Christmas Eve
Ivy opens the door, a Santa hat on her head, red tights hugging her legs under a sweater dress. “You made it,” she smiles.
“What’s up, man?” Jared calls, his new girlfriend, Madison, throwing me a wave.
I smile at them, and scrub my feet across the rug on the porch before walking inside. Lucy gallops to me, and I stoop down to pet her as Ivy shuts the door. When I stand, she is staring at me, her eyes glittering like blue diamonds, stealing a beat from my heart. It hasn’t quite been two months since we reset our friendship, and I have found it impossible to stay away from her.
We run Chastain Park every morning together after we meet for coffee. Occasionally, we hang out with Jared and Madison, but we haven’t been alone yet. I know myself well enough to know I wouldn’t be able to resist her, so I haven’t invited myself, and she hasn’t asked, either.
But I’m tired of resisting. I want her. I need her. I spent the months away from her feeling lost, smoking two packs per day, missing deadlines. I was grieving the loss of what we could have been, but being platonic with her has shown me how much I desire more. There are some things that have happened that will always be spoken about in a hushed tone. My parents are bound to have their reservations, Eliza is likely to come after us with glowing red eyes and a pitchfork, but … I want to try.
Of course, she has to want me, too. She has to be willing to let go of her guilt.
Madison steps toward me, a plate of cookies in hand. “Cookie?”
I take one, then step around Ivy to get to the tree in the corner of the room, tucking my present for her at the bottom. It’s nothing big, but I pray it will be valuable to her. We had a five-dollar limit for gift giving—a rule she suggested after requesting we instead donate the money we would have spent to a children’s Christmas charity, and I used it all on materials.
Ivy glides to the kitchen, my eyes on her as she swings her hips. She looks at me before she rounds the corner, goosebumps cropping up on my skin.
“Dammit!” she yells.
Jared and I stand, asking Ivy what’s wrong in unison, Madison’s head jerking her way. Ivy comes into view again, her lip pouted, arms folding across her chest, before she shrugs and mumbles something inaudibly.
“What?” I ask.
She mumbles again, staring down at her cherry red heels.
“Speak up,” Jared says.
“I burned the turkey! I can’t even make a turkey with a pop-up timer!”
Jared and I bust out laughing, as Madison gets up to move to her side. “It’s okay,” she tells her. “Jared and I can go get some Chinese. They’re always open.”
“Are you sure?” Ivy asks. “We can all go.”
Jared shakes his head, shooting me a look before pulling his keys from the table. “Nah, we got it. You just relax.”
They smile and file out the door, the gust of cold wind causing me to shiver. I look at Ivy, broad smiles appearing on our faces before she laughs.
“I feel like such a klutz. I don’t remember being this bad of a cook.”
“I’m not the greatest myself. I’m only good at grilling. Everything else is from a box or a drive-thru.”
She shakes her head, moves to the framed picture on her mantle next to a small gold box. “Merry Christmas, guys.”
I’m silent for a minute, allowing her time to talk to them or whatever people do when someone they love dies. I busy myself with Lucy, dangling a dog toy I found on the floor, letting her bite it from my hand before I throw it and repeat again.
When Ivy finally steps away from the fireplace, new energy in her gaze, she takes my breath away. This woman—this beautiful, amazing woman who fell to ruins has picked herself up, gluing each shattered piece together again until she stands before me as someone who hasn’t forgotten or given up, but someone who has forgiven and moved on.
Her stunning appearance is a bonus, a culmination of all the beauty that has always shone through her, but was dimmed with insurmountable sadness.
I break our gaze and walk to the tree, picking up the wrapped package. “Mind if we break this new tradition so you can open this before they get back?”
She smiles. “Okay.”
I pass it to her. “Open it.”
Her eyes move between me and the package as she rips the paper, pulling two envelopes from inside, taking particular interest in one of them. Her hand claps over her lips, brow furrowing before she carefully opens it, her eyes scanning the words inside. “How?” She lifts her eyes to mine.
“Deacon helped.”
“When do we go get her?”
“In a few weeks. I can go with you.”
“This is … I don’t even know what to say. Thank you, Brooks.”
I smile at her. “Congratulations. You’re a granddaughter.”
She laughs, and I reach over to take the letter and envelope from her hands, revealing another one underneath.
“What’s this?”
