All I Want for Christmas

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All I Want for Christmas Page 9

by Hadley Raydeen


  He noticed he was still touching me and let his hand drop away. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

  “It’s fine,” I all but cooed.

  “Hey, look, I didn’t do anything to her,” he said over my shoulder to my girls, who were looking at him like they were ready to pounce.

  “He didn’t do anything, ladies, chill.” I turned slightly to look at them.

  “Then why is he apologizing?” Tramaine demanded, not letting it go.

  “Because my friends were being assholes to her back there, and I feel bad about it. You didn’t deserve any of that. You look..you look.” He ran a gaze over my body, his eyes stopping at my cleavage.

  “Damn,” he muttered. “You look great...nice, I mean...um.” He scratched his head and squeezed his eyes shut before he spoke again. “Red is your color, Mily,” he said, finally looking at me.

  My body heated, and I swear, if I was lighter my skin would be the color of this damn dress.

  That is the first time he’d ever looked at me like that. Hell, I thought it was the only time he ever looked at me. But, he mentioned he saw me in class. So, he had noticed me before this.

  “Uh...thank you.” The words came out like I was mumbling around marbles. I was losing my cool or at least what little there was of it. I cleared my throat and spoke more clearly this time. “Thank you, Bryson. You don’t look so bad yourself,’ I said, lifting my chin in a fake air of defiance.

  A slow grin spread across his face. “What do you want for Christmas, Mily boo?”

  I know my eyes were as big as saucers.

  He just asked me what I want...and he called me boo...

  Before I could answer, Tanya made her way in between us. Without even trying to hide it, she dumped more than half of a cup of rum and Coke down the front of my dress. The cold liquid ran down my cleavage all the way to my belly button.

  “Oh, oops, sorry Milly moo, didn’t see you standing there.” She smiled at me.

  The girls from their group stood behind us cackling like little witches.

  “Oh hell, no she didn’t,” Tramaine said, trying to jump around me.

  “You can get the other half of my drink. There’s more left!” Tanya sneered.

  Bryson turned, grabbing her by the shoulder. “What is wrong with you? Whatever you are trying to pull, stop it now!”

  “You are gonna stick up for her, over me? What is wrong with you, Bryson?”

  “Hell yeah, I will stick up for her; when you are talking shit, and it’s not justified—I’m gonna tell you about it.”

  She jerked out of his arms. “Get the hell off of me. You can stay here with your new porch monkey friends, and I’ll find my own way home.”

  Bryson turned back to me, bewilderment and disbelief on his face.

  My friends had already grabbed napkins and were trying their damndest to help me clean up.

  “Mily…” he tried.

  “Save it,” Angela shot at him. “Don’t talk to her. Go off with the rest of your racist ass friends.”

  He turned to me, but tears were blinding my eyes. “Mily, you have to know...I’m not like that.”

  “Go!” Tramaine roared at him.

  By the time a few of the guest chaperones had come over to survey the scene, Bryson and his friends had wandered from the room.

  “Is that alcohol we smell, Miss Hawkins?” One of the teachers asked.

  “It was Tanya Cavanaugh. She spilled her drink on me on purpose,” I said of the hateful bitch who ruined my evening and my beautiful gown.

  “Where is she now?”

  “They all left,” Angela answered.

  I wasn’t sure if Bryson or Tanya got in trouble for that night, but I know Bryson found me at school on Monday and asked if I would be willing to tutor him in Math. He never mentioned the night of the Snow Ball again.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jamilya-present-day

  “I can wait for you, if you want, Sis. It’s late.”

  “I’m fine, Niya. I'll have Jarod walk me out,” I said of the older security guard that patrolled the mall after it closed.

  “God, him? He is such a creeper.” Niya let out a long sigh.

