Every December [Soon to be Self Published]

Chapter 12

Lydia

"It's Lydia, right?"

I'm about to freeze my butt off from this metal bench waiting for A.J. I turn my head to find the tall, silver-haired woman staring down at me. Her, again. "Meg?"

"I thought that was you." She glances at the bench. "Your butt must be frozen."

"I'll survive." My thoughts are all rearranged about A.J. and what he's been going through. All those flirtatious comments are a front. He's been battling this alone?

"What are you doing here?" Meg pries. "Aside from freezing to death?"

"Waiting for A.J." I shift my leg. "I couldn't stop eating the cookies you brought over. I inhaled half a dozen. Next time you come over. I'll pay you to bring more."

"I wouldn't accept money." Her gaze travels over the street like she's looking for someone. "I would take A.J.'s, but not yours."

The lights entwined in the rows of trees are attention stealing. I didn't think towns like this existed. 

"My daughter is about your age. She traveled around a bit, then, she got pregnant and came home. Now she's opening a bakery. I was a bit shocked to find you in A.J.'s house." She turns the conversation abruptly.

I am sure there has been a parade of beautiful women through his house. "Why?"

"He doesn't bring anyone there. Aside from me, I don't think anyone has stepped foot into his house since he bought the place."

I wasn't expecting her answer. Surely, he hasn't been entirely alone. Not with that huge bed of his and those steady hands. Or the way his eyes are sometimes full of lust making me want to live on the edge. 

"Are you staying with A.J. for Christmas?"

"Unfortunately, I'm headed home." I've already stretched my welcome.

"He's a grown man missing out on his own life. Makes me so mad."

A.J.'s car approaches the curb and slows, nerves build up and crash low inside me at the way we left things. I had been trying to be supportive, but he doesn't want that.

"Let me help you with those." Meg grabs the bags and walks over to the car. "If you'd taken any longer, she would have been wise to go home with another man."

A.J. reaches across the passenger seat and taking the bags from her, avoiding my gaze.

"You're not far off," I joke with Meg. "My fingers are frozen." If I didn't know better, I'd say Meg is rooting for me. The knitted hat I bought has a large pom-pom at the end that bounces, making me feel about five-years-old as I get into the car and pull the crutches in, accidentally meeting his sharp gaze. It seizes me, the apology in his gaze that quickly disappears, but not before butterflies swarm my chest. I don't want to get out of wherever this is going either.

"She's nosey." His voice is without humor, as I warm my hands against the heater wondering whether I should push the issue. 

The visit to the care facility and meeting his father was so eye-opening about A.J. I haven't stopped thinking about it. I'm afraid if I overstep this sensitive boundary line, he'll shut me out when he needs a friend. How can he live like this? All that hurt spinning around in his heart. I'm a woman crashing at his house and dancing around the subject of making out with him. I'm not exactly a candidate for moral support. "About earlier," I speak up. "I'm sorry you're going through this."

His reaction is quick. A tick in his jaw. A flicker in his eyes though he keeps his gaze directed ahead at the snow-lined streets. My gaze follows his to the fog-topped mountains in the distance, like a painter mixed too much black and white, smearing thick gray all over the sky. I am under the impression A.J. is not going to respond and I drag my gaze back to his hard jaw.