The Lyft pulls up outside the dark house, and the three of us ease out of it, keeping our voices down as we thank the driver. It’s well after midnight, technically Christmas Eve morning, and as a courtesy we’re trying not to wake up the entire street.
It’s cold tonight, maybe even the kind of cold Gabe would consider snow-sticking weather. A few flakes are already swirling on the wind, and I bounce on my toes as Sebastian fumbles with the front door lock.
“Hurry,” I whine, and he just grumbles as he sorts through his keys. His mood shifted toward the end of the night, which is why I suggested we call it quits. We’d had what I thought was a pretty fun time catching up with old classmates and butchering holiday classics at Christmas karaoke, but in the past hour or so, Seb stopped flirting with every woman who passed our table and started throwing back shots.
“Here.” Gabe turns on his phone flashlight and holds it up to help Sebastian find the key that’ll let us inside, and my brother gives him a curt “Thanks” when he locates the right one.
We tiptoe in, and it warms my heart to see that Mom’s left the living room Christmas tree lit so we can navigate through the otherwise dark house.
“I never knew people did Christmas like this,” Gabe says quietly. He drifts over to stand in front of the tree, the lights falling on his face and softening his strong features.
“Your family doesn’t decorate?” My muscles twitch with the desire to reach for his hand, but I’ve been a little too free with my touches, and I don’t want him to think that I’m misunderstanding why he’s here.
He gently taps one of the shiny red ornaments on the branch in front of us. “We moved around so much that nobody had much use for knickknacks. We’d have a turkey and stuffing, and if we were lucky there’d be a small tree. A couple of presents, but all very practical.”
“Oh no. Socks?” It’s late and I’m sleepy, which means I’m not able to resist resting my head on his shoulder. So much for not touching him.
He’s apparently okay with it because he wraps his arm around my waist, gliding his fingers over my sweater. I’ve never been so grateful for a piece of clothing in my life.
“Underwear too. Super underwhelming for a kid.”
“Poor little Gabe.”
He pulls me tighter into his side, his strength reminding me of what he looks like without a shirt. The memory makes me bold.
“If I play Color Me Badd, will you dance for me again?” I whisper.
He glances down at me, his eyes dancing. “I think it’s your turn.”
“You wish.”
“Yeah.” His thumb slides under the hem of my sweater to brush against my side. “I do.”
I forget how to breathe as his skin meets mine. And then my brother interrupts.
“I’m headed to bed,” he calls from the foot of the stairs. His gaze narrows on my fake boyfriend for a moment before he looks at me. “Everything okay here?”
I have no idea what that sibling code is supposed to mean, so I just nod. “I’m planning to drink a big glass of water and fall right to sleep.”
His shoulders relax. “Okay. Be sure to tell that fucker about our system.”
“Your system?” Gabe asks as I turn off the tree lights and plunge the house into darkness so we can tiptoe up the stairs behind Sebastian.
“Our bathroom system. It’s pretty simple. Lock the door to the other person’s room if you want privacy, and if you forget to unlock it when you’re done, the other person reserves the right to pour cold water into your ear while you’re sleeping.”
He escorts me into our bedroom. “Harsh but fair.”
Seb’s in the bathroom now, and I hear the sink turn on, then off, then there’s a short knock on my door, giving me the all-clear.
“I’ll just…” I point, and Gabe nods. By the time I emerge, he’s spreading the blankets out on the floor again.
I hate it, so I say something.
“What if you sleep in the bed tonight?”
He looks up from where he’s kneeling. “What if you wake up to find out that I’ve invaded your space while we were sleeping?”
“I wouldn’t mind.” My pulse pounds at the thought of it, in fact.
