She’s not.
“I don’t want you to give all of this up for me. This was your dream, and your happy place with your grandma. I want it to be our happy place too,” she argues.
There it is. again. OUR. A stupid three-letter word and I’m hanging on to it for dear life because it makes everything we’ve gone through worth it. She’s seeing a future with me and I can’t help the way it fills me with purpose. I haven’t had a purpose since my grandmother. “Vivienne, I’ll be happy anywhere as long as you’re there. I’m not asking you to give up your life for me. You’ve built a phenomenal career. You’ve lived next door to your best friend your entire life, and I’m pretty sure if you move here either Roxy’s coming with you or she’s hiring a hitman to take me out.”
This earns me a deep belly laugh. “Bullshit. She wouldn’t hire a hitman, she’d take you out herself.”
It’s my turn to laugh. “Exactly. I guess that settles it. We keep both places. You spend the holidays here with me and I spend the rest of the year at your place.”
“Who invited you to move into my place?” she teases.
I give her a cocky look. “Where else am I supposed to stay? It’d be wasteful to buy a second house.”
“Oh, you sound just devastated.” Her tone is mocking.
“It’s a tragedy. Honestly, I was looking forward to house hunting.”
“Liar.”
“So?”
She opens her mouth to argue, but I kiss her before she can.
“No fair,” she complains when I pull away. “You cheated.”
“There were never any rules about how to get what I want. It’s settled. You can help me pack.” My tone is light and playful, but deep down I’m serious.
Chapter thirty-three
The days leading up to Christmas Eve flew by. Cas kept me busy in the bedroom, making good on his promise to ravage me in the hot tub while it snowed, and has probably shown me every part of New York City on a tourist’s checklist. We visited the museums and bantered over art, went shopping in SoHo, ate a lot in Chinatown, and saw not one but two shows on Broadway. To be fair, one of the shows was the Rockettes’ Christmas Program, which needs to be a yearly tradition. One of my favorite things we did was walk through the holiday lights display at the Bronx Zoo. The quality time together is exactly what we needed after everything we’ve been through. Our late nights and long mornings in bed have become something of a staple. The only thing missing is Roxy. We FaceTime dailysomething I assumed would upset Cas, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He even pops onto the call most of the time to say hi.
Yesterday we traveled upstate to get a Christmas tree, then spent the rest of the day decorating it, watching movies curled up by the fire, and snacking on homemade Christmas cookies we baked. This man has ruined me for all other men. I’m positive he takes boyfriend material to the next level.
Cas is currently spending some time in the basement recording studio while I work on wrapping the artwork I drew him. It’s a comic-style spread with several panels. The first is an up-close of me tossed over his shoulder. The kidnapping is definitely worth documenting. The second shows him pulling my hair in our Mile High Club fantasy role-play attire, and the last image is the two of us kissing in NYC while sightseeing. I also added the typography. It’s simple:Our First Christmas in NYC.I love the way it came out.
I place a ribbon and label onto his gift and head downstairs to put it under the tree. We agreed on no gifts, but I couldn’t help myself. Besides, I made this so it doesn’t count. I don’t have time to argue with myself over it. Cas’s tattoo artist should be arriving any minute. I’m a nervous mess of energy but also strangely excited. I always thought I’d get a tattoo with Roxy, but doing it with Cas is a welcome surprise. How can I complain when he’s done nothing but show me what it feels like for someone to care?
The doorbell rings, sending me scurrying down the hall to hastily tuck my gift beneath the tree and sprint to the couch before Cas makes it up the basement stairs. Once I’ve managed to arrange myself on the couch I swipe open my phone tocasually doom-scroll, as if I’ve been here waiting the whole time. It’s not the least bit suspicious.
Cas jogs by, paying me no mind on his way to the door. From the entryway, I can hear them making friendly conversation followed by the shuffle of their footsteps right before they appear at the edge of the family room where I’m waiting. I look up from my phone to greet them right on cue.
“Vivienne, this is Travis. He’s done a lot of my work,” Cas says as Travis gives an awkward wave.
“Hi,” is all I can muster.
Cas tries to hide his laugh, but I catch him. Travis notices nothing; he’s already moved on to assessing the current layout of the room. “Am I setting up in the same spot we usually do?” he asks.
Cas nods.
“Are you my first victim?” Travis jokes with Cas as he begins to set up.
Cas’s gaze floats from Travis to me. He raises his eyebrow, tilting his head to the side. “Who’s going first, little muse?”
I stare at him blankly, still processing what I’ve agreed to do. “I don’t care.”
“Sus. You’re going first so you don’t chicken out,” Cas decides, narrowing his eyes. “You’re acting sketchy already. I’m going to have to keep watch over you like a hawk.”
I laugh. “Please do. I like it.” I bat my lashes at him.