  “Who is a creeper?” Julian Bower asked, butting into our conversation. I had no idea why he was still here. He got my statement. He’s interviewed Niya. He’d joked around with…Santa. But, he was lingering. I didn’t really have a problem with Julian. He was never really mean to me in high school; probably because he never talked to me, other than that one night at the mall when I called him about Bryson. I’m surprised he remembered me—Bryson clearly didn’t at first. But, the minute he did and whispered that nickname in my ear...my body tingled again thinking about it.

  Bryson had ended his shift as Santa without saying as much of a ‘goodbye.’ I didn’t want to admit it, but it kind of hurt my feelings. I heard him tell Julian he had to run upstairs to take care of some things before the mall closed.

  “Why is Julian still here?” I mumbled to Niya.

  She looked at me sheepishly. “Um...he’s walking me to my car. He can walk us both out…if you are ready to go.” She hurried the last part.”

  I narrowed my eyes at my sister.

  “By walking you out to your car, you mean what, exactly?” I quizzed her.

  “Shh!” She shooed at me, grabbing my arm and pulled me back to the office. “I’ll be right back, Julian,” she called over her shoulder.

  When we were behind closed doors of the backroom my sister looked at me sheepishly. I crossed my arms, awaiting this explanation.

  “He asked me out, for a late dinner. I said, ‘yes’ because, well…look at him. He’s freaking gorgeous. What is the problem?”

  “I recall you telling me you wouldn’t date anyone that much older than you. You do realize I graduated with Julian right? He is thirty-six maybe even thirty-seven…you are twenty-four!”

  “I know how old I am, Mom!” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll date an oldy but a goody, if he looks like that.”

  “An...oldy...you are too much, girl.” I shook my head at her. But someone might as well have a good time during this Holly Jolly season. I have to admit I was a bit jealous. But, she deserved to be happy too. “Well, go have fun. He is a nice guy, it seems. He’s a cop, so he can keep you safe—”

  “And, he’s fine as hell,” she cut in.

  I bust out laughing. “Okay, he is not bad to look at.”

  “Speaking of ‘not bad to look at’, what are you going to do about Santa?”

  “Do about what?” I asked idly messing with some lacy camis we would put on display tomorrow.

  “Playing coy was never your strong-suit, Sister. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  “You both remember each other, now maybe you should talk to him about how you feel about everything that went on in high school.”

  “No point in all that. We graduated nearly two decades ago. He’s moved on. He is probably still with Tanya. I’m not putting myself out there to get my feelings trampled on, again. Plus, I’ll look stupid as hell whining over some Snow Ball dance from when I was seventeen-years-old.” I laughed but it sounded bitter.

  “You didn’t say anything about a dance?”

  I turned to look at my sister, realizing I’d showed my hand.

  “It’s nothing. You have a hot cop out there waiting for you. Go enjoy your date.” I held up a hand and waved, turning back to the merch on the hangers; a red teddy caught my eye.

  “I don’t like leaving you here like this, Sissy.” Janiya reached out, touching my shoulder.

  “I’ll be fine. I should be the one looking out for you, little sister, not the other way around. Get out of here. I want to hear all about your date, tomorrow. Don’t get too crazy though. I know how you can be.”

  “Oh hush, he’s a cop; what am I gonna do?” She laughed.

  “He has handcuffs …where there’s a will…”

  She giggled. “Trust me I have no problem finding a way.�
�� She winked before trotting from the back room.

  Oh, that girl, what am I gonna do with her.

  I turned back to the items on hangers that had come in earlier, this afternoon. I’d have to find a plan-o-gram for these teddies. I pulled out the one in red and held it up to me as I turned to look in the mirror.

  This would look so good on…hmm.

  I turned to look over my shoulder.

  No one here but me.

  I walk into the dressing room to try on the teddy. No one would see it, of course, but it would be a little Christmas gift from-me-to-me.

  I shimmied out of the clothes I wore for the day and slipped into the lace and satin. It fit my curvy body like a glove. I’d always looked good in red. At least that's what he told me, once upon a time. I stepped out of the dressing room to look in the full-length mirror. Those days of yoga, Zumba and full-body boot camp did a girl’s body good. I adjusted my double Ds in the cups and straightened the satin over my ass.

