JENNIE

My mouth immediately opens, and she doesn't miss the opportunity to slip her tongue into it. The metal of her lip ring is cool against my lips, and I run my tongue along its smooth surface. The familiar taste of her ignites me, like it always has. No matter how hard I fight it, I need her. I need to be close to her, I need her to comfort me, to challenge me, to annoy me, to kiss me, and to love me. My fingers tangle themselves in her hair, and I tug at the soft strands when her grip on my waist tightens. She said everything I wanted and needed to hear to feel better about my reckless decision to allow her back into my life . . . even though she never actually left. I know I should've held out longer, tortured her with waiting the way she tortured me with her lies, but I couldn't. This isn't the movies. This is real life—my life—and my life isn't complete or even tolerable without her. This tattooed, rude, angry girl has gotten under my skin and into my heart, and I know that no matter how hard I try, I can't get her out.

Her tongue skims my bottom lip and I'm slightly embarrassed when a moan escapes my throat. When I pull away, we're both out of breath and my skin is hot and her cheeks are flushed.

"Thank you for giving me another chance," she pants and pulls me into her chest.

"You act like I had a choice." She frowns. "You do."

"I know," I lie. But I haven't had a choice since I met her. I've been completely gone for her since the first time we kissed.

"Where do we go from here?" I ask her. "That's up to you. You know what I want."

"I want to be like we were before . . . well, how we were without all the other stuff," I tell Lisa, and she nods.

"That's what I want, too, baby. I'll make this up to you, I promise."

Every time Lisa calls me baby my stomach flutters. The mixture of her raspy voice, her accent, and the gentleness behind her tone makes for the most perfect combination.

"Please don't make me regret this," I beg her, and she takes my face into her hands once more.

"I won't. You'll see," she promises and kisses me again.

I know that Lisa and I still have things to sort out, but I feel so resolved now, so calm, so right. I'm worried about everyone's reaction, especially my mother's, but I'll deal with that when the time comes. The fact that I'm not spending Christmas with her for the first time in eighteen years in favor of Lisa and me being together again will only make things worse, but honestly I don't care. Well, I care, but I can't keep going to war with her over my life choices, and it's impossible to make her happy, so I'm done really trying.

I lean my head against Lisa's chest and she takes the end of my ponytail into her hands and twirls it between her fingers. I'm glad that I got all of the gifts wrapped; it was stressful enough buying them at the very last minute.

Shit. I didn't get Lisa a gift! Did she get me one? Probably not, but now that we're together again . . . or sort of for the first time . . . I'm afraid that she did and will feel bad that I didn't get her anything at all. Actually, what would I even get her?

"What's wrong?" she asks and moves her hand to my chin, tilting my face to her.

"Nothing . . ."

"You aren't . . ." she starts, slow and unsure. "You're not . . . you know . . . changing your mind?"

"No . . . no. I just . . . I didn't get you a gift," I admit.

Her face breaks into a smile, and her eyes meet mine. "You're worried about getting me a gift for Christmas?" She laughs. "Jennie, honestly, you've given me everything. You worrying about a Christmas gift is ridiculous."

I still feel guilty, but I love the confidence on her face. "You're sure?" I ask.

"Positive." She laughs again.

"I'll get you something really great for your birthday," I say, and she moves her hand back to my face. Her thumb runs along my bottom lip, causing my lips to part, and I expect her to kiss me again. Instead, her lips touch down on my nose and then my forehead in a surprisingly sweet gesture.

"I don't really do birthdays," she tells me.

"I know . . . I don't either." This is one of the few things we have in common.

"Lisa?" Chit's voice calls as I hear a light tap on the door. She groans and rolls her eyes as I climb off her lap.

I give her a little frown. "It wouldn't kill you to be nicer to her—she hasn't seen you in a year."

"I'm not mean to her," she says. And, honestly, I know she believes that. "Just try to be a little nicer, for me?" I bat my eyelashes dramatically, making her smile and shake her head. "You're the devil," she teases.

