Tomboys Don't Love Christmas

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Tomboys Don't Love Christmas Page 12

by Christina Benjamin


  I nodded again. “I don’t think I like the snow anymore.”

  “You never did.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

  “Uh, let’s recap. The snowball fight fiasco on the playground, the spectacular sledding accident, aka Nicole versus the tree TKO, and we can’t forget the time I convinced you that Santa wouldn’t bring you presents unless there was snow inside the house.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “All of those were your fault.”

  “Nah uh! The snow inside was Ian’s idea.” Chris laughed. “Probably his best prank ever.”

  “Oh please, Ian would never think of anything that terrible. Mom and Dad had to replace the floors!”

  “You thought . . .” Chris was laughing so hard it took him a full minute to catch his breath. “You thought that was how Santa snuck in and out without leaving tracks.”

  “Because you told me that!”

  “Actually, that was Ian’s brilliant idea. Remember? He said Santa only walked on snow so his footprints would melt and keep people from tracking him.”

  I crossed my arms, because I did remember him telling me that and of course I’d believed him. I’d had a crush on him since the first day I met him. It’s why I’d put up with just about anything to tag along with my big brother and his best friend growing up. Including dragging sled-loads of snow into the house on Christmas Eve.

  “Okay so the idea may have been mine, but Ian sold it.” Chris laughed. “But the guy’s got no stomach for pranks. He felt so bad about the floors he told Mom and Dad that he was the one who brought all the snow inside so you wouldn’t get in trouble.”

  “I remember,” I said quietly, my heart squeezing painfully in my chest.

  Chris shook his head, a smirk on his face. “He was always looking out for you. Even back then.”

  My lips began to tremble as I felt my eyes flood with emotion. I knew the story was meant to cheer me up, but if anything, I felt worse. Because Ian was one of a kind and the idea of losing him . . . of a snowstorm erasing everything we’d built together . . .

  “Hey,” Chris said when my tears started to fall. “Hey, Coley, he’s gonna be fine.”

  “But what if he’s not?”

  “He is.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because he owes me a snowball fight.”

  I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. “That’s not a real reason.”

  “It is too. Ian always keeps his promises.”

  That was true, and for some reason that just made me cry harder. Probably because all the things we’d promised each other for our futures came rushing back to me at that moment.

  I clung to Chris tighter, burying my face in his shirt, tears and snot and all.

  “Ian is okay,” he promised.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I do,” he said, tightening his arms around me. “Don’t worry,” Chris said, softly. “We’re gonna have lots more stupid snowball fights and sledding mishaps. We’ve got a whole future full of them.”

  “That’s what I want more than anything,” I sobbed, “but I just have this terrible feeling that something’s wrong.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  My head snapped up. “You feel it, too?”

  “Not right now, not about Ian. But I get it. I mean, it makes sense that it’s hard for us to trust in good things. When your own parents give you up, it’s hard to believe anyone else could ever be counted on to stick around.”

  I blinked up at Chris, shocked silent. He rarely spoke seriously about anything, let alone his adoption. But I nodded, because he’d hit the nail on the head. It was hard to believe in the strength and certainty of things, especially love. And even though our adoptive parents were the most incredible people on the planet and my boyfriend was a dream come true, there was always that seed of doubt—that things were too good to last.

  I carried it with me always, but hearing Chris say it too made my heart break a little more. My carefree, jokester, serial-dating big brother seemed invincible. But the fact that he felt this way too . . .

  “I never told you this,” Chris said, interrupting my train of thought, “but our freshman year at Princeton, I asked Ian what he would’ve done if I hadn’t been okay with you two dating.”

  I looked up at my brother. “What’d he say?”

  “He gave me an Ian answer. He just grinned and said, ‘it’s a good thing we’ll never have to find out.’ But I knew what that meant.”

  “What?”

