“So is that a yes?” he murmured, squeezing me a little tighter.
“What do you mean?” I looked up at him. “Yes what?”
He dropped his mouth so that it rested against my ear. “Do you care about me too?” he whispered.
“Care” didn’t come close to describing how I felt. How could I put a word to the maddening, all-consuming, decade-long mess of emotions I’d felt for the man?
I dragged the back of my hand under my nose, which made the tears and snot situation I was dealing with even worse. I eased away from his chest to look into his eyes then shook my head slowly. “No, I don’t care about you,” I whispered back. I took a moment to collect myself before I said the words I’d always felt in my bones. “Iloveyou.”
His arms went even tighter around me and he buried his face against my neck. I finally allowed myself to believe it. I was drowsy from the day, but my brain kept replaying our history with the new filter he’d given me as we held each other. Looking back with it now shifted every interaction we’d ever had.
He’d loved me all along.
I sat up abruptly. “You didn’t say it.”
“Hm?” he asked, sounding as sleepy as I felt.
“You said you loved me in the text, but you haven’t said—”
He silenced me with a kiss that erased any of my questions, then pulled away slowly, still cupping my face in his hand. His thumb stroked my cheek, drinking me in with the look I’d been so wrong about. “I love you, Chelsea Higgins. Always have, always will.”
He drew me closer, then pulled the blanket off the back of the couch to cover us. Both Edith and Birdie wandered in and gave us a pleading look, glancing at the couch then up to our faces.
“Damn. I sort of wanted to celebrate with you under this blanket,” Andrew said, raising an eyebrow meaningfully. “But your chaperones have other ideas.”
I laughed. “They’ll be asleep in a few minutes, then we can go to my room.”
He patted the couch and they jumped up and settled in on either side of us. “I’ll grab Dude in a bit and we can make our own holiday party.”
Not the type of party I’d ever pictured him enjoying, but now that I’d come to know the real Andrew, it made perfect sense. We sat looped around one another on the couch as the snow fell outside my window and the light faded.
Sothiswas Christmas. Another year over, and a new journey just beginning.
one year later
I still can’t believe you talked me into throwing this party in December.”
Andrew was helping me unload wine from my car in preparation for the reopening party for both the School of Frolic and Crush in our new and improved larger spaces. I’d managed to convince him to not call it the Merry Swolemas Grand Reopening. Merry Chrismutt sounded so much better, but we’d agreed to calling it a “Grand Reopening” sans puns.
“You’ll thank me when it’s over,” he said. “Better to do it now so we can relax a little after the New Year.”
I looked over at his side of the building and scowled, my breath making a cloud in the cold air. “Andrew, come on! You’re parked too close to the door again. We’ve talked about this.”
“Hey, you get special privileges when you’re sleeping with the landlord. Once I get her in bed she says yes to anything I want.” He winked at me as he hoisted two boxes filled with bottles.
“She begs to differ. Move your car before you forget, please.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He clicked his heels at me and I chased behind him for a few steps to try to kick him in the rear.
It was still hard to believe that everything had fallen into place so perfectly. Andrew had managed to charm his way out of the new lease he’d signed since the ink wasn’t even dry yet, and our contractors had completed the renovation on the building in record time. We’d split Roz’s old space down the middle, increasing both of our footprints. Now I had two new employees, Isabella and Jordan, a booked-to-capacity board and train day school, and a waiting list despite all the new offerings on my calendar.
Andrew’s business was flourishing as well thanks to strong word-of-mouth recommendations. And more importantly, he was now training his own father after an unfortunate pond-skimming injury. Gerard made it to Crush three times a week, rain or shine.
I grabbed the remaining bottles of wine and followed behind him to the building that felt like as much of a home to both of us as the little schoolhouse we now shared with Birdie, Dude, and Edith. The outside of the building looked much the same as it had the night we’d run into each other a year prior, except the parking lot had doubled in size and there were dependable surveillance cameras in place. The raccoons were still attempting nightly garbage bin raids, but Myrtle had moved on to living a lush indoor life with my mom. The fact that the woman had managed to tame the wild cat was both a mystery and not at all surprising.
I still loved walking in the door on my side of the building. Not only because the space was gorgeous, but because it was truly mine. In a way it felt like everything I did there, every bit of forward momentum, was a tribute to my dad. He was the reason for so many of the new beginnings in our lives, from hisnamesake grandson to the business that was growing faster than I could keep up with. And in a roundabout way, I had him to thank for Andrew as well. It had taken me far too long to realize that the very things that used to drive me crazy about Andrew were the same things I loved about my dad. The two men would’ve adored each other.
“Just leave everything in the corner,” I directed. “We still need to—”
