He’s trying to give me pieces of himself, little by little, after he’s spent so long burying it all inside. It’s hard for him, but he’s still trying.
And I’m so proud of him. I tell him that each time I think about it, which is often, and I remind him that he doesn’t have to do it alone.
Usually, I spend my school breaks at home with my family, but this time, I decided to stay on campus, because truthfully, I didn’t want to leave Wilder.
I obviously could not tell my parents that. Instead, I made up an excuse about wanting to spend more time at home with Sebastian, and it wasn’t a lie. I do.
But… with Wilder too.
I did go home for Thanksgiving supper yesterday so I could see my family and reassure my mama that I am actually okay, but then I came back to my apartment afterward.
Today, though, is just for Wilder and me.
Our first holiday together.
Coincidentally, also one of the only days aside from actual Thanksgiving that the team has off from practice or games. Apparently, hockey doesn’t stop… even for national holidays.
When I asked Wilder what he wanted to do, he said he didn’t care as long as it was with me, and yes, my heart nearly flew out of my chest.
“I can’t believe I just sat through two hours of that,” he grumbles, his chest vibrating beneath where I’m sprawled across him in his bed.
Scoffing, I lift my head to look at him. “Ican’t believe you don’t likeThe Covenant.It’s a classic. You have so much to catch up on; it’s my job to make sure you’re watching them all.”
“Mmm… yeah, don’t think I’m missing very much, baby.” He chuckles.
Our version of Thanksgiving is binge-watching movies on his brand-new TV that I’m almost a hundred percent certain he got only for me.
It’s been the very best day I’ve had in a long time, and we’ve done literally nothing but lie in bed, watch movies, and just be together with zero interruptions. No classes or practices.
No phone calls, or emails, or classwork.
Nothing but the two of us.
“Not that I could hear the last thirty minutes over the sound of your stomach growling, Sunshine. C’mon. Let’s go get some food.”
I shake my head. “Sorry, Coach, but you promised me not one buttwoorgasms after this movie. It’s time to pay up.”
“Food first. Then fucking. I can’t do the things I promised to do to you if you’re starving to death. I need to go grocery shopping, I guess.”
“Or… we could get Mr. Changs?”
Wilder shakes his head, rolling his eyes at my obsession with my favorite restaurant, but he’s already walking to his keys, and I already know that I’ve gotten my way.
What a man.
What a freaking man.
Myman.
An hour later, we’re back at Wilder’s apartment, walking across the parking lot with the goods secured. It dawns on me right at this moment while walking beside him, his large hand curled around mine, fingers intertwined, doing something so domestic and so normal, that the perfect Thanksgiving isn’t dressing up, spending the entire day in the kitchen preparing a dozen different foods, and playing nice with family you only see twice a year.
The perfect Thanksgiving is ’90s movie marathons, my favorite fat pants, takeout from the best Chinese restaurant in NOLA, and the hottest man on the planet.
Who ismine.
I can’t seem to stop thinking about the fact that he’s mine.
And also the food.
