Together by This Christmas Tree

cally mcgregor.

I nervously tucked my hair behind my ear, smiling quietly as Jenny snuck around me, hugging me gently as she walked out. John stood in awe as I stood there, my flats suddenly fascinating, and he gently came up to me, wrapping his arms around me and gently kissing my forehead. “You look beautiful, Cally.” He said, and he quietly led me into the kitchen, where there were nicely laid out appetizers, while a whole chicken cooked in the oven.

I smiled, kissing his cheek. “Well, darling, the thought was nice, but I know your mother helped you do this,” I said, putting a stuffed mushroom in my mouth as he smiled, his cheeks flushed red, absolutely adorable in so many ways. I smiled and held his hand close to my waist, giggling as I handed him a mushroom.

“Is it that obvious?” He muttered, handing me a glass of red wine as we nibbled on what his mom had made. I smiled and nodded, leaning against his counter as we talked about anything: my day at work, which meant stacking beer bottles and countless other things on selves, and about John’s day of songwriting, and he promised he’d tell me all about it.

The timer dinged and I kissed him, his brows raised. I blushed. “It’s good luck,” I said quietly, totally lying. “At least, that’s what I heard.” John smirked, pulling me closer and winking.

“Then I want more good luck,” He murmured, kissing me deeply and fully, keeping me close. I pulled away, making invisible patterns on his chest and looking up at his six foot tall figure.

“You’re going to burn the chicken, and that looks absolutely delicious.” He snorted, pulling it out and setting it on his state of the art stove. He blew on it a few times, and then turned back to me. He smiled.

“Ms. Cally, you gonna stay with me tonight?” He asked, and I took a few steps forward, sliding my arms around his waist and wrapping my shoe around his ankle, smirking as best as I could. I wanted him to love me like he loved the beautiful and curvaceous Sumner, and besides, that is why I slept with him, in part. It was eating away at me like nothing else, but I still loved him.

“Well, I guess that depends, sweetheart,” I said, reaching behind him and sticking my finger in the whipped cream. “Only if you want me to.” I dabbed his nose with the whipped cream and giggled, running towards his room as he chased after me, wrapping his arms around my waist and throwing me sideways over his shoulder, laughing his deep belly laugh that I thought was so hot.

I wrapped my head around his shoulder and kissed his cheek, slamming him into the counter as he laughed. He made me so fucking happy that it almost seemed unreal. I wanted to love him until the day I died. It was weird, almost. I love you, John..