by Max Monroe
And then, I head into the bathroom and brush my teeth and get myself ready for bed.
My balls might be fucking blue in the morning, but the seed has been planted.
I want to make her mine.
December 25th, Christmas Day
Ava
With strong arms wrapped around my waist and my back pressed against a firm chest, warm skin blankets me. I am cozy, comfortable, cocooned.
I could stay right here for an eternity, and I don’t think I’d ever grow tired of it.
But my human blanket has other plans.
“Time to wake up, Ava,” Luke’s voice whispers into my ear, but I keep my eyes closed and shake my head.
“Nope.” Lord knows, my desire to stay in bed is warranted. After Luke helped me “get dressed” for bed last night, his hands and his eyes teasing and taunting me until I thought I’d spontaneously combust, sleep didn’t come easy.
It took me hours to turn my freaking brain off and for my body to stop vibrating with pent-up sexual frustration.
Frankly, I don’t know why he did what he did or why he didn’t do what I really wanted him to do, but it would take a lobotomy for me to forget about it. For me to forget the way he looked at me. The way his voice sounded when he told me I’m beautiful.
His words are forever ingrained in my mind.
And your heart. And hell, let’s be real, your little beaver too.
I am now acutely aware that I have either already broken or want to break every damn rule on my Best Friends Don’t List. With my eyes still closed, I visualize that list and go down each number, taking inventory of my crimes.
Kiss? Guilty.
See each other naked? Also guilty.
Have sex? Want to be guilty so bad that I’d volunteer as tribute to make my orange prison jumpsuit.
Catch feelings? Oh boy.
Oh boy? You should’ve been in handcuffs about fifteen years ago, sister.
I think I might be in trouble.
Big “I think I’m falling for my best friend” trouble.
“Ava?” Luke’s voice is in my ear again. “Did you forget that it’s Christmas?”
“Nope.”
With his chin resting on my elbow, his soft chuckles vibrate against the skin of my bare shoulder. “Not only is it Christmas, but it looks like you got your wish.”
I peer one eye open. “What wish?”
“Snow.”
That urges both of my eyes to pop open. Instantly, I turn toward my bedroom window and glance over Luke’s shoulder. Through the panes of glass, I spot the thick white flakes drifting from the sky. They shimmer and dance in the light of morning as they descend past the window and toward the ground.
Snow.
“A white Christmas after all,” Luke whispers, now lying back on the bed.
“I knew Vermont wouldn’t disappoint,” I say, a sleepy smile consuming my face, and lean forward to rest my chin on his bare chest, still staring out the window.
“I took a look at the ole itinerary, and it appears we have quite the day ahead of us,” he teases, a smile cresting up the corners of his lips.
“You ready to experience a Lucie family Christmas?” I turn my head to the side, now resting my cheek against his chest, and meet his amused face.
Luke gazes down at me, reaching out to brush a few rogue pieces of blond hair off my forehead. “Is anyone really ready to experience a Christmas run by Guy Lucie?”
I giggle at that and shake my head. “Probably not.”
But when I glance out the window one more time, I get an idea.
I use his firm chest to push myself to a sitting position, and Luke tilts his head to the side in confusion as I hop off the bed.
“What are you doing?”
I slow-roll my response, waiting until I’ve tossed on a pair of flannel pajama pants and a hooded sweatshirt. It isn’t until I’m slipping on my socks that I let him know the score. “Last person to make a snow angel has to be on hot chocolate duty for the whole day.”
“Oh, what the fuck,” he questions and jumps out of bed faster than I knew was even possible.
Adrenaline rushes into my veins as I slip on my boots and try to tie the laces.
But Luke is fast. Like, insanely fast. By the time both of my shoelaces are tied, he is already dressed and damn near beating me out my bedroom door.
In a rush of giggles and shouting, I race down the steps as fast as I can, Luke right on my tail the whole way.
We are loud, probably too loud for this early in the morning, but I don’t care.
During the holidays, my family consumes way too much hot chocolate. Like, Buddy the Elf kind of shit. I’d be busy all freaking day if refills became my responsibility!
