Page 46 of Once Upon A Christmas Song

“Oh, I don’t think you can hurt him, he’s got twenty pounds of muscle on you. I just don’t want you to break his heart.”

“As I told you all, I value his heart. I won’t ever hurt it again.”

“Could you both just get out,” I grumbled, walking over to my desk.

She left just as Cami yelled a second time.

Dawson darted over to the door, closed it behind her, then leaned against it.

“What part of get out didn’t you understand?”

“Listen, I was stupid. Really stupid. I thought that making it big was all I wanted.”

“You really wanna do this right now?”

“No,” he said flatly. “What I would like is for you to invite me to your apartment, which I understand from Simone is the same hole-in-the-wall from nearly four years ago, and we can talk on your couch all night. I know what’s important now, Chris.”

“How about no?”

He took a breath. “I don’t expect you to just tell me everything is all right. I hoped, of course, but I know I fucked up after you left LA.”

“Listen, you need to forget about⁠—”

“I figured out how amazing you are, though, and how much I love you, and even better, I realized that I am also the best thing for you.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to hear this.”

His smile was blinding, and I realized, too late, that I had agreed to hear him out.

“I have a list,” he said, pulling out his phone. “I made it when I was in rehab.”

I refused to be sentimental over him going through detox alone and unloved. And yes, Ben had been there, but Ben wasn’t his lover, it wasn’t the same. Ben didn’t hold him in the middle of the night.

“Number one,” he said, and I was surprised at how nervous he sounded. He glanced over at me, smiled, accidentally dropped his phone, picked it up, and then had to do a lot of swiping to get back to where he was.

“What’s wrong? You seem off your game.”

Quick, sharp exhale. “I’m nervous, Chris. You are my one shot at happiness, and I’m terrified I fucked it up already, so this is my whole life right here.”

He was killing me because these were all the things I wanted to hear two years ago.

“Number one,” he repeated, looking at me and then back to his phone. “I have always loved you, as you know, and even when I wasn’t here and didn’t show it because I was an idiot and thought I wanted to be a huge star, I never, ever thought of us as over.”

I stayed quiet, listening.

“I knew after I released my third album that if I showed up here all messed up and strung out, that you’d help me, but then you’d always think of me as something you had to fix. Something broken. I wanted to come back clean and healthy so you’d know how much you mean to me. Know your value in my life.”

“Okay,” I managed to get out after a moment.

He took a breath. “Number two, I haven’t slept with anyone since I saw you last. And while we both know why, I just…”

“Tell me,” I demanded.

He shrugged. “It’s easy, right? To go without.”

“Is it?”

“Well, for me. I mean, I got used to having you in bed with me. You know exactly what I need, always, and give it to me. How could I ever replace a man who’s perfect for me?”