12 Dates of Christmas

Chapter 24 - Jennie

"Do you miss her?" Milo asks as we put up decorations around the house.

I nod, not looking at him. "Of course I do. Why are you suddenly so interested on my sister?"

He shrugs. "I'm just curious, is all."

"Well, I haven't seen her eight years. There isn't much for me to tell you."

"I know. You don't have to say anything."

I hold up a mistletoe to put it on the front porch. It's meant for Elena and Wes. And anyone who feels the need to make out on my front porch.

"You planning on having a make out session or something?"

I roll my eyes. "Of course not. It's for Elena. She's always wanted to do this."

He nods. "Alright then."

We stay silent for a moment. "What?" I finally ask.

He doesn't meet my eyes. "When's your date tonight?"

"Six," I say, successfully hanging the mistletoe up in the ceiling. "He said he'd come early for dinner with Wes and Elena."

"Is that the only way you got her to let you still go out?"

As depressing as it sounds, yes. Elena said she'd have to meet him before I went out with him. I messaged him last night and he agreed to just have our date at home.

I was about to let him know that I could go out if I wanted and that I didn't need Elena's approval when he suddenly stands right in front of me. His eyes stare into mine with such intensity that I suddenly feel as if we're the only people in the world. His hair wasn't parted, just sent tousling in different directions. His shirt fit him perfectly, showing just the right amount of I hadn't realized his hands were at my waist until I he started speaking.

"What are you thinking?" he asks quietly.

"That I'm really glad I put up the mistletoe," I whisper before crushing my lips against his. It was intense and passionate and so full of desire and love. His hands stayed at my waist and mine stayed glued to his neck, not willing to go any farther.

I didn't know we were moving until I heard the door slam behind us and we head to the living room. Seconds later, I was on the couch and Milo was hovering over me. Our lips never parted. He went to deepen the kiss and I let him, brushing my hands through his hair. I love kissing him. I love his hands at my waist every time he wants to look me in the eye. I love him.

I gasp into his lips. I did not just think that.

No. I don't love him.

I can't.

After a few minutes, I push him away. "Milo, stop," I say breathlessly. "We need to stop."

He immediately pushes himself off the couch as if I'm burning. "I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have---"

I tune him out, trying to collect my thoughts. "No," I say, cutting him off and starting to stand. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have kissed you."

His eyes settle on me. I fix my ruffled T-shirt and run a hand through my disheveled hair. "Jennie, please don't do this. Why did you kiss me?"

I huff. "Because you were right there. Because we were under the mistletoe. Because I can't stand right in front of you for more than two seconds without wanting to kiss you."

"What?"

I shut my eyes, tightly pressing the palms of my hand against them. "I don't know."