Braxton
There’s a very different feel in my parents’ house this Christmas, and it all starts and ends with Gracie.
At least, for me it does.
I can’t stop staring at her where she’s sitting with my mom and Analise, all of them drinking eggnog that’s probably more brandy than anything else. Gracie’s cheeks are rosy, and her eyes are more blue than gray, filled with warmth as she laughs at something my mom says.
She’s wearing an ugly sweater, a fuzzy green thing with a giant snowman couple dancing on the front. My own is a red one with prancing reindeer…because apparently, I’ll do anything Gracie asks, especially when she decides we’re making our own traditions this year.
I didn’t have any complaints about the matching pajamas. I had a hell of a lot of fun peeling them off her last night.
I drop down onto the couch next to Nick, his expression not having improved at all since the other night. “You alright, man?”
He slides me a long look before his shoulder lifts. “Fine. Why?”
I stifle a sigh, adopting a casual tone. “Just asking. Where’s your dad spending Christmas?”
Nick opens his mouth, closes it with a clack of his teeth, before slumping back against the couch. “He’s visiting my mom and Paisley.”
My eyes widen in surprise, and I lean closer, lowering my voice. “Shit, really? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“There was nothing to tell you,” Nick returns quietly. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I told him I didn’t want any part of it. I don’t know how to make things right with Paisley, and right now…I don’t think I want to. And Mom—” He cuts himself off, pain flashing through his eyes. “I don’t know, man. She’s my mom, you know?”
“You love her,” I say simply.
Nick gives me a pained smile. “I love her,” he agrees. “But I don’t like her so much right now. Same goes for Paisley.” He glances around the room, eyes lingering on Gracie, his mouth tugging down. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. Gracie didn’t deserve any of what happened, and I hate that my family was responsible.”
“Your family,” I tell him. “Not you.”
“Same thing.”
“It’s not,” I counter. “Mom said it to you once before. You’re not responsible for their choices. You’re only accountable for your own actions.” There’s enough meaning threaded into my voice that Nick glares at me.
“We’re not talking about Halsey right now.”
“Are we not talking about her because she’s not talking to you?”
“Fuck you, Brax,” he hisses through his teeth. “Leave it alone.”
I do, but only because it isn’t the time or the place to have anything out with Nick, as much as he might need it. He was there for me when I was fucking everything up,even if it took a while for the message to sink it. Now, I’ll be here for him, even if he pushes me away.
He hasn’t hit rock bottom yet, but he won’t be alone when he hits the ground, no matter what he thinks.
I look over at the window across from me, catching a flash of movement that makes me grin. “We’ll talk later,” I tell Nick, ignoring the irritated grunt he gives me, and stand. “Rumpel, can I borrow you?” Gracie turns to look at me in question, and I tip my head toward the door. “Come on.”
She heaves herself out of her chair with a beleaguered sigh that makes me roll my eyes as I lead her to the backdoor. When she realizes my plan, she draws up short, complaining, “It’s cold. Why are we going outside?”
I snag a coat off the hook by the door—Dad’s—and wrap her up in it before shoving her out the door. She yelps as she stumbles down the steps, already shivering, but comes to a stop just a few steps from the door.
I quickly skirt around her, wanting to catch her awed expression as the snow gently falls down around us. There’s not a lot, just a dusting that I can barely feel when it brushes across my cheeks. It’s not even settling on the ground yet, but Gracie’s face makes it all worth it.
“It’s snowing.”
I chuckle. “So it is. Maybe next year we could go away. Guarantee ourselves a white Christmas,” I murmur, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her into me, grinning when her teeth chatter. “Somewhere with a big fire, where we can watch the snow fall from inside.”
She tips her head back, closing her eyes. “It’s so quiet out here,” she says, her voice hushed. “So peaceful.”
“Beautiful,” I murmur, never taking my eyes off Gracie, and her mouth curves up. “This is the Christmas we should have had last year.”
