Happy

“Oh, what’s this?”

I lifted up my head, blinking my eyes to adjust them to the sun reflecting off the snow outside and seeping into the shop. I could feel the red spot burning against my skin where my forehead had been resting against my arms. I looked over my shoulder at my manager Scott, who had a cup in his hands, a sly smirk pulling at his lips as he leaned against the back counter like he was God’s gift to the world.

He had finally showed up after our belated breakfast rush had passed, his polo wrinkled and his bright red hair a disheveled, greasy mess. And for the past three hours, he had made it his new life goal to drive me up the wall with his annoying questions and pointless comments since work had been relatively slow all day. I was about one more terrible pun away from throwing hot coffee in his face.

“Mmm,” he sighed, scanning the markings I’d made on the side of the cup. “Pumpkin… white chocolate? Awesome.”

“Don’t,” I groaned, finally standing up straight. My arms fell to my sides as I shot him a flat look. “It’s been sitting out all day.”

He sniffed at the cup, shrugged, then brought it up to his lips. But before he could take a sip, Winona rounded the corner, snatching Liam’s old drink from his hands and putting it back on the counter next to me as she shot me an annoyed look.

Clearly I wasn’t the only one fed up with Scott’s antics.

Scott rolled his eyes and brushed past the two of us for the back office around the corner, where he had been hiding out for most of his shift when he wasn’t busy irritating Winona and me or ordering us around to tidy up for Grimes’s inspection later that afternoon. The pungent scent of stale boy sweat and cheap cologne followed him before he slammed the door shut.

“God, nothing would give me quite as much joy as it would to see that fucker get fired,” Winona sighed, hopping up onto the counter next to her usual register. She scanned her nails, picking at the chipping maroon paint.

It goes without saying that Winona and I were both banking on Grimes showing up at the worst possible time.

“He smells what I imagine sweaty balls in a high school locker room would smell like,” she went on after a moment, still examining her nails. I groaned, disgusted, but she plowed on, still staring at her nail polish and not paying my stink eye any mind. “I mean, seriously. I hate the dude.”

“Can we talk about something other than how bad Scott smells? It’s kind of bumming me out.”

“I know what we can talk about,” she sang smugly.

I let out another groan, throwing my head back as I dug my fingers into my eyes. “Please. No.”

Winona wiggled her eyebrows, watching me over her nails. “Can’t stop thinking about the man candy that was in here earlier?”

No, I couldn’t.

I couldn’t stop thinking about that crinkly-eyed smile of his, or the way his forehead would wrinkle a billion different ways when he was surprised. How his voice, deep and sultry and sweet, made some seriously medically questionable things happen to my insides, or how his chocolate eyes were a shade unlike any cup of coffee I’d ever brewed before. I couldn’t get that stupid grin out of my head, the one he showed off after I let slip some of the jumbled thoughts that had been plaguing me all month. I couldn’t get a grasp on his blatant honesty, or how the way he stared at me made me feel like someone had skinned my soul open and left my ugliest parts on display for everyone to see. I couldn’t get him out of my head, not even his stupid little twittering laugh, or how he so clearly loved his family, or the way he said my name like he wanted it to be his last dying word before his lungs finally collapsed.

I definitely could not stop thinking about Liam Payne, and I hated myself for it.

But I wasn’t about to tell Winona that.

“I haven’t spared him a single second of my thoughts until just now.”

She chuckled a little, shooting me a smirk as she rolled her eyes. “Right.”

“What time is it?” I asked after a moment, just as the song on the speakers changed to another commercial.

“10:00-ish.” She looked up from her nails and hopped off the counter. “Did you want to take lunch? I can handle it.”

Even though I hadn’t been able to kill the swooping sensation that had settled in my stomach since the second Liam left during the breakfast rush, I was still as hungry as ever, and the leftover stress from making coffee for a pop star only made my appetite snarl inside me the second I thought about it. I was starving.

But I had barely uttered a single word when the door to the store was shoved open, the gust of cold air that followed making goosebumps crawl up my arms.