  When I looked up, my eyes collided with him, still dressed in the Santa outfit, standing in the doorway.

  I yelped. “God in heaven, you just sneak up on people like that?”

  A grin slid across his handsome face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you, Mily boo.”

  I turn to face him. “That is not me, anymore, Nick.”

  The sarcasm in my tone caused one corner of his mouth to turn up. “Why didn’t you call me on my shit, if you knew who I am?” he asked.

  I put a hand on my hip. “I wanted to see how long you would keep the shit up.”

  His gaze ran the length of my body and back again. “I have no problem keeping it up, Jamilya; that I can promise you.” His tone was low and teasing, causing my body to warm and my lady bits to tingle.

  God, so much time had passed, and he can still make me feel like that seventeen-year-old at the Snow Ball. But, that night ended in a cluster, just like the last time I saw him, ten years ago…

  He clearly didn’t remember that night either…or did he.

  “Look, now that you know it’s me, the jig is up; you don’t have to continue doing this Santa bit. We can find someone else. I know you have this property to run, and this silly, #SexySanta thing—”

  “I don’t mind, really. It’s getting people to come in, and it’s the least I could do. I want to apologize for everything that went on with Tanya not only in the past but…recently. I know she came in here and threatened to shut down the store. That is not how I wanted to notify the tenants. It’s not how I would have told you.”

  He stepped toward me and I felt frozen in place. His eyes drank me in again from head to foot, lingering over the dips and valleys of my breasts and hips, over my thighs and legs, before his heated gaze returned to my lips, my eyes. “That is one fuck-hot, Mrs. Claus outfit you have on, Jamilya.”

  I looked down and realized I was revealing a hell of a lot of skin and every inch was ablaze from his attention and looks of appreciation.

  “Yea, it is...they go out on the racks tomorrow. It certainly pairs well with what you are wearing.”

  “I agree,” he said, still closing the distance between us until he stopped right in front of me.

  He reached out and ran fingers over the silky material at my hip and behind, to the small of my back… his touch so feather-soft, my breath hitched in my throat. I looked up into his dark brown eyes as he spoke. “Who are you wearing this for, Jamilya?”

  “I-I…what?”

  I watched his lips as they parted and spoke again. “Who...are you letting unwrap this from your curves this Christmas?”

  The air in the back room of my lingerie shop vibrated with the attraction sizzling between the two of us—the same way it did when we were that night in the mall parking lot...

  He told me he wanted me that night. That he’d always wanted me. The way he looked at me right now was no different.

  I opened my mouth, wanting to be the most honest I’ve been with him and myself. I knew who I wanted to discover my body this Christmas—the same guy I’d always had a thing for since highschool...Bryson Tillerman. I wouldn’t mince words as I’d done before. I knew what I wanted, and he was at the top of my Christmas wish-list.

  “Are you up for the job?” My voice was husky and lust-filled.

  I heard the growl emanate from his body. “I told you, I have no problem with that, Jamilya. You just never gave me the green light.”

  His light touch at the small of my back pressed into me, bringing my body to him. That impressive dick-print, I couldn’t help but notice earlier through those red, lounge pants, pressed fully against me. My breath caught in my throat as it thickened against my middle.

  “I thought I made it clear, the last time I saw you.” I couldn’t keep the disappointment from my voice.

  “The high school dance?” He looked confused.

  “That high school dance was one of the most embarrassing nights of my life. No, not then.” I shook my head and looked away from him.

  “Don’t do that. We’ve had enough of you shying away from me, back when we were teenagers. We are grown-ass adults, now; tell me what you are talking about.” His voice was soft as he put his fingers under my chin, lifting my gaze back to his.

  I searched his face for any teasing or that he wouldn’t remember this in the morning, but his attention was fully on me.

  “I saw you the night of your Masters’ graduation and your birthday…ten years ago.”

  He didn’t seem to remember as he stepped back from me, and I immediately missed the heat of his body.

