Chapter 11
“You were serious about the Christmas tree,” I blurted, eyeing the massive cardboard box labeled ‘Christmas tree.’
Wyatt ran a hand through his hair, a nervous habit I picked up on. “Um, yeah. But we don’t have to do it.”
I shook my head, knowing the l**t was making me crazy. It had been a while since I’d had s*x. Avoiding it for another night, or month, or year, was no big deal for me. “This is on your list, right?”
He nodded. “How about I start a fire and make us some boozy s’mores hot chocolate?”
“Sure,” I said, dreading opening the boxes on the floor. Christmas ornaments. Memories. The past. I couldn’t avoid my own if I was going to be faced with his.
Wyatt loaded logs into the fireplace on the back wall, surprising me.
“You have a wood-burning fireplace?”
He nodded.