Well, it was either that or the sight of Liam with a scowl on his face stepping into the store that made me shiver.

My jaw turned slack as I stared at the door, watching him as he thundered inside. He ripped off his leather gloves with his teeth, a plastic grocery bag slung in his only free hand, as he walked up to the counter, not even sparing me a glance. Before I even realized where he was heading, before I could even think of what I should say to him, he slunk behind the front counter and pushed open the door to the break room, letting it slam closed behind him.

“You can’t—” I groaned, turning around and giving Winona a pleading look. “Help me out here, dude.”

“Don’t look at me, I can’t do anything about it. I have to watch the store.” Then she gave me a little nudge towards the break room, a supportive smile on her face. “You’re on lunch, remember?”

“You’re so helpful,” I muttered, batting my hand at her.

Just as I rounded the corner to the back, Scott pulled open the office door, his nose scrunched as he stuck his head through the doorway. “What’s going on out here? I thought I heard something.”

I sneered, rolling my eyes. “Shut up, Scott.”

He only offered me a half-hearted scoff in return before he recoiled back into the manager’s office.

Right before I shoved open the swinging door to the break room, I could feel bits of anger start to prick at my skin at the thought of Liam returning now when he hadn’t said a word when he left, hadn’t even given me a proper warning before he stumbled out back into the snow without his coffee and nothing but a half-assed wave to give me in return. I felt frustrated and maybe even a little abandoned, even though I knew full well I didn’t really have the right to be. So he left. He probably had a good reason too, because until then I hadn’t seen his brows pinch so tightly together, like he was trying to figure out a Rubik’s cube blindfolded. He probably had something important to do, being the important person he was. So I couldn’t really blame him.

But I wanted to anyway, and I didn’t know why.

“What the fuck is your problem?” I hissed, letting the swinging door shut behind me with a thick smack. I set my fists on my hips and watched Liam as he set down the grocery bag on the picnic table near the back of the break room. He had some sort of deer in the headlights look on when he twisted around to face me, his eyes wide and his scruffy jaw slack. “You can’t be back here. Employees only.”

He waved his hand, shaking his head. “Wait, Kaitlin—”

“My district manager’s gonna be here soon. You can’t be back here,” I repeated, gasping for the right words. “He’ll kill me.”

His face fell. “Now, listen, I have a good reason—”

“What happened to you? Why did you leave like that without letting me know?” My voice hitched, and I swallowed against the lump in my throat, praying he didn’t notice how much of an effect he already had on me, despite only knowing him for as long as I did.

“I’m sorry, Kait. Just—”

“No,” I said, not letting him get another word in. “No, listen. I get that you have other responsibilities. You’re not like every other twenty-something, I understand that. But where do you get off on leaving—”

I stopped. I stopped, and that was all I could do, because it was then that I finally spotted the top of a mini plastic evergreen tree sticking out from the grocery bag Liam had brought with him.

My eyes flicked from the sack to Liam. “Is that a Christmas tree?”

I swallowed again, hoping to wet my throat so my voice would stop cracking so pathetically. I chanced a few steps forward until I was standing right in front of Liam, my mouth suddenly dry as though I’d swallowed a handful of coffee grounds and chased it with fire.

“Why… Why do you have a Christmas tree, Liam?”

He peered down at me, and when I looked up, I noticed he had ducked his head so he could ease the distance between us, and the sight sent my stomach on a rampage, my insides exploding like a bag of popcorn in a microwave.

“I brought you more than just the Christmas tree,” he said.

Then he turned around and pulled out the crooked tree from the bag, setting it in the middle of the table. It was a small thing, not much bigger than a foot tall, decorated with gold and silver tinsel and capped with a shiny plastic star, which sat precariously on the top.

“Please let me explain myself. Because I didn’t mean to leave you.” He licked his lips, adjusting the star on top, and glanced at me over his shoulder. “Not like that. Not yet.”

“What do you mean?” I asked softly, watching him as he shifted under my gaze.

