I Really Can’t Stay (A.R.’s Holiday Standalones #1)

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Message received

Subject: Not a party

I can’t wait to find out which of us is the better cookie decorator. See you tonight.

Mateo Reyes

___

L ight raindrops scatter against the windshield of my car, the sound mingling with the soft click-click click-click of my turn signal as I turn from Rosecrans Street and into the area of San Diego known as Liberty Station. The old Navy training center has become a popular spot to hang out, shop, and eat, and is situated on hundreds of acres of businesses, parks, and venues. It’s gorgeous—one of my favorite places to visit.

In theory, I should be more excited than I am to be here, but the nerves have taken over. The reality that I’m about to meet a stranger has settled in.

Pulling into a parking spot, I turn off the car and look out toward the small strip of water that separates Liberty Station from the airport. The marine layer is thick, and I shiver preemptively, already knowing I’m going to be cold the second I turn my car off and exit its warmth.

I’ve parked a little far from where Mateo and I are meeting up, but it’s busy tonight, and parking was hard to find.

We’re meeting inside Public Market to grab a coffee before we decorate cookies, and I question whether agreeing to this date was a good idea since it goes against the entire point of why I’m doing this.

I’m not looking to date someone. Ever since my family died, that part of me shut off—my love just…disappeared. Think Stefan Salvatore in The Vampire Diaries turning off his humanity. That’s me, just with love.

I’ve accepted it, and it’s the exact reason I’m seeking no-strings-attached companionship this holiday season. I just want to be someone's date to an event they don’t want to show up alone to, but for whatever reason, I was compelled to say yes to meeting Mateo.

To rip off the Band-Aid, so to speak.

You’ve got this, I give myself a pep talk as I white-knuckle the door handle. Closing my eyes, I try to envision the date and how it will play out, hoping that I’m right.

As soon as I push the car door open, the thick, chilly air kisses my nose and cheeks, sending a shiver through me. While walking away from my car, I click the key fob to lock it no less than six times for extra lockiness, then once more for good measure, but I end up being too far.

The closer I get to Public Market, the upscale food court that Liberty Station is known for, the more intensely my heart starts hammering in my chest. Standing just outside one of the entrances is a man looking almost as nervous as I am as he bounces on the balls of his feet. He’s wearing a navy blue puffer jacket—but it’s one of the thin ones, not the ultra puffy ones like I prefer for myself—and dark wash jeans, with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his pants. His hair is dark and styled, and I’m surprised to see he’s wearing glasses.

They look good on him. Really, really, good.

Scanning the parking lot again, his eyes meet mine as I emerge from between the two cars I momentarily hid behind so I could scope him out.

“Holly? Hi!” he calls out as I draw closer, and my smile widens. He’s giving off good energy—kind energy. Not ‘I’m actually a creepy stalker serial killer who wants to wear your flesh’ kind of energy.

“Hey, so nice to—” But my sentence is cut short as I trip on the curb, stumbling and almost falling, before I’m able to get my balance back. Unfortunately for my pride, Mateo somehow is able to close the distance to me and try to catch me. As he bends, I stand, and my head collides with his jaw.

“Ow!”

“Shit!”

Cradling his chin, Mateo scrunches his eyes together, clearly in pain. “Well, that’s one way to introduce yourself. Are you okay?”

Mortified, I take a step back and cross my arms over my chest. “I’m so sorry, Mateo. I can leave, I should go?—”

“No, stop,” he takes a step forward, “don’t be silly. We have cookies waiting for us, remember?”

“Are you sure? I’m pretty sure I just assaulted you.”

“Nah, I’m the one who wanted to be a white knight and save the damsel from her impending doom of a scraped knee. That collision was my bad.”

His lopsided smile makes me smile, and a warm fuzzy haze sweeps through me as he extends his hand for me to take. “Come on, we need something warm to drink before we consume our body weight in cookies and frosting.”

“Just our body weight?” I ask, taking his hand. The gesture is friendly, and although I feel a little crazy for immediately holding hands with a stranger, it doesn’t feel awkward or weird.

He laughs. “Ah, I’ve got a sweet tooth on my hands, do I?”

“Maybe just a little.”

Stopping in front of the coffee counter, I scan the menu and figure out what I want to drink, settling on peppermint tea. Coffee sounds better, but even with decaf, I’ll be up all night if I drink it past two o’clock. Mateo orders our drinks, and I find us a table nearby to sit at until the cookie decorating begins.

“So tell me about yourself, Holly North,” he says as he takes the seat across from me a few minutes later, passing me my tea.

“What do you want to know?” I’m horrible at talking about myself. Give me a direct question and I can answer just fine. Ask me to just dive in and start telling you things about my life, and I freeze.

“How long have you lived in San Diego?”