I drop Sarah’s letter on the table and step closer to her. “How about we take a walk, see the Christmas lights, and you can open it then.”
“What about Jared and Madison?”
“I’ll text them. I’m sure they won’t mind having some alone time.”
She smiles at me. Picks up the letter from Sarah and places it on the mantle, my envelope clutched in her fingers as she pulls her coat from the closet.
The air is frigid as we walk the few blocks to a nearby festive display. She stays tucked in my arm, her hands over her mouth, blowing heat into them, the twinkling lights coming into view. We round a corner, our shoes gritting against the pavement as we cross the street.
“I hope they aren’t mad at us,” she says.
I shrug as we approach the oversize Christmas tree in the center of the square, eyes scanning until I find what I am looking for. I tug on her arm, coaxing her along with me, the occasional person or couple strolling past, pumpkin spice wafting by.
“Do you think they’re mad? You texted them, right?”
Her eyes are worried, and I begin to lose my nerve. “They are fine. I may or may not have planned this days ago.”
Her head juts back, the bridge of her nose pink as she blows into her hands again. “What do you mean?”
“Open the envelope.”
Eagerly, she pulls it from her coat, her fingers ripping through the paper, retrieving the handmade card from inside—old polaroid photos of us cut and pasted onto the front. She grins, but then hesitates before opening it. I nudge her, and when she unfolds it, I read it along with her.
Will you be my girlfriend?
Her reaction isn’t what I’m expecting. She stares at it, not saying anything, not looking at me or moving.
“Well?”
Her eyes are wide. “Is this real?”
“As real as you are.”
She drops the card and snakes her arms around my neck. “Best Christmas present ever,” she whispers.
“I’m not done. Look up.”
Her eyes trail to the mistletoe before she smiles at me, and I smile, too. Backing her against the pillar beside us, I stare into her eyes before I kiss Ivy for the second time.
“Are you sure?” she asks as we step into my house. “I mean, this is so fast. It hasn’t even been two months.” Her eyes move to the floor.
“Shh.” I press my finger against her lips. “Friends isn’t good enough for me. I know who you are. I know the real Ivy. And you are mine.”
She blinks, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth before she jumps into my arms. I kick the front door shut, and then carry her to the bedroom and set her down. She shrugs off her coat, and I pull off my shirt. We stare at each other before I take her face into my hands and kiss her again, our tongues frantic and desperate. She pulls at my jeans, and I quickly pull off the rest of my clothes before helping her out of her dress. Slowly, I work her tights down her legs, kissing her belly as I do, our eyes connecting as I work off her thong.
We are naked now, both of us breathing hard as I pull her into my arms, kissing her deeply and laying her on the bed.
My lips meet the soft skin of her neck, trailing kisses down her skin until I move between her legs. My tongue glides over the heat of her as she moans, her knees clamping around my head, fists grabbing the sheets. Neither of us has had sex since she was committed, and as her thighs begin to shake, I sense she is close. I suck her one last time before moving my body on top of hers, feeling as if I am right where I am supposed to be—as if this was both of our destinies from the beginning.
Ivy looks at me in a way Kate never did, and in a way Eliza was never capable of—with love in her eyes and passion in her heart. Her fingers run through my hair as we kiss, her legs parting for me as I pause, ready to enter her.
“Make love to me, Brooks,” she whispers in my ear.
I shudder at her words, and push into her, her pussy clenching around me. We rock together, her breasts moving beneath me as she groans with pleasure. This is better than the beach, better than anything I could have imagined, because it is real. She is mine, and I am hers. Nothing is in our way, and we have overcome the unthinkable.
Her fingernails dig into my back as I buck harder into her, reveling in her warmth and how slick she is. She arches her back, thoughts of baseball on my mind as I try to step away from the ledge she is pushing me toward. I retreat a bit, trying my best to block out her moans, but when she tightens around me again, I move deep inside her, and suddenly, she tenses.
“I’m gonna come,” she says.
Her arms wind around my back as she cries out. I can’t take it any longer. In an instant, I am out of her, coming on her breasts while she reaches down to massage her way through the last of her orgasm.
Once we are both done, she reaches for my neck, and tugs me to her lips. We breathe against each other in satisfaction, her lazy smile sending a chill through me. Hovering over her, I realize, without a doubt, that I love this woman, but I vow not to say it. I won’t utter those words until I am sure I want to spend my life with her.
I won’t do anything to hurt her again.