Her mom knocks again. "Lisa?"

"Coming!" she says and climbs off the bed. Opening the door, I see her mom, who looks completely bored.

"Do you two want to watch a movie, perhaps?" she asks.

She turns to me and raises her brow just as I say, "Yeah, we do" and climb off the bed.

"Fantastic!" She smiles and ruffles her daughter's hair. "Let me change first," Lisa says and waves us out.

Chit holds her hand out to me. "Come on, Jennie, let's make some snacks."

As I follow her mom into the kitchen, I realize it's probably not a good idea for me to watch Lisa change anyway. I want to take things slow. Slow. With Lisa, I don't know if that's possible. I wonder if I should tell Chit that I've decided to forgive her, or least try to.

"Cookies?" she asks, and I nod and open the cabinets. "Peanut butter?" I ask her and grab the flour.

She raises her eyebrows, impressed. "You're going to make them? I was okay with Break 'n Bake, but if you can make them homemade, so much the better!"

"I'm not the best cook, but Karen taught me an easy peanut butter cookie recipe."

"Karen?" she asks, and my stomach drops. I didn't mean to bring up Karen. The last thing I want to do is make Chit uncomfortable. I turn away to turn on the oven and hide my embarrassed expression.

"You've met her?"

I can't read her tone, so I tread carefully. "Yeah . . . her daughter Jisoo is my friend . . . my best friend, really."

Chit hands me some bowls and a spoon, asking in a purposely neutral manner, "Oh . . . what is she like?"

I level off flour in a measuring cup and add it to the large mixing bowl, all the while trying to avoid eye contact. I don't know how to answer her. I don't want to lie, but I don't know how she feels about Marco or his new wife.

"You can tell me," Chit prods. "She's lovely," I admit.

She nods sharply. "I knew she would be."

"I didn't mean to bring her up, it just slipped out," I apologize.

She hands me a stick of butter. "No, honey, don't worry about it. I have no hard feelings toward that woman at all. Granted, I would love to hear that she's a dreadful troll." She laughs and relief washes through me. "But I'm glad Lisa's father is happy. I just wish Lisa would let go of her anger toward him."

"She has—" I begin, but stop abruptly when Lisa enters the kitchen. "She has what?" she asks.

I look to Lisa, then back to Chit. It's not my place to tell her if Lisa hasn't. "What are you guys talking about?" she asks.

"Your father," Chit answers, and her face pales. I can tell by her expression that she didn't intend to tell her about her budding relationship with her father.

"I didn't know . . ." I try to tell her, but she puts her hand up to silence me.

I hate how secretive she is; this is a problem we will always have, I assume.

"It's fine, Jen. I've been . . . sort of spending a little time with him." Lisa's cheeks flush.

Without thinking, I walk over to stand next to her. I'd expected her to be angry with me and lie to her mother, but I'm glad that she proved me wrong.

"You have?" Chit gasps.

"Yeah . . . I'm sorry, Mum. I didn't go near him until a few months ago, I got drunk and trashed his living room . . . but then I stayed the night a few times and we went to the wedding."

"You've been drinking again?" Her eyes begin to water. "Lisa, please tell me you haven't been drinking again?"

"No, Mum, only a couple times. Not like before," she promises.

Not like before? I know Lisa used to drink way too much, but Chit's reaction makes it seem like it was worse than I was led to believe.

"Are you mad that I've been seeing him?" she asks, and I put my hand on her back to try to comfort her.

"Oh, Lisa, I would never be upset with you for having a relationship with your father. I'm just surprised, that's all. You could have told me." She blinks rapidly to avoid tears. "I have wanted you to let go of that anger for so long. That was a dark time in our lives, but we got through it, and it's in the past. Your father isn't the same man he was then, and I'm not the same woman."

"It still doesn't make it okay," she says quietly.

"No, it doesn't. But sometimes you have to choose to let things go, to move on. I really am happy that you've been seeing him. It's good for you. The reason I sent you here . . . well, one of the reasons, was for you to forgive him."