He heaved a sigh, then reached for the lapels of his leather jacket, which was still dotted with snowflakes, and yanked it off, his muscles straining. He slung it over one of the chairs at the table, then turned back around, observing me carefully as he slunk his hands into his pockets, weighing down his jeans to reveal a sliver of his boxer briefs.

He looked even more tired than he did earlier that day, and I just knew it wasn’t merely because he left Dunkin before he ever had his morning cup of coffee. The lines under his eyes seemed to have doubled in the hours since I’d seen him last, and his hair was a tangled mess atop his head, as though he tried combing through his bedhead with his fingers. The hair of one of his eyebrows was furrowed the wrong way, like he’d buried his face into a pillow, and he smelled of clean sheets and cinnamon and leather, as well as something just distinctly boyish.

All I could do was swallow back the urge to touch him so he knew – somehow, in some way – I was holding chipped porcelain.

“I got a phone call when you were making my coffee. I thought it was only gonna be a second because it was just my manager, but he rang…” His voice hitched, and he cleared his throat uncomfortably, reaching up to massage the back of his neck. “He rang to tell me that he couldn’t find me another flight back home in time for Christmas.”

I narrowed my eyes. Something was off, I just knew it. “That’s not it, though, is it?” I asked gently.

He tore his gaze from his feet, glancing at me once before he went back to staring at his scuffed boots. His arm dropped back to his side. “No. It’s not.”

I reached out and wrapped my fingers around his arm, my thumb brushing against the crook of his elbow. He glanced at me for only a second before he looked back at the floor.

“They wanted me to hide out in my hotel room so I don’t raise any red flags to the press. That’s why I had to leave so quickly.”

My hand slunk back to my side, and I crossed my arms. Liam chewed on his lower lip anxiously, cowering under my steady gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice hushed. “I didn’t know what to say to you, and then my manager started freaking out, and so I went back to my hotel. I went back, and I just got so angry. I was exhausted, but I was still angry. So I tried to sleep it off, maybe clear my head, but I just couldn’t fall asleep. I couldn’t stop thinking. So I got up and walked down to that chemist’s at the corner of the street. And I… I picked this up for you.”

He twisted around and dug into the bag, the plastic rustling quietly. I walked around him as I watched him rifle through the sack, then leaned my hip against the picnic table just next to him. His hands stilled, closing around a tiny, fluffy red thing, and he pulled it out and handed it to me.

It was a Santa hat, just maybe big enough for a Chihuahua to wear.

“Well, put it on, then,” he commanded gently, offering it to me again when he saw me hesitate.

I looked up at him, and instead of the serious, half-thoughtful expression he’d been wearing since he barged inside, the corner of his mouth was picked up in the shyest smirk, as though he was trying not to laugh at the astonishment that wrinkled my forehead.

“How do you expect me to wear this?” I laughed, taking it from him. “It won’t even fit me.”

He smiled fully then, the crinkles by his eyes popping up, and reached behind him and pulled out another Santa hat from the bag, spinning it around his finger. But this one was smaller than mine, and flatter, and when he held it out to me in his palm did I finally notice that it was a yamaka. An actual yamaka made out of red felt and trimmed with white fluff along the edges, with a white pompom glued on top.

“Oh my gosh,” I giggled, pressing my fingers to my lips.

His smile grew tenfold, then he popped the yamaka on the back of his head, squishing it on top of his bedhead before he snatched my own Santa hat from my hands. He stepped forward and lifted it up to my head, placing it gently on top of my hair and patting it in place. His eyes caught mine and he beamed, brushing a flyaway behind my ear.

I ducked my head, already well aware that my cheeks were darker than the red felt of the yamaka resting precariously atop his head.

“What else did you bring?” I ventured, stealing a glance at him as he turned around to adjust the tinsel on the tree.

He caught my eyes over his shoulder, then reached for the grocery bag again, pulling out a small box of miniature red and green candy canes.

“It’s not much,” he said, shrugging once and showing off the candy. He ripped the plastic around it open, the muscles in his arms twitching, and a few pieces spilled across the picnic table, clattering noisily. “Believe it or not, the chemist’s isn’t exactly the best place to buy Christmas decorations last minute,” he said, gathering them back up.

