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“Does that count as primal play?” Arne returned my grin.

“Mm, I don’t know, Princess. Did chasing me make you hard?” My hand dropped to his dick.

“Maybe a little.” Arne hummed. “You are so hot on skates. I love to watch you move.”

We took our Christmas tree to his parents’ house.

“Happy Lillejuleaften!” Ida greeted me with a hug. “Get in here, boys. You can set the tree up straight away. Your father is in the shed getting the ornaments.”

We took off our boots and coats. I followed Arne into the living room. It was a clean and minimalist place and looked a bit like a showroom for a Scandinavian home. It was so freaking cosy, though, and not just because of the fire burning in the wood burner.

“Ah, Max, hello. It’s good to see you again.”

Arne’s dad entered the room, two large plastic containers in his arms.

Everyone sounded genuinely happy to see me, even…

Arne plopped to his knees to greet a wriggling short-haired dog. The animal yipped and licked his ears, then it noticed me.

“Baby, this is my parents’ dog, Lasse.” Aksel Bendixen shot me a glance when his son addressed me thus.

“Hi.” I extended my hand to the animal, and it sniffed it cautiously. His tail resumed its wagging until the entire dog shook with excitement. Lasse licked my hands and jumped up to get closer to my face.

“He likes you.” Arne squeezed my shoulder. “Want to help me deck the tree?”

“Oh, yes.” I didn’t know why it made me happy that the family dog liked me, but it did.

We had a lovely lunch with his family. I thought it couldn’t get any better.

Thirty-one

Arne

It was the most magical Christmas ever, yet time passed way too fast.

We had all the food and went for a long walk with my parents and Lasse. We stood around the tree holding hands and ate some more.

At least I get to share it with the love of my life.

Max had shared his wishlist with me, yet he seemed shocked when my parents gave him a bunch of books, mostly manga.

“Wow, thank you, I…” His voice trailed off, and I thought he would start to cry.

Aw, Raven. Get used to the Bendixen family treatment.

He gave them a box of traditional Austrian sweets and a woven blanket made from sheep’s wool. It looked expensive and fit their decor perfectly.

How did he know what to buy for them?

I wanted Max to have a token of my love.

“Thank you, Arne,” he muttered as he accepted the small box from me. Before he opened it he pulled a small, flat present from his pocket.

“You bought a present for me?” I asked him incredulously.

“It reminded me of you and I—yeah, I did. You got something for me, too, didn’t you?”

“I did. Can I open it?”