The row of townhouses we pass is decorated with huge wreaths on doors, and garland on the banisters. We got a bitof snow two days ago, so the trees are still covered in white, adding to the holiday vibes on the block. I’ve enjoyed the view every night as Christmas trees light up bay windows and Christmas music filters out from the homes we walk past. It’s these moments that I miss Harlan the most. He loved everything about our street during the holidays.
Once Craig is satisfied with how many trees and bushes he peed on, we return home. Scanning the parked cars, I still don’t see my sister’s rental. She’s been gone for over an hour, and I’m prepared to demand answers from my parents and brother when we get inside. There are also no messages or calls from Harlan. “Fuck this,” I mutter, my mood souring further.
“Watch your language,papito,” my mother calls out sharply from down the hall. I have no idea how she even heard me, but I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s been like that our whole lives. No matter how quiet we think we’re being, Mama always knows.
“Mama, I’m thirty-two. I can say ‘fuck’ in my own house,” I retort. I hear her mutter about “rude children” in Spanish, and I laugh despite myself. I find my father passed out on the chair, snoring loudly, and Enrique sprawled on the couch, scrolling through his phone. I wish I could be as relaxed as them, but since I’m not, I scroll to Harlan’s number and dial. It rings twice before I get sent to voicemail.
“I’m back!” Antonella’s shout has me on my feet, ready to confront her for her sketchy behavior. It doesn’t make sense that I’m that annoyed, except that I feel like I’ve been left out of something. Rounding the corner to the foyer, I come face-to-face with Harlan. He’s got dark circles under his eyes, and his lids are heavy with exhaustion. My sister is standing next to him, grinning like the Cheshire cat. “You’re welcome,” she singsongs.
“Harlan! Amor! Merry Christmas,” my mother cries as she hurries down the hall to embrace him. She immediately bursts into tears, telling him how good he looks and how much she’smissed him, as she squeezes him. I watch him melt into her arms as his own tears fall down his face.
“I’ve missed you too, Mama,” he whispers, pulling her even closer. The commotion has my brother and father entering the foyer. Neither looks surprised by Harlan’s presence. Their lack of shock explains everyone’s behavior at breakfast. I’ll get the details later, but for now, I need to fight off my family to get my hands on Harlan. I’m not given a chance, as my father immediately replaces my mother, to hug our unexpected—at least to me—arrival.
“We’re so glad you’re here, Lan,” my father says. “Holidays aren’t the same without you.” My father is significantly more reserved in his greeting, but his affection has the most profound effect on Harlan. When Dad kisses Harlan’s cheek, a small sob escapes Lan’s lips. In countless ways over the years, my father has provided Harlan with the paternal support that Noah Bishop is incapable of.
Once everyone is satisfied that they’ve showered enough attention on him, they scatter to allow us some privacy, and without a word, he’s collapsing against me. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I kiss the top of his head. “I left. Obviously,” he laughs, without humor. “I’m sorry for showing up unannounced.”
“You never have to apologize for showing up here. You look exhausted. Do you want to talk about it? Are you hungry? Do you want to go upstairs and take a nap?” My rapid-fire questions have him giving me a sleepy smile.
“Thank you. I am. Later. No. Yes,” he rattles off a response to each question, and I huff a laugh into his hair.
“Ok, sweetness. Head upstairs, take a shower. You know where my clothes are. Change into something comfortable and get some sleep. I’ll come wake you up when it’s time to eat.” I spin him toward the stairs, but he freezes.
“This isn’t weird? I can go home,” he says, uncertain. I want to gather him in my arms, carry him to bed, and keep him there. I’ve no clue what happened with his parents, but I know it had to be bad enough that he’s standing in front of me.
“Absolutely not. You’re not spending Christmas alone. Not that Mama would let you leave.” He’ll be lucky if she lets him leave at all while she’s here, honestly. My mother is going to spoil him rotten, especially after not seeing him for so long.
Harlan still hesitates at the foot of the stairs. “Will you nap with me?” My heart stutters, but I don’t have to think about it before I agree. There’s nothing I’d rather do in this moment.
