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“Nothing?” I frown.

“You listen. Observe. You watch what he does. And you let him show you who he is when things get tough.”

My throat tightens.

“Love isn’t the most dangerous thing in life, Georgia,” she adds softly. “Closing your heart is.”

Theo is still on the bench when I wake up in the morning.

For a second I think I’m imagining it. That he must have left like any sane human being would. But no, there he still is.

Even weirder, I swear I see a little black cat with a red collar streaking across the road away from him. I shake my head, because I’m absolutely seeing things that aren’t there, and I need to concentrate on the ones that are.

Like Theo.

At some point in the night he curled up and laid down on the bench, using his carry-on as a pillow. Somebody’s put a blanket over him and for some reason that touches me more than I expect. There are good people out there, everywhere. I like that thought.

I stand there for a moment, watching him sleep, and then I pull on some clothes and head to the kitchen, because it’s Christmas Day.

And everyone deserves a cup of coffee today.

By the time I make it outside, the city is slowly coming to life. A couple in Santa hats walk past with their dog, and a little girl wobbles along the sidewalk on brand new roller skates, her legs splaying out like Bambi as she does her best to stay upright.

And Theo is exactly where he’s been all night, sleeping through it all.

“Hey,” I whisper, pressing my hand gently against his shoulder. “Wake up. It’s Christmas.”

His eyes fly open. “What? Where?” He jerks upright so fast I have to yank my arm back to stop the coffee from sloshing over the rim.

For a second he looks completely disoriented. Then his eyes land on me.

Slowly, recognition settles in. “Georgia,” he murmurs.

“I brought you some coffee,” I say, holding my breath like somehow it will protect my heart. “You must be freezing.”

He takes the mug, and his fingers are ice cold as they brush mine. His eyes close as he swallows the dark liquid down.

“How was your night?” he asks, his teeth chattering.

“Better than yours, I imagine. Why didn’t you find a hotel?”

He looks down at the cup, turning it slowly between his hands. “Because I wanted to spend Christmas Eve with you.”

Oh god, he can be sweet. I have to forcefully remind myself I’m not a pushover.

“Thank you,” he murmurs. “Best coffee I’ve ever had.”

“Please tell me you’re done with this and you’re going to check into a hotel.”

“Done?” He tips his head to the side. “I’m just starting.”

“I’m not sure either of us will survive another night like that,” I point out. “Do you know how hard it was for me to stay up there knowing you could be freezing your ass off. Everything in me was screaming to let you come inside.”

The corner of his lip quirks. “Isn’t that kind of the point?”

“What do you mean?”

“If you’re going to put yourself first, you need to stop worrying about everybody else.”