“You know I want to be where Chiara is,” I mumble, though truthfully, I’d rather be with him.
“Then you’ll have to deal with me coming over every night,” he retorts, bending down to trail his tongue across my chest. My breath catches, and I let my eyes fall close, but just when I want to grip his hair, he steps back. “Fuck, please get dressed, or I can’t promise anything.” I smile, glancing down at theevident bulge in his jeans. “No, Carolina, seriously, get dressed,” he insists, pointing a finger at me, turning and exiting Sophia’s guest room as if it were on fire.
Letting out a long sigh, I pick up the holiday sweater and shake my head. Despite the reasons that brought me here, I can’t deny the sense of happiness settling in.
Chiara is safe. Something I didn’t think would be possible until she turned eighteen.
A smile spreads across my face as I get dressed, and there is a slight pep in my step as I make my way to Joshua so we can join the others on their side of the duplex.
It feels like we’ve stepped into a Christmas village. Sophia’s home is also festively decorated, but Christmas music fills the air here, the scent of cookies and mulled wine wafts around, and a Christmas tree stands proudly in the living room near the large couch.
It looks like one of those cringy Christmas movies Clay likes so much.
I love it.
Xander and Clay stand next to the couch. Xander has an arm wrapped around Clay’s waist, and they both hold a cookie. My eyes drift to their sweaters, and I nearly choke on a laugh.
Clay’s sweater is red and says,It’s not going to lick itself,accompanied by an image of a candy cane. Xander’s is green and reads,If you jingle my balls, I’ll give you a white Christmas.
“OhDio,” I wheeze.
Clay’s eyes meet mine, and he smirks. Letting go of Xander, he comes over and teases, “Kitten, have you had your candy today?”
“Shut it, Clay. We have young ears here,” Sophia calls out from the kitchen, pointing a spatula at Clay.
I turn to see Chiara hopping off a stool at the kitchen island and rushing over to embrace me tightly. “Pensavo di avertiperso. Non puoi lasciarmi anche tu.” She sobs into my shoulder.
“Sai che sono troppo testardo per andare da qualche parte,” I reply, holding her close.
Holding her in my arms, in a home where no one is out to hurt us, a tremendous weight lifts from my shoulders, leaving me almost breathless.
“I bet this particular teenager knows more dirty words than I do. And besides, those sweaters were your idea,” Clay states.
Chiara steps back, pushing away the tears with the arms of her sweater, and I glance at her pink one, which reads,Sleigh all day.
At least hers is age-appropriate.
My gaze then shifts to Sophia’s white sweater, which reads,I’m so good, Santa came twice.
I can’t help but chuckle. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Thanks, I know.” She smiles, stepping in front of me and pulling me in for a quick hug. “Merry Christmas.” She nearly shoves a cookie into my mouth. “Try, they turned out delicious.”
I take the cookie and nibble on it. It’s sugary awesomeness, but my stomach hasn’t fully recovered yet. Not eating solid food for several days has taken its toll. Still, I’m hoping to eat something later so I’m not just filled with pain medications and birth control.
“They’re so good,” I tell her honestly, a warm smile spreading across my face.
“I know. Time for presents,” Sophia exclaims, nudging me toward the couch. “Since you needed to rest yesterday, we thought we’d celebrate Christmas today.”
And here I thought I could have avoided this, but not even being in a coma spares me from Hurricane Sophia.
I mentally slap myself, realizing my ingratitude.
They’ve done all of this for me.
They waited for me.
The least I can do is be grateful and make an effort for them.
