Snow shifts on the floor until her knee is against my thigh and she’s facing me more with Willow in the crook of her legs. “I love that it’s cold outside. Not chilly, but actually cold. So cold that you feel it in your bones and your ears and nose hurt, and your muscles ache because you’re trying to hold onto so much warmth. And you come home to a room filled with colorful light. The old-school lights that make everything sort of fuzzy. Not these new ones that are just too bright and too clear. And then having the decorations twinkling in those lights, the dusty smell because each decoration is so old but you never part with it. It just exudes… warmth and comfort, and I love it. I love it so much.”
As she talks, her face lights up as if she’s comforted by memories flooding through her mind. I understand every detail, though.
There’s something about Christmas that just can’t be replicated at any other time.
“And when it’s so dark outside and you sit with a mug of hot chocolate and watch some old movie where the audio crackles…” She presses her lips together and points at me with her crust. “That’s what I love.”
“And you call me old.” I snort softly.
“Maybe I’m an old soul. Or I’m just lonely. Who knows? Caleb didn’t care about any of that stuff. I mean, he said he did and I thought we bonded, but when the time came, he just didn’t.”
“I’m sorry.”
She shrugs and chews slowly. “It’s whatever. What about you?”
A pang moves through my chest. “Christmas was Claire’s. Not mine.”
“Oh.” Snow visibly winces. “Did I… with the decorations and stuff, did I…?”
“No.” Swiftly taking her free hand, I squeeze affectionately. “Please don’t worry about that. What I mean is… my family isn’t known for their warmth. Outside of Thea, there wasn’t really anything like that. Claire and I were childhood sweethearts, and I knew she loved Christmas so I would go all out each year. Those decorations you found… they remind me of her.”
Snow watches me with wide eyes, barely noticing Willow attempting to chew on what’s left of her crust.
“We always did it together. It’s uhm…” Emotion suddenly rises in my throat and my smile wavers. “I worked. And to an extent, she lived. Everything was bright and happy with her. It sounds cliché, I know, but she would be the warmth I came home to. She decorated for everything and I thought I loved it too, but when she passed… I couldn’t look at them even though I thought I loved them. And I couldn’t throw them away. I couldn’t understand how none of it sparkled anymore, like there was no color and no light left in them. So I boxed them up and hid them.”
Warmth stings at the back of my eyes and I blink quickly. “That day I came home and you’d decorated… it hit me like a punch square in my chest.” My other hand lifts to my chest and I massage slightly. “And I don’t at all mean this to imply that you are in any way a replacement of any kind, please believe me. It just made me realize that what I loved, what Ienjoyed, was theperson. Not the decorations. Lights are just lights without someone to share it with, and I hadn’t felt that in so many years that I’d almost forgotten how… howmagicalthis time of year can feel. Even if it’s just for a little while, everything does feelwarmer and fuzzier around the edges. It’s like I said before… something about you thawed me, Snow. And I?—”
My voice trembles and Snow’s brows lift to her hairline, then her hand tightens in mine.
“I fear that what I say will make you feel like a stand-in or a replacement and I don’t want to place that kind of pressure on you, and it would be a disservice to how much I enjoy your company. But you’ve made me feel alive again. Even this…” I glance around at the pizza and cats. “It’s so mundane and yet it’s so nice. I feel like I’m living again, like I can talk about things again. Even Claire. I feel like…” I catch myself, bottling up my honesty before I spill more than Snow is ready to hear. “What I’m trying to say is I understand the magic of Christmas and how you feel because you have brought that back to me. And now I’m rambling because I feel like I’ve said too much and I’m a little exposed here.”
As a dry, nervous laugh rushes past my lips, Snow abandons her crust and quickly moves Willow so she can slide closer to me and cup my jaw with her warm hand.
“Xander, that might be the most honest you’ve ever been and if anyone at work heard you talk this much about Christmas, they’d probably think something was wrong.” Her smile widens and the warmth pouring from her almost overwhelms me. “But you can trust me.”
She leans in and presses a sweet, brief kiss to my lips.
“I don’t feel like a replacement or a stand-in or anything like that. Claire was important to you and you should talk about those feelings. I’m here to listen. Just like you listen to me talk about Caleb. If it feels right, then it feels right.”
The warmth behind my eyes begins to sting. I shift myself on the floor and draw Snow fully into my arms while she winds her arms around my neck. “I think you would have liked Claire,” I murmur, brushing my nose against hers. “Thank you.”
“If she liked you half as much as I do, I bet we would have been friends.” Snow chuckles softly, her breath ghosting over my lips. “But I mean it. You can trust me. Our past makes us who we are. If it feels right to talk about, then we talk about it, deal? You’ve helped me so much, Xander. Let me help you when you need it.”
My craving for her rises, and I seal my mouth over hers, kissing her deeply until my lungs burn and her grip on me tightens, signaling her need for air.
I break the kiss but pepper smaller kisses around her mouth as my heart soars with happiness.
It’s a small thing that most take for granted with family and friendship networks far bigger than mine, but it means the world.
“Deal.”
29
SNOW
“It’s insane to me that your shower fits two people,” I murmur, uncaring whether the spray steals my words away from Xander.
Four a.m. cold pizza on the kitchen floor turned into a heart-to-heart, which led us into bed together and the best sleep I could have had after such a crazy day.