  “It was Ian’s way of saying he would’ve chosen you. He loves you, Nicole. Always has. He’s my best friend and I’m telling you, there’s nothing in this world that guy wouldn’t do for you. I know wherever he is, he’s figuring out a way to get back to you right now. So have a little faith. Because what you two have, it’s really special. It’s something I hope to find one day.”

  I gaped at my brother as everything suddenly clicked into place. Chris’s laissez faire attitude, his revolving door of women . . . it wasn’t that he didn’t care, it was that he cared too much.

  He was every bit as scared as I was to take the plunge, to take that leap of faith and let someone else catch you.

  I wanted to tell him it was worth it, even with all the worry I felt for Ian at the moment, I’d never trade it. I was about to tell him just that when Chelsea walked up.

  “Hey guys. I brought you some champagne. Tyler’s passing it around like water and Marissa definitely doesn’t need another round.”

  Chris took a glass and so did I. I didn’t really feel like drinking, but it was a nice gesture that Chelsea had thought of us and I didn’t want to be rude. Really, I wanted to continue the conversation I’d just been having with my brother. And strangely I found myself surprised that Chris’s attention was still on me, instead of the gorgeous girl who was clearly into him.

  Come on, I knew the champagne wasn’t really for me.

  But then Chelsea put a comforting hand on my arm, her eyes full of sincerity. “Any news on Ian?”

  I shook my head.

  “I’m so sorry, Nicole. Is there anything I can do?”

  “You’ve already been a big help, Chelsea,” I replied.

  “I could call my dad again and have him check the flight statuses one more time,” she offered.

  I was about to decline her very generous offer when Chris chimed in. “That would be awesome, Chelsea.”

  She gave him a warm smile and headed in search of a quieter spot, her phone already in her hand.

  I didn’t miss the way Chris tracked her every move. There was a longing in his eyes that I didn’t see often.

  “Ya know,” I started, “if you met someone who you thought could truly make you happy, I’d never stand in your way, right?”

  Chris gave me a strange look. “Of course. But don’t worry. I’m not trying to date any of your friends. Besides, it seems like they’re all taken.”

  “Not all of them,” I said.

  “Huh?”

  “Oh, come on! I can see you like Chelsea.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I crossed my arms and gave him my well-practiced sisterly scowl.

  “Okay whatever, maybe I do but I’m off duty tonight,” he said, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “I’m here on official big brother duty. The ladies will have to wait.”

  “Not ladies, Chris. Lady. Just one.”

  It was his turn to give me some sibling side-eye.

  “Oh, just admit it. You actually like this one. And you might even have a chance since you haven’t screwed things up by repelling her with your cheesy pickup lines.”

  “Hey! They’re not cheesy if they work.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Not the point.”

  “What is?”

  “That you deserve to be happy, Chris.”

  “I know that,” he said, defensively.

  “Then you have to stop being afraid and let someone in.�
�� I could tell he was about to sling an argument my way, so I beat him to it. “Yes, with Ian it was terrifying at first. And even sometimes still, but that fear . . . it’s how you know you have something worth hanging on to. Worth fighting for.”

  Chris swallowed hard, his eyes drifting back to where Chelsea was standing, her phone pressed to her ear. “What about Team Fraser?” he asked.

  “Team Fraser means we support each other, not hold each other back. Besides, we’ll always be Team Fraser.”

  Chris’s eyes met mine. “You’re the best sister ever.”

  “I know.”

  He smirked and gave me a quick kiss on the forehead before jogging after Chelsea.

  Chris’s words came floating back to me. ‘I know wherever he is, he’s figuring out a way to get back to you right now. Have a little faith.’

  He was right. I knew if it was at all within his power, Ian would find a way to let me know he was okay. All I could do now was have a little faith. And maybe help my brother find a girl worth having faith in, too.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chelsea

  “Hey,” Chris said, just as I ended my call with my dad.

  “Hey,” I greeted. “My dad’s going to look into Ian’s flight status again and call me back if he has any news.”

  “Oh, that’s great, but that’s not why I came over here.”

