“You can give it to them,” he says after a second of thought.
I pull his body close to me and wrap myself around him. It’s the kind of gesture he’d usually allow and then shake off a second later by rolling over or doing something else to rearrange in the bed. Tonight, he doesn’t do any of those things.
He just settles in… and falls asleep.
CHAPTER 22
OLIVER
Some things never change. When I’m at home, I fall back into old patterns—stuff I’d never do in my own home. I’m sure psychologists have some terminology for it, but it’s comforting. Knowing a piece of me will always be the same as it was when I lived here all those years ago.
Maybe that’s why I’m awake before dawn on Christmas morning, even though I’m fully aware Santa didn’t come last night. Well, he did. I happen to know thatSantais my mom and dad, filling my stocking with chocolate and socks to keep the magic alive for the young kids.
And maybe a little bit for me. As the baby, my siblings made sure I kept up the ruse for as long as possible, afraid they’d miss out once I was in on it.
I put on my sweats and a pullover before making my way out to the kitchen, leaving Aaron to rest. He needs it with all the time shifting he does for his job. Plus, as much as I adore having him here with my family, I also want a little bit of alone time withmy mom. I haven’t been avoiding her calls, but with work and everything else, we haven’t had much time to chat. And maybe I’ve been putting off some of our chats because I don’t know what to say to her about Aaron.
As expected, I find her humming to herself in the kitchen, bent over the counter, making cinnamon rolls. It’s a family tradition around here.
How she continually finds the time for stuff like this, when I know she’s exhausted, continues to amaze me. She did it when there were six of us running around the house, and she does it now.
“Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to come and help?”
“Put me to work, Mom.” At least now I’m actually useful. Sneaking down as a kid to be in the kitchen with her during these quiet hours often came with a lot of distractions. Fortunately, she only burned one batch in all those years.
“Could you work on the frosting?” She points toward the big bag of powdered sugar sitting on the counter.
“Of course I?—”
“And don’t eat any of it. We don’t need to be eating the remnants of what you couldn’t get up with your fingers.”
“Fine.” I licked the bowl clean one time before all the rolls were frosted, and they never let me forget it. That was twenty years ago. I sigh loudly so she knows she’s inconveniencing me. I wouldn’t eat it all; just enough to keep me going.
I pull the stand mixer out of the cabinet and get to work.
“So,” she says, drawing out the word as she puts the pan in the oven. “I like Aaron. He seems like a good fit for you.”
Shit. I knew this was coming, but didn’t bother to plan any witty response.
“Yeah, he’s a great friend.”Smooth.
“You know I talk to your siblings, right?” Her raised eyebrow sends a chill through my body. Fucking, Daniel. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything to him.”
Thank fuck for small favors. Aaron would totally freak out over that one. I’d probably have to catch up with him after he made a run for it. I’m not convinced he wouldn’t make it all the way back to Cardinal Falls on foot. He’s fast and stubborn.
“Why are you two pretending to be friends?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Give me a little credit. I’ll let you know if I have trouble keeping up.”
I sink into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. How many times did I do this as a kid? Sit here, pouring my heart out while my mom worked at the stove? “I like him. A lot.” Understatement of the century, but there’s no way I’m using the word love with her before I get the courage to say it to him. “It’s just… we’re kind of not dating. Or we are, but we’re not telling people.”
She purses her lips the way she always does when she’s trying to hold back whatever it is that she wants to say.
“The thing is, we didn’t start on the best foot. I think things have changed, but now we’re stuck in this weird in-between.” That’s the best description I can come up with. I work for an author, but I’m certainly not one. “Plus, he’s had relationship issues in the past. Personally, I think he was dating assholes, but they really got to him.” If I ever meet one of them in a dark alley… I’m not really the fighting type, but I’d definitely have a few strong words for them.
“Have you told him that?”
