The storm hadn’t letup by morning. If anything, it had gotten worse overnight, ice coating every surface, causing the branches from the trees directly out her window to snap. The world outside Stella’s loft had been transformed into something that looked like a snow globe. It was beautiful, but it was definitely going to cause major chaos around town.
Stella was still asleep, her face pressed into my chest, one leg thrown over mine like she was afraid I’d escape if she didn’t keep me pinned down. Her dark hair fanned out behind her across the pillow in a tangled mess, and there was a faint bruise blooming on her collarbone where I’d gotten a little too enthusiastic last night. I traced the mark lightly with my fingertip, remembering exactly how it had gotten there. The way she’d gasped when I bit down on that spot. The way her nails had dug into my shoulders.
“Stop watching me sleep,” she mumbled without opening her eyes. “It’s creepy.”
“Can’t help it. You’re cute when you’re unconscious.”
“Seriously, man? Extra creepy. Also, I’m never cute.” She cracked one eye open and glared at me with as much menace as someone could manage while still half-asleep and fully naked. “I’m terrifying and badass.”
“You’re cuteandterrifying.”
She made a noncommittal sound and burrowed closer, her hand sliding across my stomach in a way that was definitely going to lead somewhere if I didn’t redirect this conversation.
I caught her wandering hand before it could reach its intended destination, my dick giving a half-hearted protest at being denied more fun.
“Hey. I need to talk to you about something.”
She opened both of her eyes and pushed herself up on one elbow to look at me, suddenly wide awake. “That’s never a good opening line.”
“It’s not bad. I just …” I cleared my throat, suddenly nervous in a way I hadn’t been since I’d first kissed her last New Year’s Eve. “My dad texted. He invited us to Christmas dinner tomorrow.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Us? As in, you and me?”
“Yeah.”
“He knows we’re …?” She gestured vaguely between us.
“Together? Yeah. Colin told him, apparently.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Look, I know it’s a lot to ask. My old man’s not exactly warm and fuzzy. He doesn’t do feelings or heart-to-hearts. But he’s been trying lately to be better. And it would mean something if you came.”
Stella studied my face for a long moment, and I could practically see the wheels in her head turning. I knew what she was thinking. She’d grown up knowing my dad as the guy who showed up drunk to Little League games, the one who frequently forgot to pick me up—from school, from their house.From everywhere, really. The man who’d let his grief turn him into someone angry and unrecognizable.
But he’d been sober for three years now. Went to his meetings, worked his program, showed up when he said he would. He’d never be the dad I needed when I was a kid, but he was trying to be something now. It didn’t undo all the damage he’d caused along the way, but it was something.
“Okay,” she said finally.
“Okay? That easy?”
“Yeah. I’ll come.” She poked me in the chest, her nail digging into my sternum. “But you owe me.”
“Name it.”
“I’ll think of something.” She started to lie back down, but I caught her wrist.
She gave me a look that was half curiosity, half suspicion.
“Wait,” I told her. “There’s something else.”
“Jesus, Cade.” She sat up fully now, the duvet slipping down to her waist. “How many bombs are you dropping this morning?”
“Just one more. I promise.” I wiped my suddenly-damp palms on the blanket. “I have a Christmas gift for you.”
Her expression softened immediately, her shoulders relaxing. “Cade, you didn’t have to?—”
“I know that, but Iwantedto. Only, you can’t open it in front of anyone tomorrow. It’s …personal.”
A slow, wicked smile spread across her face, and I knew exactly where her mind had gone. “Did you buy me a sex toy, Murphy?”
I felt my face go hot, heat crawling up my neck. “What? No. I mean—” Fuck. “That’s not the gift I’m talking about.”