Just as my hands make contact with the knob of the front door, Luke wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me back.
“No! No! No! That’s cheating!”
He just laughs his ass off and tosses me over his shoulder.
With me shouting and laughing and punching at his back, he opens the door with ease and steps out into the frigid morning air. Snow continues to fall from the sky, and Luke just glances around the front yard like he has all the time in the world.
Even going as far as stretching his free arm into the air and pretending to yawn.
“What a beautiful morning, huh?”
“Luke London, put me down!”
“What was that, Ace?” he asks and tilts his head up toward me. “It’s hard to hear you over Michael Bublé.”
He’s not wrong; good old Bublé is still blaring from the freaking speakers in the front yard, but I know the sneaky bastard can hear me.
“Put. Me. Down. Or. Else.”
“I’m sorry, I mean, I could be wrong, but it sounds like you just threatened me…”
“Because I did!”
He grins up at me, mischief and mayhem in his eyes, and before I know it, from over his shoulder to cradled like a baby against his chest, he repositions my body with ease.
And then he steps out into the front yard, grins down at me, and performs a trust fall right into the snow.
He doesn’t let go until his body is imprinted into the cold, fluffy cloud that is now my parents’ yard, and it is only then that he stretches out both of his arms and legs and makes a goddamn snow angel.
“I can’t be sure, but this feels a lot like victory.”
“You are such a cheater!” I shout at him and grab both of his shoulders, glaring down at him.
But Luke just continues making his snow angel, smiling up at me the whole time.
“This means I won, right?” he questions. “Pretty sure this means I won.”
My glare flames and sparks, and still perched on his stomach, I reach down to grab two handfuls of snow in my bare hands, ready to shove them straight into his face.
The bastard is too quick, though, reaching out to stop my momentum and flipping me onto my back. His body hovers over mine, while his hands ensure my wrists can’t finish the job.
“Oh my God!” I exclaim, but it becomes impossible for me to stay angry when Luke is grinning down at me like that. “Ugh! You make me so mad!” I add, but giggles follow every word.
“But you’re giggling, Ace. How can you be giggling if you’re mad?”
I blink my eyes several times, trying to see past the soft, dusty illusions that have settled on my eyelashes. “Because you also drive me insane.”
Luke chuckles, but in an instant, his eyes go from playful to serious. He leans down to press a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth. “Merry Christmas, Ava,” he whispers against my skin. “There isn’t anyone else on the planet that I’d want to spend this day with.”
“Ditto,” I whisper, and my breath is pale against the numbing air.
His eyes search mine, and I don’t know what he’s looking for or what he finds, but whatever it is, it makes him smile.
My gaze flits to his lips, and I reach up, placing both my hands on his cool skin, and gen
tly tug his face toward mine. But before I get to do what I really want to do—kiss the hell out of him—I’m startled by the sounds of the wreath on the front door jingling as it swings open.
“What the hell are you two doing out here?” I look over Luke’s shoulder to find my dad standing on the front porch, dressed head-to-toe in red velvet, black boots, and a fake white beard. A cup of hot chocolate steams from his hand.
Luke glances back toward the front of the house. “Oh, holy fuck,” he mutters, his shoulders shaking with laughter as he buries his face against my shoulder. “Am I seeing shit, or is your dad wearing a Santa suit?”
“Oh, you’re seeing crystal clear.” I giggle. “Santa Claus has officially come to town.”
Once Luke and I changed out of our wet clothes, we headed downstairs to find the whole Lucie gang—Kate and Zach, Landon and Em, and my parents—sitting around the breakfast table, feasting on Guy’s famous Christmas Day breakfast buffet.
Cinnamon rolls and pancakes.
Waffles and eggs.
Biscuits and gravy.
And well, pretty much any morning-inspired food item known to humankind.
We ate, we laughed, and we all most likely walked away from the kitchen with an extra five pounds.
But now that our bellies are full and my dad has what he calls “Guy’s Famous Christmas Tunes” playing through the Bluetooth speakers in the living room, it’s time to gather around the tree and open presents.
