Tragic

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Pressure

Hunter

I've never been one for holidays. I'm sure it has something to do with the way mine usually went. My father would get drunk, pick a fight with my mother, smack me around a bit, knock over the Christmas tree in a whiskey fueled rage—normal stuff like that.

That's why I was so nervous when Elliot said her parents invited me to Christmas dinner. I've spent holidays with them before, but never under these circumstances. It's hard enough to pretend around everyone else, but now I have to be face-to-face with her family and basically lie to them. It makes me feel like shit considering all they've done for me over the years. There were many nights where I would have needed to sleep in my truck if it wasn't for their generosity.

Oliver seems to think it'll be fine. It's not reassuring considering he feels that way about pretty much everything. His outlook on things is skewed by the privilege he's known his whole life. He doesn't understand how important it is for me to make a good impression on his family. The last thing I want is for them to perceive me as some charity case who can't get his shit together. When we do finally tell them, I don't want them to worry I won't be able to take care of Elliot the way they would want.

I stand in front of the mirror, scrutinizing the outfit Elliot picked out for me earlier. It's no surprise this dinner is somewhat formal, and she wanted to make sure I felt comfortable. To be honest, I'm not sure I'll ever be comfortable in her world—but I'm willing to try.

Heels click on the floors outside my bedroom, and I smile. "I'm almost ready," I call over my shoulder. I rush through securing the dark grey tie over my black button-down when she appears in my doorway. I lose my breath for a moment. When Elliot is actually trying to be sexy, instead of just naturally being that way—she burns you.

She hikes up one stocking covered leg and leans along the door frame. "You like my dress?"

I bite my lip while I admire the short hem of her long-sleeved, lace dress and matching red satin heels. The stockings come just above her knees with a tiny little bow on the side. She looks like a present. My mind races through a dozen scenarios that all involve blowing off dinner.

Then Elliot laughs, and my eyes lock on hers. "Do I look like Christmas?" she whispers.

I take a few steps toward her, and she stands in front of me with that seductive look in her eye. Her hand grips my tie, and I reach for her ass. "You certainly look like something I want to unwrap." I glide my hand up the back of her dress, running my fingers along her bare skin. I lean in and kiss her once. "But I doubt we have time for that."

She smiles and tugs on my tie a little harder, bringing our lips inches apart. "It's going to be awfully hard to keep my hands off of you for an entire dinner." She nips at my bottom lip with her teeth and releases her hold. Her expression changes into something less seductive and more modest. Her hands smooth out the collar of my shirt as she speaks. "I know these aren't the most ideal circumstances, but I'm really happy you're spending the holiday with my family. It feels complete with you here."

I get a swelling in my chest again. It's like she knows how I'm feeling without me needing to say it. That's how connected we are now. For every doubt that creeps into my mind, there's a million little reasons why I shouldn't listen to them. Seeing her smile right now is the biggest one. I'd sacrifice pretty much anything at this point to make her happy.

Turning back to the mirror, I give myself one last look. She's fixing her hair when I turn back to her, and when her eyes meet mine, she smiles again. "What?"

I take a step forward and brush an errant curl from her face. "You know, you do look like Christmas." I gently kiss her cheek and then press my lips below her ear. "My favorite one."