"I didn't forgive him."

"You should," she says sincerely. "I have."

Lisa leans on her elbows on the counter and drops her head while I rub my hand up and down her back. Noticing the gesture, Chit gives me a knowing smile. Even more than before, I admire her so much. She's so strong and loving despite the lack of emotion from her daughter. I wish she had someone in her life, the way Marco has Karen.

Lisa must have been thinking the exact same thing, because she drops her head and says, "But he lives in this big-ass house and has expensive cars. He has a new wife . . . and you're alone."

"I don't care about his house or his money," she assures her. Then she smiles. "And what makes you think I'm alone?"

"What?" She raises her head.

"Don't sound so surprised! I'm quite the catch, daughter." "You're seeing someone? Who?"

"Mike." She blushes and my heart warms. Lisa's mouth gapes. "Mike? Your neighbor?"

"Yes, my neighbor. He's a very nice man, Lisa." She laughs and looks at me knowingly. "And it's convenient having him live just next door."

Lisa waves that off. "For how long? Why didn't you tell me?"

"A few months, it's nothing serious . . . yet. Besides, I don't think I should be asking you for relationship advice," she teases.

"Mike, though? He's sort of a . . ."

"Don't you say a bad word about him. You're not too old for a spanking," she scolds with a wry grin.

She raises her arms playfully. "Fine . . . fine . . ."

She's much more relaxed than she was this morning. The tension between us has disappeared, mostly, and watching her joke with her mother makes me so happy.

Chit announces cheerfully, "Excellent! I'm going to go pick the movie— don't come in there unless you bring cookies." She smiles and leaves us alone in the kitchen.

I walk back over to the bowl of ingredients and finish mixing the cookie dough. When I lick a glob of it off my finger, Lisa oh-so-helpfully notes, "I don't think that's very sanitary."

I dip my finger back into the bowl, collecting the sticky dough and walk over to her. "Have some," I tell her. I hold up my hand and try to transfer the dough to her fingers, but she opens her mouth and wraps her lips around my finger. I gasp at the contact and try to convince myself this is just her method of removing the cookie dough . . . regardless of how she's looking at me with dark eyes. No matter how she's flicking her warm tongue over my finger. No matter how many degrees the temperature of the kitchen has seemed to have risen. No matter how my heart is beating out of my chest and my insides are igniting.

"I think that's enough," I croak and pull my finger from her mouth. She gives me a wicked smirk. "Later, then."

THE PLATE OF COOKIES is devoured within the first ten minutes of the movie. I have to admit I'm proud of my newly acquired baking skills; Chit praises me and Lisa eats over half of the batch, which is praise in and of itself.

"Is it bad that these cookies are my favorite thing about America so far?" Chit laughs as she takes the last bite.

"Yes, very sad," Lisa teases her, and I giggle.

"You may have to make these every day until I leave, Jennie."

"Sounds good to me." I smile and lean into Lisa. One of her arms snakes behind me at my waist, and I fold my legs up so I can move even closer to her.

Chit falls asleep toward the end of the movie, and Lisa turns the volume down a bit so we can finish without waking her. By the end, I'm a sobbing mess and Lisa doesn't try to hide her humor at my despair. That was one of the saddest movies I've seen in my entire life; I have no idea how Chit fell asleep.

"That was terrible, amazing but terribly sad," I sob.

"Blame my mum. I requested a comedy, yet somehow we ended up with The Green Mile. I warned you." She moves her arm to my shoulder, pulling me closer and placing a gentle kiss on my forehead. "We can turn on Friends when we get to the room to get your mind off of him dy—"

"Lisa! Don't remind me!" I groan.

But she just chuckles before standing up off of the couch and pulling me by the arm to join her. When we get to the room, Lisa switches on the lamp and then the television.

When she goes over and locks the door, then turns to me with those bright green eyes and evil dimples, my insides quiver.