  For a moment I found myself lost in Chris’s dark lashes and mesmerizing eyes. Then I remembered this was a conversation and it was my turn to speak. “It’s not?”

  “No, I uh, I wanted to . . .” He paused, looking a bit lost himself as he regarded me, his eyes darkening in the glow of the Christmas lights.

  Chris licked his lips, his gaze dropping to mine.

  Kiss me! My inner goddess practically screamed the word as my whole body vibrated with the electricity of his touch. I don’t exactly remember when his hand caught mine, but I was acutely aware of the effect he was having on me. We were touching, his skin burning mine in a delicious way as his lips quirked up into a playful smirk.

  “Did you have something else on your mind?” I asked, appalled at how breathless my voice sounded.

  Chris’s eyes glanced up, his smile growing just enough to reveal a hint of his dimples.

  Really? Come on! It wasn’t fair.

  The boy already had me under his spell. And with those dimples?

  I didn’t stand a chance.

  And when I tore my eyes away from his smile long enough to see what he was looking at, I found myself smiling, too.

  Nope. I didn’t stand a chance at all.

  And I’d never been happier.

  “It looks like we have to kiss,” Chris said, his voice full of allure as he nodded to the miraculous little plant above us.

  I grinned. “I think we’d better.”

  “But only if you promise not to fall for me,” he added, his smirk irresistible as he drew closer.

  “I don’t know . . . Marissa says mistletoe can make miracles happen.”

  He gave me a cocky grin. “So you’re saying it would take a miracle for you to fall for me?”

  Definitely not. I was halfway to head-over-heels already, but there was no reason to tell Chris that. He’d probably go running out into the snowstorm if I admitted I’d already looked up how far our colleges were from each other.

  It was bizarre. I wasn’t a girl who fell fast. Actually, I wasn’t a girl who fell at all.

  But what had started as a fun flirty rebound to distract me from my very recent breakup had become alarmingly real. And the crazy part was, I didn’t even realize when it happened. All I knew was the connection I felt to him was something strong and rare. Something I wanted more of.

  Which meant I needed to play it cool.

  I gave a shrug, trying to feign nonchalance. “If anyone should be worried about falling for someone, it’s you.”

  Chris huffed a laugh, making me swoon over the way his eyes crinkled at the corners in genuine delight. “I don’t know if I believe that . . .” he teased.

  He was enjoying this game as much as I was, so I returned his amusing arrogance with a swaggering smirk of my own. “That’s because you haven’t kissed me yet.”

  His lips parted to laugh, but I didn’t give him the chance. I fisted the front of his shirt and pulled him to me, our lips colliding in a kiss that was neither soft nor sweet. Combustible was a better word for it. Our connection was instant, like the strike of a match, lighting us up while the world burned away around us.

  Chris’s hands cupped the back of my neck, pulling me closer still, coaxing needy sounds from me that should have been embarrassing. I wasn’t a girl who threw herself at guys. Quite the opposite actually. But with Chris . . . something was different.

  My pride faded and I let go of every idea I had about the type of guy I should be with, and for once I focused on the guy I wanted to be with. The one who I was presently clinging to as he single-handedly kept my heart beating while the rest of me short-circuited.

  At least that’s how it felt as our kiss grew with urgency.

  It had started with such a frenzy I worried we wouldn’t have any room to grow, but somehow, the kiss continued to build, crackling with passion and possession.

  I’d had many first kisses in my life, but never one like this.

  It was new, yet familiar. There was no learning curve in kissing Chris Fraser. It was like his lips had been made for mine and everything else just fell into place.

  I had no idea how long we stood there, fully lost in each other beneath the mistletoe. I just knew I wanted to stay there forever, in his arms, tasting his lips, sharing his breath. It was both dizzying and grounding at once.

  Chris felt it too. I could tell. I barely knew him, yet somehow in that moment it was as if I’d known him forever. The way he held me, his breath rushing against my lips, his heart beating against mine. He was my mirror and I’d never been more terrified or exhilarated in all my life.

