Page 62 of Holiday Crush
“Not true. It’s what IthoughtI wanted. Not anymore.” I dropped his hand and paced to the counter, hoping inspiration would strike ’cause I wasn’t sure how to do this and I wanted to do it right. “I lost my way a long time ago, Ive. I played not to lose, and I forgot why I loved hockey. Getting cut from the team was the second-best thing that ever happened to me. I needed to get my ass kicked, and I needed to relearn some basics. Vinnie was right about that. But the very best thing that happened to me was you.”
Ivan blinked like an owl at daybreak. “I…”
“I love you, Ive.”
His breath hitched audibly. “You…”
“I love you,” I repeated. “No one makes me laugh like you do, no one makes my heart beat like a helicopter at takeoff, and no one has ever pointed out what’s been there all along. Look, I’ve never been in love, and I’m probably fucking this up. You might not be ready for a real relationship, and that’s okay. We can go slow, we can—”
Ivan launched into my arms and wrapped himself around me like a koala. Our mouths collided in a fervent kiss that tasted like peppermint and home.
We broke for air eventually and shared a shy smile.
“I love you too. I don’t need to go slow, I don’t need to think about it. I’m already gone for you. So gone.”
“Me too, Ive.” I held his face in my hands and flicked the ball from his Santa hat out of his eyes. “Merry Christmas, baby.”
“Merry Christmas.”
An acapella version of “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” played from the speakers, and the heater blew on the snowflakes above us, twisting them like the ones drifting gently outside the window. It was beautiful. No, it was magical. A perfect backdrop to a perfect moment…and a perfect beginning.
This incredible, amazing man gazing at me with love and affection was mine. I was ready to let go of foggy notions of fame and fortune, success and failure. I didn’t need accolades for my hockey prowess. I’d remembered who I was and I knew where I wanted to be.
At home…in Elmwood. With Ivan.
EPILOGUE
“Maybe Christmas,” he thought, “doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas…perhaps…means a little bit more!”— Dr. Suess,How the Grinch Stole Christmas!
Two yearslater
Ivan
The basement staircase was dauntingly narrow. Was it even possible to drag a five-foot faux tree to the living room without dismantling it?Please tell me there’s no math involved here.If I was going to have to figure out circumference and height calculations, I might as well throw in the towel now. Or wait for my boyfriend to get home.
And right on cue, the front door creaked open and heavy footsteps echoed from above.
“Hey, honey, I’m home.”
Okay, folks…gotta admit, that greeting from that man would never get old.
“I’m in the basement, behind this enormous tree!” I called out.
More footsteps, then a sigh.
“Really, Ive?”
I peeked around the black branches and nodded enthusiastically. “I love it and I want it in the great room so we can enjoy it for the holidays.”
“Ive…”
“We don’t have much furniture at the moment, so it’ll fill up some space and add some spice.” I ducked my head and did jazz hands, hoping to make him laugh, adding, “Besides, it’s sad down here all by itself.”
Court snorted but gamely came to the rescue and took over schlepping duties while I acted as a guide, directing him through the kitchen and into our cavernous great room. He fluffed the branches with me, then stepped aside and draped his arm over my shoulders.
“Are you sure you don’t want it in the living room? It’s kind of tradition to have the live tree and the spooky one together.”
I grinned up at my handsome bear of a man and hooked my thumb in his belt loop. I couldn’t help it. I was a sappy romantic at the end of the day, and I loved that Court and I had traditions of our own. It felt incredibly significant that we were carrying those traditions into our new home.