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Chapter Fifty

Alex

Every year, when I come home for the holidays to spend time with my family, I end up feeling like shit.

I can only tolerate my parents for so long before my mother has too many martinis and starts trying to set me up on dates, or before Savannah and Austen start their whisper arguments that they think no one notices.

Usually, I put in my hours on Christmas morning at my parents’ and peace the fuck out by the afternoon so I can spend time with Britt and the girls.

I would usually leave before New Years, because Ashbourne is boring as fuck, and end up drunk in my condo while waiting for someone who rarely showed up when I wanted him to. But this year’s different.

My pain-in-the-ass parents have decided in the wake of the crisis known as my brother’s divorce, that they are going to be in sunny Italy, and I wasn’t about to protest. It’s kind of a relief, honestly.

So I did something I have never done before, because with them gone, I felt like it was the right thing to do.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” I ask as I run a hand through my hair.

Jordan stares at me over his French toast bake, his hair messy from our Christmas morning fuck.

We hadn’t talked about getting each other anything, but I wasn’t about to let one of my favorite past times go to waste.

Part of me expected him to bitch about all the stuff I bought him, and maybe I sort of did it to get him all bitchy and riled up, so I’d pay for it later.

But he wasn’t as mad as I thought he’d be, so clearly I need to up the budget next time.

Next time. The thought lands. I smile, thinking about the next time. Whenever that is.

“Austen will be there, so it’s not that weird,” he says, but I see the panic in his eyes.

“And Britt and… the kids.” I swallow nervously.

He’s never been Brittany’s biggest fan. I don’t know how much he knows about our current relationship other than we have one.

I haven’t talked about it, knowing how he used to feel.

But with Bentley soaking up most of her energy these days, and the fact she’s hosted me for every holiday since she and Christian bought their house, it felt like the right thing to do.

But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous.

It’s not like anyone knows about us. It’s just Christmas dinner at my house.

With friends. It’s not a launch or anything, but it’s the first time all the most important people in my life will be in the same fucking room, so it’s a little nerve-wrecking.

And maybe I’m a little curious to see how he’ll react to the girls.

I keep thinking about that night, the one when I was convinced he’d never pick me.

When he openly admitted he wanted to get married and have kids…

with her. I know now it wasn’t true, but I don’t think it was a lie either.

Not with the way he looked at me when he answered her.

Still, it’s not a conversation we’ve had.

Us. The future.

I don’t want to rush things, and I know I can be impatient, so I just… don’t ask. I don’t bring it up, even though I want to.

Things have been good with us. Really good, despite the fact no one knows we’re together.

I wish I could tell everyone. I wish I could scream from the top of my lungs that this man fucking loves me, but I need to be patient.

Patience is not my strongest virtue, but I’ve waited this long, thinking I’d never have this .

I wasn’t sure he wouldn’t clam up and find some way to stay home tonight.

His eyebrows furrow, and before he can argue, I say, “Kearstin said she’d drop by. ”

He stabs a thick piece of French toast and twists his lips as he looks up at me. The room looks brighter because of all the snow outside, and the red cabinets shine perfectly against the sight.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” he says gruffly, but I hear the nervousness in his voice. It echoes my own.

“Okay,” I say as I sit next to him on his too-soft couch. He leans back into the cushions, his plate in his hand. The sports announcers drone on and on about a bunch of stuff I have no clue about because I’m too busy watching him.

“I should head out soon,” I say, contemplating canceling this whole fucking dinner just so I can stay here with him, surrounded by wrapping paper and rolling hills of snow.

Winter looks amazing at his place. Like something straight out of a Hallmark movie.

“Turkey ain’t going to cook itself,” I say with a smirk.

I leave an hour later than I wanted to, fully because I was too comfortable on the couch cuddling my boyfriend.

We haven’t talked about labels, but he’s still here.

He’s staying at my house three nights a week and he’s told me a handful of times how much he loves me—usually in the middle of sex, but I’m not complaining because it’s the best praise ever—so I tell myself it’s okay.

He’s my boyfriend, whether he says it or not.

Austen is the first to show up with a bottle of wine, looking awkward as hell, but I’m more than glad to see him.

Britt and the kids arrive next, like a tornado.

Christian camps out on my couch and immediately puts the game on.