He twisted around and held a handful out to me, taking my hands in his and dropping the candy in my palms when I cupped them together. I ambled up next to him, my elbow brushing against his, as I helped him dot the tree with a few sweets, careful not to let them fall between the plastic branches.

“You still owe me a coffee,” I said after a moment, watching him as he caught a green candy cane as it teetered and fell off the tinsel. “So don’t think this is getting you out of it any time soon.”

His lips twitched, and he pressed them together to keep from grinning. He stole a glance at me before he went back to staring at the tree. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

We stayed like that for a minute, just hanging the candy on tree. His hands brushed mine every now and then, and every time, it felt like someone had poured boiling water all over my fingers.

“I just didn’t want to see you sad.”

His voice was rough and low, but it still grated my skin like sandpaper, leaving a trail of goosebumps across my skin that appeared so fast I thought they’d never fade away.

“Like, I know we just met, but it still doesn’t change the fact that every time I see that light of yours flicker, it feels like someone’s sucker punched me in the gut and lit my insides on fire.” He shrugged again, and his arm brushed against mine, his skin warm like a mug of hot chocolate. “I don’t know, I guess I thought this might help. If only a little bit. Because more than anything right now, I want to see you happy.”

I watched him carefully, taking in the sight of him as he stood next to me, his lower lip drawn between his teeth as he averted my gaze.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you like that,” I said softly. I wanted him to know I meant it. I hoped he did. “Thank you.”

He nodded. With his eyes still glued to the tree, he lifted up his hand and rested it against the small of my back, his thumb twitching nervously against the fabric of my polo.

Another candy cane fell between the branches not a second later, knocking down a whole string of sweets that clattered onto the table. Liam groaned, frustrated, and rushed to pick them up. It was then that I noticed one last greenish trinket buried under the folds of the grocery bag he had left next to the tree, something glossy and plastic and not much bigger than a deck of cards.

“What’s this?” I mused, circling around him as he fumbled with the candy.

“Kaitlin, wait.”

We reached for the bag at the same time, my fingers closing over the handles as he scrambled for the plastic, abandoning the candy canes in his hands and tossing them onto the table. But I was too quick for him, and he dropped his hands back to his sides and reached up to pinch the back of his neck, staring at the ground as I gathered the white grocery bag in my hands.

“What?” I asked nervously, a laugh tickling my throat. “What is it that you don’t want me to see?”

He swallowed hard enough that I could hear it, and the sight of his Adam’s apple bobbing uneasily stilled my hands as my grip tightened around the handles.

“It was a stupid idea,” he finally said, still unable to look at me. I could see a blush stain his neck and crawl across his cheeks.

“What are you talking about?” I peered down at my hands, and there, all the way at the bottom of the grocery bag with one end sticking out of a tear in the sack, was a shiny, plastic branch of mistletoe, complete with tiny red berries near the stem.

I closed my eyes as the realization dawned over me, my lips parting as my jaw went slack. I dropped my head as my expression fell, my brows knitting together so tightly that I wouldn’t have been surprised if my skin stayed furrowed that way forever.

He wanted to kiss me.

I pinched the mistletoe between my fingers and tossed the grocery bag to the floor, then pressed the cold plastic leaves to my forehead, my eyes still shut tight as I fought to unscrew my brows. I cupped my elbow with my other hand, my arm slung across my chest as I struggled to concentrate on anything other than the embarrassment that was making my whole body tremble, or the heat of Liam’s shame that seemed to wash off of him in waves, which only made it that much harder to focus on anything other than how much I wanted to kiss him too. I was soaked in the feeling, completely and utterly overflowing with it, and the sensation pricked at my skin, sending a hot shock from the tips of my toes to every last muscle in my shoulders as they tensed up.

“I don’t know why I even brought it with me.” He struggled to let out a chuckle to lighten the mood, but all that came out was something between a wheeze and a cough. “Actually, I don’t even know why I bought it in the first place. It was right stupid of me, just the absolute worst idea ever, and I’m so, just so—”

He stopped talking when I finally opened my eyes and looked up at him, rubbing my chapped lips together as I scanned his face.

