No Kissing Allowed (No Kissing Allowed #1)(52)

Once inside, I slipped out of my clothes and draped them across the vanity chair. I thought of putting on a nightgown, but stopped at my reflection in the mirror, at my red lace bra and matching red thong. I pulled my hair out of my ponytail and let it flow down over my shoulders, then walked through our adjoining bathroom and knocked quietly on his door so as not to alert the parents below.

Aidan opened the door and stepped back, his eyes drinking me in, warming my body.

“Merry Christmas,” I said.

“I’ll say.”

My nipples hardened as he focused on my breasts, and I edged closer to him, ready to feel him over me. He hadn’t undressed at all, and was still wearing his dress slacks and pressed collared shirt. I slowly undid each button until his shirt fell off him, then ran my hands down the front of his pants, stopping at the evidence of his need. I unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants, then walked him back to the bed. He lifted me up so I straddled his waist.

“You are so unbelievably beautiful,” he said, and then there was no more talking. He lips crushed against mine, and he laid me back against the bed, our bodies connecting. I longed to tell him that I loved him, but the words caught in my throat. Admitting out loud how much I cared made it real. And it made the possibility of him pulling back real. He might not be ready to hear those words, and then what? For now, I tugged him back to me, allowing my body to show him what I was too afraid to say. Saving the words for a safer time.





Chapter Twenty-Seven


Mom and I spent most of the morning prepping for Christmas Eve dinner. When I was younger, we would go to my grandmother’s house on Christmas Eve and take turns opening presents around her tree. Once she passed away, my mom took over the family meal, and so for years now, our house has become home to more and more people on Christmas Eve, some family, others friends who had no family of their own to celebrate with. Much like Aidan. All in all, we had four eight-person tables decorated throughout the house.

Mom slipped outside to clip more greenery, and Aidan came up behind me, wrapping his arms tightly around me. “This is a good look on you,” he said, tapping my apron.

“You think so?” I turned in his arms and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, planning to separate before Mom returned, when she spoke from the back door.

“I see one couple that’ll make use of my mistletoe. Now, Aidan, Eric is going into town to pick up a few last-minute things. Do you think you could help him?”

“Of course.” He kissed my temple before disappearing out the front door in search of Eric.

Mom resumed her place beside me chopping vegetables, a silent smile on her face.

“What?” I asked, unable to stay quiet any longer.

She set down her knife and turned to me. “I have watched you for years now, Cammie. I’ve watched boys come and go. Friends come and go. I’ve seen you at your highest highs, like when you were accepted at NYU. And your lowest lows, like when your father died.” She cleared her throat. “Through all of that, I’ve waited to see you happy again. Truly happy. And not once have I felt you were. Not even with Blaine. Lord knows, we’ve tried, but nothing has sparked a smile like the one you wear whenever Aidan’s around. I’m thankful for him. I’m thankful to see you happy again.”

“Mom.”

“Look, Cameron. I know you and I haven’t always seen eye to eye. Your father’s death…” She trailed off, her eyes brimming with tears. I had never once seen my mother cry over Dad’s death, beyond at the funeral itself. “I have tried so hard to help you get over it, when maybe the right thing was to help you through it. I guess I’ve always been jealous of your dad.”

“Why?”

She cleared her throat again and dabbed the corners of her eyes with a paper towel. “Because you love him so purely. As selfish as it sounds, I wanted a bit of that love.”

Guilt punctured my heart like a knife. “Mom…I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t love you. Of course I love you.” I pulled her into a hug. “I just…I don’t know, but I’m sorry.”

Mom waved me off and smiled. “Under the rug. Let’s forget about it. It’s Christmas.”

I smiled back. “It’s Christmas.”

…

Guests began arriving at five that night, and before long, the house was full of people of all ages. Children ran around the rooms, chasing each other. Adults enjoyed drinks and mingled. All while Mom swept from room to room, checking that glasses were full and people were happy.

I introduced Aidan to everyone who hadn’t already met him, and beyond a painful conversation with Uncle Buck about all the reasons why the Democrats were ruining America, they had all been nice.

Then my cousins arrived, and though they had been good on Thanksgiving, their claws were ready to strike today. Lexie and Anna Beth took no time coming over to us, their eyes roaming over Aidan in ways that would make both their husbands angry.

“So, Aidan,” Anna Beth drawled. “Tell us how you met our sweet Cammie.”

Sweet Cammie? Clearly she was after an Oscar with this performance. Aidan grinned over at me, sensing my unease. I wanted to disappear with him upstairs, to relieve some of my stress. But the house was full of people, and I was too much my mother’s daughter to show such horrible manners, despite the hating cousins drooling over Aidan. And that was when I realized I hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation, and now our audience had grown to include my aunts.