  “What are you talking about—saw me where?”

  “The night you were in your car, outside in the parking lot of this mall. You don’t remember seeing me?”

  I watched him search his memory bank, but it wasn’t coming back to him.

  “I’m trying to make amends for whatever I did, Jamilya…tell me.”

  I shook my head as my eyes burned with tears that he didn’t remember one of the best nights of my life—a night I would not forget.

  “Jesus, Mily boo...did I hurt you?” he asked, cupping my face with his large hand, running a thumb over my cheek, wiping the tear that broke free.

  “You never hurt me, Bryson. You were tender and…”

  He cocked his head, his eyes falling to my mouth. He leaned in, taking my lips with his. At first, the kiss was tender and soft, waiting for me to open to him. When I finally succumbed to him, he deepened the kiss, his tongue finding mine. I moaned into his mouth, missing the feel of his lips The thoughts of that night came crashing back. His hands were at my back and over the curve of my ass, kneading at the plumpness. I brought my hands to his shoulders, my eyes fluttered open as he moved back only a fraction of an inch, his hot breath still on my lips.

  “I don’t remember all the details, but I think it may have included a little of that?” His voice was a low rumble, and I could only shake my head, ‘yes.’

  “Lock the store up, Jamilya. Come with me and remind me,” he demanded, taking my hand and pulling me after him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jamilya-ten years ago

  The tip had been called into the newsroom, and I was headed out the door, grabbing my winter coat to brace against the December weather.

  “Jamilya! I heard a photographer call after me. You need me to—”

  “No-no, Tony. Let me…” I shook my head, not knowing what else to say. He eyed me. “Look, he is a high school friend; I don’t want to be the one who breaks this story.”

  He waited for only a beat, before nodding. “You know someone else will, though, right?”

  “I know, but I want to go and see what I can do before that happens,” I said backing toward the front door.

  “Okay go,” he said coaxing me on. “I’ll hold off the wolves as long as I can.”

  And, I knew those wolves were coming. I saw the story on the news line. Someone had called in and said that ‘Bryson Tillerman was seen drunk and disorderly in t
he parking lot at Parkway Central Mall.’ They didn’t necessarily want to get him in trouble, because whoever called it in, hadn’t called the police, they had only called the news station—no doubt to embarrass him. It reminded me of something juvenile and highschool like.

  My only thought was Tanya Cavanaugh.

  It had her name and stench of petty written all over it.

  I turned my second-hand, beater of a car into the parking lot of the mall I knew so well; it was falling down around the ears of so many.

  I dialed the police department and asked for the only person I thought I could trust.

  “May I speak with Officer Julian Bower please?” I asked.

  “Who is calling?” The uppity sounding dispatcher's nasal cavity needed work. She sounded like nails down an old chalkboard.

  “It’s Jamilya Hawkins.”

  To say I was an old friend was a far-stretch by any means, but if it opened doors and got the man on the phone, I’d used it.

  “We are friends. I need to talk to him; it’s important.” I knew that sounded suspect at best being that any friend of mine, would have my cell phone number. The fact I was calling the police station, instead, negated that.

  “Hmmm…” the dispatcher said.

  “Please. It’s important,” I said pulling up beside the Mercedes the caller had described in her call to the news station.

  I looked over at the man going to the head of a bottle of whiskey in his vehicle. I turned and saw a group of females, which included Tanya Cavanaugh, and several girls I recognized from high school, pile into an Uber pool while they pointed at Bryson’s vehicle, laughing their asses off and taking pictures with their cellphones.

  She did do this—that bitch.

  “Julian Bower here.” Julian must have corroborated my story because his deep, brusk tone sounded in my ear mere seconds later and brought me back to the situation at hand. “Jamilya?” he asked.

  “Hey, Julian—long time no talk.” But, I was in no mood for small talk. We barely said ‘hello’ to each other in high school, and I wasn’t gonna start tonight, not when I needed him to get his ass here and help his friend.

 

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