“Why?” I croaked, stepping close enough that I could feel his breath rustle my bangs against my forehead. “Was me spewing every last thought I’ve had in the last month not enough for you?” I licked my lips, stalling as I watched Liam’s face fall. “What more do you want from me?”

He glanced off to the side, but then looked back, locking eyes with me. “I don’t want more. I think I want everything.”

He reached up and plucked the mistletoe from between my fingers, replacing it with his hand as he gently pinched my fingertips.

I tried to breathe, but the air seared every inch of my throat.

“I just didn’t know how to say it without coming off mad, and don’t even think about saying I’m not because you’re looking at me right now like I’m the craziest person in the world,” he rushed out all in one breath, finally letting go of my hand. He didn’t tear his eyes from me, though, not for one second, and it froze me in place stronger than ice. “And I thought the mistletoe might do a better job of explaining that I really like you, all of you, even though I’ve only known you for a fucking hour, and admitting that to you scares the shit out of me, never mind the fact that it’s true.”

“Don’t lie to me,” I said, my voice shaking despite my best efforts. Without thinking, I reached out and pinched the hem of his t-shirt between my fingers, and he stepped closer, the toes of his boots touching my shoes. “I just hope you’re not lying to me, because…” I swallowed. “Because—”

“Because why?” He licked his lips as he toyed with a shy smile.

I didn’t realize how difficult it was to kiss someone a half foot taller than me until that moment. I tilted my chin and looked up at Liam, hoping he’d get the clue, but all he could manage was to let his eyes bug out like someone had put a vacuum tube up to his face and turned it on full blast. I was impatient, and maybe just a little bit wound up by the sight of him standing there with ruddy cheeks and chapped lips, so I rolled up to the tips of my toes and caught his mouth with mine, pinching his thin t-shirt between my fingers so I could pull him closer.

He reacted immediately, leaning down and matching our lips together again as he pressed his palm full against my stomach, his other arm snaking around my back to trace circles into my spine. A string of goosebumps burst across my skin from there and spread all over my back and down my arms, so fast that I was sure that Liam could feel them through my shirt. His stubble was surprisingly soft against my mouth, his lips warm. He tasted like Coke and blueberries and sugar, and every breath that blew across my face was sweeter than any cup of coffee I’d ever had before.

“You love Christmas for a reason.”

Breathless, I ducked my head and dragged my hands down the front of his shirt. His grip tightened around my waist, and I pressed closer.

“I do?” I gasped.

He heaved a sigh and nodded, then reached up with his free hand to pinch his lower lip between his fingers. “I wanted to remind you that the holidays aren’t a distraction. That they actually mean something.” He smiled softly. “To everyone. It’s this time of year that makes people think a little harder about the important things and less about the little things. And that’s what makes you happy. It’s so obvious, but you somehow forgot. You forgot, so I wanted to show you. And I want to keep showing you, over and over again, until I have to leave, because it’s important to you. And that’s what makes it important to me.”

He dug into his pocket then, and I looked down as he finally fished out a pencil, one of those cheap ones covered with plastic and stubbed with a chunky, shitty eraser. It was printed with a swirl of red and white stripes, the end curved into a hook like a candy cane. He held it up between us, rolling it between his fingers, and offered it to me.

“Maybe this will help you finish all those scholarship applications.”

I let out a breathy laugh and took it from him, grasping it tightly in my hand.

He bent down, dropping his head next to mine. I could feel his lips brush against my ear as he spoke, and I reached up and gripped the sides of his t-shirt to balance myself. I felt dizzy all of a sudden, the sensation washing over me and scrambling my brain. It was almost a sweet relief, like it was a long time coming.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t felt that way before about anyone, but Liam wasn’t just anyone.

“Please don’t forget what makes you happy,” he murmured. “Please don’t.”

I think he knew that when I leaned back and softly kissed his cheek, it was my way of saying, “I promise.”