Page 112 of Love Overdose: St. Louis

“I know.” She rose and kissed Malik’s forehead. “But I want to wake up in my own bed.”

Elijah stood. “I’ll drive you.”

“I have my car.”

“I’ll follow you home in my car and come back.”

Amelia glanced at me as Elijah reached for his coat.

“If you insist,” she said. “You can follow me.”

She hugged me near the door.

“Merry Christmas, baby.”

“Merry Christmas, Mama.”

Her gaze moved over my shoulder to where Malik sat surrounded by gifts, then toward Elijah as he helped her into her coat.

She squeezed my hand. “I like seeing you happy.”

My throat tightened. “I am.”

“I know.”

“Bye, bye, Malik.”

She was still trying to get that bye out of him, but with tired eyes he just looked at her and smiled.

Elijah returned twenty minutes later with snow melting across the shoulders of his coat. I met him near the door and brushed the flakes from the wool.

“Did she get inside safely?”

“Yes.”

He removed his shoes and looked toward the living room. Malik had fallen asleep. His head rested against the chair's support, the remote still loose in his hand. Colored light moved over his face as the tree changed from gold to red.

Elijah went to him.

He turned off the Batmobile, then lifted Malik carefully from the chair. Malik stirred but didn’t wake. His cheek settled against Elijah’s shoulder while one arm rested between them. I followed them down the hall. Elijah placed him in bed and helped me change his position. I adjusted the pillow beneath his head and checked the monitor near the nightstand.

Malik’s eyes opened briefly. “Merry Christmas, baby,” I whispered.

His fingers moved against the blanket. I kissed his cheek. Elijah pulled the blanket over him, tucking it loosely around his body. Before we left the room, he placed the new Spider-Man figure on the nightstand beside Malik’s lamp. The Christmas music was quieter when we returned to the living room. Only the tree and mantel lights remained on. Snow continued to fall, muting the street beyond the windows.

Elijah stopped beneath the mistletoe Journey had fastened over the doorway the week before. I looked above his head.

“She put that there for her own entertainment.”

“I’ve noticed it every time I’ve entered this room.”

“And you waited until now?”

His hand curved around the back of my neck and he kissed me slowly. His lips warmed mine while the lights shifted across my closed eyes. I slid my arms around his waist beneath his sweater and rested my hands against his back.

When he lifted his mouth, he didn’t release me.

“Merry Christmas,” he said.