafened me.
My fingers trembled as I leaned down, the terror lodged in my throat, making it harder and harder to breathe. I cursed at myself as I bent at the hip to grab the smaller box, my leg lifting off the ground slightly and kicking the gift with the contract underneath the couch.
Fuck.
The moment I kicked it so she wouldn’t see or ask about it, guilt, sadness, hurt, and even more shame rushed through every fiber of my being. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t even fucking ask her.
I could’ve turned back. I could’ve reached underneath the couch to pick it up.
But my fears had me in a fucking choke hold.
“Here’s one more,” I said, handing her a diamond tennis bracelet that matched her necklace, my words less tense but my body full of anxiety. I stared underneath the couch as she opened her present, feeling so stupid.
She tore off the wrapping paper and opened up the small box, her lips curling into a frown. “Steven, this is too much. I thought we decided on something small and thoughtful.” She paused, drawing her fingers across the diamonds. “But it’s beautiful.”
“I’m glad you like it,” I forced out, unable to look her in the eye.
Why was I such a fuckup when it came to relationships? First, I couldn’t tell her what the damn necklace meant. She’d had to hear it from my own sister. And now, I couldn’t even ask her to be my submissive even though that was what she’d technically been for weeks.
After setting the box on the ground beside her, Sierra hopped up, grabbed my hand, and eyed the red sack of gifts that she had been putting together last night when I picked her up. “I have something else for you, but we have to go somewhere.”
“Where are you taking me?” I asked.
“It’s a surprise.”