I groan and pull the covers over my head.
“Merry Christmas,” Hanlon says, ripping them off me. “Get up. I made you breakfast.” He plants a kiss on my closed lips and energetically hops off my bed.
This is the first Christmas I’ve spent with someone in a long time, and I might have gone a little overboard with gifts, but then again, it’s Hanlon, and I regret nothing that makes him smile. I may have called the gear store and placed an order that was delivered to the office a coupledays ago. I chose several items I know Han will need in the field once he’s hired. There are certain brands I trust and if Hanlon’s life depends on his gear, then by God, I’m going to make sure he has the best. We didn’t talk about gifts, but I couldn’t suppress the urge to make sure he had something to open on Christmas morning.
Pulling on another pair of sweatpants—my usual outfit in the winter—I dig in my closet until I find what I’m after, brush my teeth, and head for the kitchen.
The smell of bacon greets me as soon as I step into the hallway, and by the time I reach the kitchen, my stomach is grumbling loudly. We never ate dinner last night.
Hanlon smirks at me with fire in his eyes. “Someone’s hungry.”
I laugh. “Are you talking about me or yourself?”
“Can it be both?” he asks, walking toward me.
“Definitely.”
We collide in the middle of the kitchen, tongues fighting for dominance. His hands latch onto my ass and pull me against him as I clutch his gift in my hand, hoping he doesn’t think it’s the stupidest thing in the world.
I’ve never been so eager to touch or be touched as I am with him, and I clutch his waist with my free hand.
After dry humping me for a few seconds, Hanlon grips the back of my neck and starts sucking on that spot below my ear that lights me up like the pathetic excuse for a Christmas tree I have plugged in on the counter.
“Han, your bacon’s burning,” I manage to mumble.
“So is my desire to get you naked,” he replies, reluctantly pulling away from me to tend to the meat on the stove.
Well, fuck,that’s too much distance. I placethe gift on the table and wrap my arms around his waist, planting my chin on his shoulder.
“I got you something for Christmas.”
His head whips to the side, trying to look at me. “Stone! We haven’t done gifts in years! And besides, I’m pretty sure you hated me until like five days ago, so I didn’t get you anything!”
“I’ve never hated you, Skittles.” His childhood nickname slips out without my permission, causing him to go still. The day I gave him that nickname was the day I taught him to ski. It was a snow day from school, but our parents had to work. I was fourteen, Hanlon was ten, and of course, I was told to babysit. Our house wasn’t too far from the slopes, and there was a bus stop nearby that would drop us off right at the ticket counter. I’d been with my dad and other friends several times and thought if I could wear Hanlon out, maybe he wouldn’t bug me all fucking day.
Of course, to this day, our parents have no idea I used the cash they’d left me to take him to the slopes, and to his ten-year-old self’s credit, he kept the secret even though I know he wasdyingto show our parents what he’d learned.
I should have known Hanlon would be determined to get the hang of it, but he was still a kid, so I’d brought along some reinforcements just in case he needed motivation. Our parents were so strict with his diet, but I knew sugar was his weakness. Every time he would complete a trip down the bunny slope, I’d give him a few Skittles. He probably ate close to three full packs that day and got sick that night. I felt like shit, but I was also really proud of him for picking up the sport so quickly despite his particular set of challenges. I also remember that he didn’t whine or complain once that whole day until it was time to go, and he begged to stay just ten more minutes.
“You haven’t called me that in a long time,” he says quietly, turning in my arms.
“Yeah, I should probably use something more fitting for an adult and a…” I trail off, not knowing what to call him.
“Boyfriend?” he finishes for me, quirking a brow.
Could Hanlon Jacob Winchester III really be myboyfriend?
“Yeah,” I agree. He smiles, and my face immediately mirrors his. “I should pick something befitting a boyfriend.”
“Nah, I’m partial to Skittles. The day you gave it to me was one of the best days of my life.”
“I hope to give you many more.” I cringe at how sappy that sounds, but I don’t take it back because it’s true.
Chapter 24
Hanlon
Inside the bag is an entire avalanche testing kit, as well as safety gear. My eyes grow wide because the contents of this bag had to have cost close to a thousand dollars, if not more.