  Both still clinging to each other, our lips parted so we could catch our breaths.

  Chris tucked my hair back, once, twice, before gently tracing my jaw. “That was . . .”

  “Yeah,” I whispered, agreeing whole-heartedly with his loss of words. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” I admitted.

  His eyes were dark and a bit dazed as he gazed at me. I knew mine looked the same. “Me too,” he whispered. “Actually, I think I’ve been waiting to do that my whole life.”

  It felt like someone was launching fireworks inside my heart, and the only thing I could think to do to release the joy erupting inside of me was pull Chris’s glorious lips back to mine.

  “I’m starting to believe in this mistletoe miracle stuff,” he said, when we came up for air.

  I was breathless and lightheaded, and quite possibly . . . hallucinating?

  Still wrapped in the warmth of our post-kiss bliss, I worried I couldn’t trust what I was seeing, so I rubbed my eyes to make sure.

  “What’s wrong?” Chris asked when he noticed my incessant blinking.

  “Nicole!” I gasped.

  He took my hands. “It’s cool. I talked to her already. She told me to go for it. She likes you.”

  “Really?” I asked, momentarily sidetracked from the real issue by the fact that Chris’s sister liked me. But the cold blast of air that hit me brought me back to reality. “No, that’s not the problem. She just ran outside.”

  Chris turned around just in time to see the door bang shut.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Ian

  Just a little bit further. I could practically smell the fried food. Or was that just another hallucination? I’d been walking for hours and the relentless snow made it impossible to know what I was really seeing. I’d already imagined I’d seen Nicole a dozen times, running into my arms like an angel coming to save me from this insane mission.

  But I’d come this far. I couldn’t give up now.

  Today had been one of the longest days o
f my life. Things started to go wrong the moment I boarded the plane in New York. I couldn’t help taking all of it as a sign that I wasn’t meant to spend the holidays away from my family.

  Yes, I was going to see my mother in Puerto Rico, but I could barely remember the last holiday I’d spent with her before she left. Nicole, Chris, the Frasers, my dad . . . they were my real family. The ones I was fighting to get back to.

  The ones I never should’ve left in the first place.

  My flight out of New York left on time, but by the time we made it to Atlanta, there were so many grounded flights that there was no room for us to land. That rerouted us through Washington-Dulles, which had too much snow on the ground for a safe landing, so that sent us to Philly.

  The Philadelphia airport was a nightmare on a good day. And a blizzard on Christmas Eve . . . well you can guess how that went. There was no way I was getting a flight out to Puerto Rico. The airline said they could get me to Charlotte or New Jersey, which was literally a stone’s throw from where my trip first started.

  And since none of those options sounded good to me, it made my decision pretty easy. It’s what I should’ve done in the first place—go home. My real home. Nicole.

  I knew what I had to do. It’d taken me one train ride, two buses, a cab and—I looked down at my watch—two hours of walking, but I was nearly there. Home. Back in Northwood, where I belonged.

  The moment the cab dropped me off on the outskirts of town—as far as the closed roads would allow—I felt my spirits lift. I was exhausted and numb considering I was dressed for the weather in Puerto Rico, not a Nor’easter, but still something sparked to life in me filling me with renewed confidence the moment I crossed the Northwood city limits.

  It was like I could feel a pull toward Nicole tugging me on. It had always been that way. From the day I met her, she’d be the sun in my very own personal solar system. My whole world began and ended with her. She was my everything. And that’s why I had to get to her.

  It was Christmas Eve and there was nowhere else I belonged.

  The moment my plane took off for Puerto Rico I knew I’d made a mistake. Yeah, I’d love to make amends with my mom. It was time. But not at the expense of the people who’d always been there for me. If my mom really meant what she’d said, there would be other opportunities to build a relationship with her, but Nicole . . . Chris . . . things were changing. I could feel it.

 

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