Our Totally, Ridiculous, Made-up Christmas Relationship

“Don’t, Julie,” he hisses, using my real name. “I don’t want to do this.”


I’m mortified by his rejection. Pulling his cell phone out of my back pocket, I hand it over to him. “Good Sex called twice. You might want to call her back.” I walk over to my suitcase, unzip it, and look for my pajamas. Christ! Of course the only ones I packed have puppy dogs, penguins, or Santa on them. No surprise Kayden doesn’t want to touch me.

“Really? You’re upset because of some names in my cell phone?” he asks, moving over to me. I keep digging through my suitcase, even though I’ve already found what I need. “You’re upset that I have a lot of sex? I’m sorry. I didn’t know that was part of my job description—letting you know all about my sex life.”

“No, that’s not it. I just don’t see why you can be so screwable for them, but then I ask you for the same thing and it’s a big no.”

“It’s been a long day. You’re sleepy.” I see him sit on the edge of the bed. The way his muscles become even more noticeable when he’s pushes his hands into the side of the bed makes me blush.

“I’m not sleepy. I want some meaningless sex from a guy who seems to be a pro at that task.” When those words leave my mouth, I want to slap myself because I sound like such a raging bitch. His hands dig deeper into the bed before he pushes off of it. He moves over to me and grabs my arm, pulling me into his direction.

“What do you want, Jules? You want meaningless?” His voice is harsh, rough around the edges, and I flinch at his intensity. “How do you want it? Hard? Aggressive? Fast? Deep? You want me to pull your hair, unzip your pants, and slide off your panties without saying your name once? You want to wake up the next morning alone? Feeling hopeless yet again?” His hands wrap around my waist and he tugs my hips toward him. His voice softens and his touch becomes gentler. “Or do you want me to make fake love to every inch of your body? Telling you how I am the luckiest man alive to call you mine? Do you want me to take my time with you? Whispering sweet-everythings into your ear? You want my lips to kiss yours in such a way that makes it hard to tell where yours begin or mine end? Then do you want to fall asleep in my arms and wake up around two a.m. and make fake love with me all over again?”

He steps away from me, leaving my brain foggy, and he slides his hands into his jeans pockets.

“Or do you want me to be Danny? Because I pride myself in being a pretty damn good actor, let me know what role I’ll be playing. The meaningless man-whore, the hopeful and endless lover, or the pathetic ex-boyfriend who used you and left you to become this weak thing before me.”

I’m insulted by his words. He could’ve said no and left it at that, but no—he had to make me feel like a fool. “Fuck you,” I whisper.

“Exactly, sweetheart!” he sings, clapping his hands together. “You just tell me how.”

“Ugh, do you have to be such an asshole?”

“Do you want me to be? Because, clearly, I’m an actor. I’m unattached to feelings, to real emotions.” He gestures toward the closed door, “I’m just like them.”

My feet fidget against the floor. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

I feel terrible, because I am terrible. I’ve managed to disrespect and piss off the one and only ally I have in this place. What’s wrong with me? “I’m—I’m sleepy,” I mutter, filled with my own self-hatred.

He sighs, picks up a pair of sweatpants from his suitcase, and nods. “Me too.” He heads for the bathroom attached to our room and when the door slams, I stomp my feet against the ground.

Idiot!

Changing into my puppy pajamas, I hop into the left side of the bed, covering myself up with blankets, including my head. I hope by the time Kayden re-enters he’ll think I’m sleeping.

I hear the turning of the knob and peek out to see him staring at me.

“I know you’re not asleep in the two minutes I’ve been gone. But I do apologize for the way I spoke to you.” I don’t say a word, and he moves to the right side of the bed before pausing. It’s a big bed, so there’s enough distance between us to make it a little less awkward—but it’s awkward nonetheless. Picking up a few blankets and pillows, he moves over to the large couch that is lying against the wall. Good—sharing a bed would be a little too real for me.

“I’m sorry, too. For being—”

“—Crazy? Twisted? A lunatic?” He lists all of my very blatant characteristics, and I can hear the smile in his voice. I smell the mint scent of his toothpaste and wish I weren’t such a dummy, because I really could use another Kayden kiss.