Jordan arrives seconds after Britt, and is walking through the door just as I’m picking up Lucy for a hug.

I meet his gaze, and for a moment, time and my heart stop.

I’ve never wanted to kiss him so badly, but I know I can’t. Not here, not like this. Not yet.

Maybe someday. He looks from me to the wriggling four -year-old in my arms.

“Who are you?” Sarah blurts, and I can’t help but laugh. Lucy turns, eyeing him up like prey. I swear she can smell fear, and he looks terrified.

“This is Jordan; he’s a friend .” I say the word delicately. “Uncle Alex’s very good friend. Jordan, this is Lucifer. She can smell fear—” Lucy giggles in my arms.

“That’s not my name!”

I ignore her as she glares at me.

“This is Sarah.” I nod to Sarah, who is hiding behind my legs. I whisper loudly, “My number one bestie.”

Lucy protests my words, but I just give her a tighter squeeze .

“Mack.” Britt’s smooth voice is full of mischief. I’m sure I’ll hear about this for years to come, and no doubt she’ll try to pry the details from me later.

“Britt.” He clears his throat. “Nice to see you.”

She smiles brightly, holding up the newest addition to the family. “And this little peanut is Bentley.”

For a moment, I think Jordan’s going to hightail it out of here. He looks like a deer in headlights. But he shakes it off just as Austen rounds the bend.

“Mack! Hey!”

Jordan relaxes, and I breathe easier as they hug and Austen drags him over to the couch to sit with Christian.

“Very good friend, huh?” Britt says with humor.

“Don’t start with me; it’s Christmas,” I huff out as I set Lucy down and head for the kitchen.

Britt says nothing, but I feel her grinning gaze on me like a fire.

I’m starting to get overwhelmed with all the pots and pans, and I can’t remember what the timer that just went off was for. I start to panic when I see Austen standing at the island with a sympathetic look on his face.

“Need some help?” he asks carefully.

“Physically or mentally?” I ask.

He laughs, and I can’t help but feel like things are different with us, too. Since he filed for divorce, he’s been a whole different person .

It hits me all over again, and I don’t think I’ll ever get over it.

My brother being in love with his best friend.

My brother being not straight. My brother upending his life.

Divorce isn’t easy no matter the circumstance, but I can’t say I’m not happy to see him leave Savannah.

I never could stand her, and she treated him like shit.

I know, that’s the pot calling the kettle fucking black over here, but I digress.

“You can, uh… start the gravy?” I ask.

He nods and without question, heads for the stove to whisk it.

We chat about his move, about the progress of the building he bought.

About his shitty little apartment, and I can’t deny he sounds happy.

The sounds of the game and hollers echo from the living room.

When I look up, I see Jordan and Christian tearing their hair out as Britt rolls her eyes, Bentley in her arms. Lucy and Sarah are giggling as they chase one another up and down the hall.

My heart thumps, and I feel the strangest swell of tears prickling the edges of my eyes.

This is what this house was supposed to be. Full of life. Love. Family.

“You okay?” Austen asks as he grabs the bowl of mashed potatoes.

“Yeah,” I say, my voice shaking. I shove off the emotion, not wanting weepy Alex to ruin the mood. When I look up, Austen is looking at me with a knowing gaze .

“Okay.”

When I turn my head, I see Jordan is watching me with an equally odd gaze.

I shove the vicious hope aside and announce with a smile that dinner is ready.

It’s an absolute frenzy getting the girls seated and still. I offer to watch Bentley so Britt can eat, but she tells me to go pound salt, and I know better than to argue with her. Once she gets Bentley down in the pack ‘n play, she joins us.

The sun shines through the window, catching the chandelier and everything shines brighter.

Kearstin shows up for dessert. The girls open their presents after dinner, and I get dirty looks from both Britt and Christian because I went overboard. I always do, and that’s not going to change.

Austen is the first to leave, since he wants to drive through the night to get back to New York. I told him he could stay here, but he likes his alone time. He’s always been like that.

It’s nearing eight when Britt and Christian are ready to go. Lucy is passed out on me while Christian carries Sarah out to the car. I carefully get Lucy into her seat while he does the same with Sarah.

“Thanks for having us, Alex,” Christian says awkwardly .