“Yeah, baby. Let me tell them to wake us up for dinner. Go shower and change, and I’ll be right behind you.” I usher him upstairs before going to find my mother, and she shoos me out of the kitchen with a promise that we won’t miss the meal.
I detour to the living room, where my sister is on the couch, and I pull her to her feet and hug her tight. “Don’t let that boy go, Dare. He’s hopelessly in love with you. He’s meant to be yours. He’s meant to beours.”
“We have a lot we need to talk about, Antonella. It’s not that simple,” I counter. Love hasn’t been the issue. I’ve never stopped loving Harlan. His heart is as familiar to me as my own. Down to the very core of who I am, I know that I will never love anyone the way that I love him. I’m so terrified of losing him again. I don’t know that either of us could survive it.
“You two will figure it out. You don’t keep finding your way back to someone the way you two have if you weren’t meant to be together. He’s your soulmate. Like fated mates shit. Some people spend a lifetime looking for the type of love you have. Now go love him.” She gives me a firm shove. “It’s been a rough couple of days for him.”
In my room, I find Lan sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at his hands. He doesn’t look up when I take the spot next tohim. “Being in this room feels like coming home,” he whispers. His hair is still damp from the shower, and he’s in a pair of my flannel pants and a plain white T-shirt. The only thing that would make this better is if he smelled like his soap.
“I missed having you in this room.” I let the truth of that settle around us. “I missed you so much when you were gone, but I think it hit me the most in here.” I feel him inhale, only just realizing how closely we’re sitting.
“Dare, I—” he begins, but I cut him off.
“Can I kiss you, sweetness?” Like magnets, we move toward each other. I force myself to stop until he answers. We’ve taken enough from each other—each in our own ways—over the last year. I want him to want this. I need to know that he’s feeling exactly what I’m feeling. Lifting my hand to his cheek, I stroke his bottom lip. The soft puff of breath on the pad of my thumb lights every nerve ending in my body, and he nods before he closes the distance between us.
The moan that escapes his lips nearly undoes me. He tastes exactly how I remember. A lot has changed, but so much has remained the same. Namely, our chemistry. It’s incendiary, and I’m afraid that if we ignite it again, nothing will remain of either of us. Harlan seems content to light the match, despite it all.
I feed a desperate groan into his willing mouth as our tongues pick up right where they left off. Fisting my hand in his hair, I do my best to bring him closer, and he obliges, straddling my lap as he allows me to take control of the kiss. I lick into his mouth as though I’m starving for him. Ihavebeen starving for him. Every cell in my body is alight with the taste of Harlan. I run my hands up and down his arched spine as he leans into me. I continue to reacquaint myself with the feel of him under my touch—the need growing stronger, desire licking up my spine. My head has never been more clear than it has at this very moment.Fuck it, let the world burn.
With another moan, Harlan pulls back, panting. His lips are swollen, and his pupils are blown out, while he strokes his fingers mindlessly over my beard. It’s a test of restraint not to pull him back in, to finish what we’ve started, but I wait him out. “God, I forgot how good it is to kiss you,” he breathes. He runs his fingers over my lips and tracks his own movement. In the dim light, I can see the beard burn on his face.
I take my time soaking him in. Seeing him in my clothes, in our bed, does something to my heart. As much as I want to see where this goes, he looks exhausted from traveling. He yawns and blushes. “You really need sleep, Harlan,” I say gently, before placing a chaste kiss on his lips. I shift our bodies so we’re properly in bed.
The moment I situate us, he’s wrapping himself around me, the way we’ve always done. The routine of it makes it seem like the last year never happened. I pull him closer, tucking the blanket around us, and wait for him to bury his nose in my neck. He exhales a sigh the moment he does that, and now I feel like I’m finally home again, too.
“I know you’re tired, but do you want to talk about what happened?” I stroke his hair as the tension bleeds from his body. He’s softer now. Relaxed. Content.
“It was more of the same, really. He hates the work I do, and he made a comment about not wearing anything inappropriate when the family came for Christmas. Then, he said I ruined things with you, and I’ve fucking had it, Dare. I’ll never be enough for him, and I couldn’t stay in that house and listen to it anymore.” After he unloads everything, he lets out a ragged breath and snuggles closer.
