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She pinches her lips together, then slowly nods.
“I can be an asshole, but I amnotthat kind of asshole.”
“Promise?” she whispers. “Because I really, really,reallylike it here. And not just because it’s Christmas and we have an awful, wonderful tree and the best worst holiday music. I like you. A lot. And I want to stay as long as you’ll let me.”
I shove the tree out of the way, toppling it sideways onto the couch, because it’s the fastest way to reach her. “I want you to stay forever.”
She drops her head to my chest and wraps her arms around my waist. “For real?”
“We’re both a little lost.” I kiss her hair, wish I had the strength right now to pick her up and carry her to the bedroom, but settle for squeezing her tighter instead. “And there’s no one else I’d rather find myself again with than you.”
She laughs, but it sounds more like a sob. “This is like a dream come true.”
“Itisa dream come true.”
The last thing I’ve ever believed in is Christmas miracles.
But I have my very own right here in my arms, and I’m never letting her go.
Jude bangs on the door. “Not kidding. I’m going ice skating without you if you don’t get your asses in gear, and I’m only buying funnel cake for people who are with me.”
Meg sucks in an outraged breath.
And I start laughing.
Of course she loves funnel cake.
Of courseshe does.
That’s so Meg.
And I love it.
“Alternatively, I could buy you your very own funnel cake maker for Christmas,” I murmur to her.
“How about we do both?” she replies.
God, this woman.
She’s brighter than all the holiday lights in the world put together.
And I can’t wait to spend the rest of my days deserving her.
MEG
If you’d told me a month ago that I’d be falling asleep on Christmas Eve in the arms of the man I’ve secretly crushed on for years, who’s so much better as a boyfriend—yes, officially as myboyfriend—than I ever imagined he could be, I would’ve told you that you were crazy.
Yet here we are, with a small live tree in the corner of his bedroom, decorated with little mementos of the past few days that we’ve spent with my brother doing all of our favorite holiday traditions and some decidedlynotholiday-ish activities that willabsolutelybecome traditions. I set out cookies for Santa, knowing full well that Trevor will sneak out of bed in the middle of the night and make it look like the jolly old elf came, merely to make me happy.
Jude’s been staying in a hotel nearby to give us privacy, but he’s coming by for breakfast in the morning.
Provided it doesn’t snow as much as the forecast is calling for, that is.
My belly is full of my favorite appetizers and wine, and everything is cozy and perfect.
I’m only half dozing, because I love the sound of Trevor’s regular breathing, and I don’t want to miss a moment of this absolutely perfect feeling.
And that’s why I hear it.