“Pretty much my entire life. You?”

“Just moved here for work about three months ago. Hence, finding a stranger to decorate cookies with me.”

“Is cookie decorating your thing?”

“Nah, I just thought it sounded like something cutesy to do for the holidays with a pretty lady.”

“Ah, so what came first, finding the deal on the cookies or finding the lady?”

His eyes narrow playfully as he takes a long sip of his drink, then he laughs. “A gentleman can’t tell all his secrets.”

We fall into a playful banter for the rest of the time we sit and relax until we can go decorate our sweet treats. Set up as a pop-up style venue, we’re greeted by three rows of tables adorned with every type of sugar cookie cut-out shape, frosting color, and type of sprinkle you can think of. Immediately, I feel giddy, and don’t hesitate before pulling Mateo through the doors to find a space and wait for further instruction.

Showing our proof of payment to the woman who comes to greet us, she explains the rules and hands us both thin fabric aprons.

“They’re really quite simple. Wash your hands prior to touching the cookies and always use the utensils for the application of the frosting and sprinkles. Absolutely no licking your hands if you get frosting on them, and if you choose to eat your cookies while you’re here rather than take them home, please feel free to sit at one of the tables along the side. You each get a half dozen cookies to select and decorate. If you need me, my name is Sandra.”

“Thank you, Sandra,” I tell the woman sweetly, then look back at Mateo.

“Don’t lick the frosting off our hands if it gets on them? Uh. Way to ruin the fun,” he whispers, and I burst out laughing.

Stepping closer to the cookie table, I take in all of my options.

“Are any of them speaking to you?” Mateo reaches for a reindeer. “This one spoke to me. He said, pick me, you ho ho ho.”

Once again, I can’t control the laughter that bubbles out of me. “I think I want one of these.” Grabbing a snowman, I purse my lips, then reach for a present. “And maybe this one.”

Mateo picks up a mitten, sled, Santa head, elf, and gingerbread man, while I pick up a candy cane, Christmas tree, sweater, and star. There are red and green boxes at the end of the table to lay the cookies in, so we grab those, too, before going to the frosting table.

Time flies by as we live in the moment while playing with our sugary treats, laughing uncontrollably, and singing painfully off-key along with the carols that play through the sound system. Two hours and twelve horrific-looking cookies later, we finish, both covered in frosting. I’m pretty sure there’s even a glob of it on my eyelash.

“Can I walk you to your car?” Mateo asks as we leave, walking in the direction I arrived in.

“Yeah.” I smile at him and look down at the box in my hand before gazing forward. The parking lot has thinned, and I can see my car in the distance.

Nerves trickle their way back into my system because I know we’ve reached that point in the evening where we’ll arrive at a crossroads, and I’ll have a decision to make.

My stomach dips in anticipation when we come to a stop in front of my car and Mateo takes the box from my hands so I can fish my keys out of my purse. Unlocking it, I watch him open the back driver’s door and place the cookies on the floorboard before shutting them inside.

“I had a great time tonight,” I tell him earnestly. “Thank you for asking me to come with you.”

“This is the most fun I’ve had since I moved here. I haven’t laughed that hard since I was in college.”

I can’t remember the last time I laughed that hard, period.

Placing his box of cookies on top of my car, he steps closer and weaves his hand through my hair, resting it on the back of my neck. His fingers are cold against my skin as he draws me in, and I swallow thickly, wondering if I even really want to kiss him.

When his lips press against mine, butterflies stir in my stomach, taking flight in a slow, melodic way. Mateo kisses with experience, deepening it in a way that’s respectful, yet tells me without words exactly what he’s interested in.

And as much as I enjoyed his company tonight, I’m just not looking for anything further than what we’ve already shared.

I shouldn’t have let him kiss me.

Breaking the kiss, I lick my lips as our gaze meets, and a dopey smile settles on his face.

“Mateo, I really can’t?—”

“Shh,” he whispers, kissing me again softly. “No strings, no sex,” he recites my SparksFly bio. Reaching for the box sitting on my car, he takes it, then buries one hand in his pocket. “I’ll see you around, Holly North. Get home safe.”

Dumbfounded, I watch as he walks backward away from me. “That’s it then?” I call out to him, equal parts happy and confused.

He shrugs and repeats, “Get home safe, Holly,” still walking backward.

Realizing he won’t turn around until I’m in my car, I shake my head and laugh before slipping into the driver's seat. Touching my fingers to my lips, I smile again, feeling like Mateo actually healed something inside me tonight. The date went great, and even though I’m not delusional enough to think they will all go off without a hitch, I can honestly say I’m excited to see what the others bring.

I’m excited for more laughter. More fun. More warmth .

I can do this.

Three more weeks. Three more dates.

Maybe this holiday season won’t be as lonely as I thought.