“Who wants to go first?” my dad asks, looking around the room, and to my utter surprise, Luke stands up from his spot beside me on the small sofa near the bay window.
“If you don’t mind, Guy, I’d like to start us off by giving Rose and your girls a gift.”
My dad’s lips curve into a smile beneath his fake white beard. “By all means, get us started, son.”
Luke walks over to the tree and picks up four large wrapped gifts, all the same size and shape, and hands one to my mom, then to Em, then to Kate, then to me. “Merry Christmas, Ace,” he says with a little wink and sits down beside me.
All four of us just kind of sit there, looking at one another, and it takes Luke saying, “Go ahead, open them” before we actually begin to tear into the wrapping paper.
But none of us anticipates what’s inside.
“Oh, Luke.” My mom gasps and puts a hand to her lips.
Em looks up at me with wide, tear-filled eyes.
Kate smiles.
And I just stare down at the gift in my lap in awe. “W-when did you do this? H-how did you do this?” I ask and lift my eyes to meet Luke’s soft gaze.
It’s the painting. The one I did of my sisters and Mom and me before I took a hiatus from painting all together.
“I saw the painting in your studio, and I just…I felt like your mom and sisters needed to have it. So, I had to borrow it from your apartment for a short while to have these prints made and framed.”
“You did this, Avie?” my dad asks, and I look up to meet his eyes. They shine with pride and love, and it makes a knot form in my throat.
All I can do is nod.
“My God, Ava. Your talent takes my breath away,” my mom whispers, her voice tender. “That’s you, you know,” she says and points to Kate. “Inside my belly, that’s you.”
Kate’s eyes shine with unshed emotion as she smiles at Mom. Then, she turns her attention to Luke. “Thank you for this,” she says. “This is…the most special gift I think I’ve ever received.”
“Me too,” Em says and leans back to rest her head against her husband Landon’s shoulder. “Ava, you’re so talented, it’s unreal.”
“She certainly is,” Luke agrees, and when a single tear flows down my cheek, he wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me close to his chest.
Within his embrace, while I look around at my mom and my dad and my sisters and the way Luke’s gift touched them, my heart wants to climb out of my chest and burrow inside his.
A few more tears slide down my cheeks, and I reach up to turn Luke’s face toward mine, gently pressing my lips to his.
“Thank you. So much,” I whisper against his mouth, and his lips quirk up into a smile against my skin.
“This was okay?” he asks, leaning back to meet my eyes again. “It was a good gift?”
“More than good,” I whisper back. “This means everything to me.”
You are everything to me.
Luke
“I’ll be honest,” I begin and sit down on the bed while Ava finishes brushing her teeth in the bathroom. “Christmas Day with your family is wonderful, but it’s also exhausting.”
She peeks around the door, the toothbrush clutched in her hand and the bristles still moving over her teeth, and giggles. “Tired?” she asks around a mouthful of toothpaste.
“Tired is an understatement.” I laugh and run a hand through my hair. “Tomorrow, we’re sleeping in. Hell, I might even skip my workout.”
“Skip your workout? What?” Ava pushes a wide-eyed, albeit dramatic, shocked look to her face. “That’s blasphemous,” she adds through a giggle and moves back into the bathroom to finish her bedtime routine.
The faucet switches on, and I glance out the window to spot snow still descending from the sky. A true white Christmas in Vermont. With Ava and her holiday-crazy family. Frankly, I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun.
Today’s events didn’t disappoint.
Between the big breakfast buffet and opening presents and drinking insane amounts of hot chocolate and her great-aunts bickering over who makes the best cookies and Ava giggling her ass off over their bickering—while eating their cookies, mind you—and watching her dad buzz around in his Santa suit, saying “Ho ho ho!” every chance he could get, this is, hands down, the best Christmas I’ve had in a very long time.
When I woke up this morning, I was nervous over the painting I had made into prints. I just wasn’t sure how Ava would react. Lately, she’s been so private and hesitant about her art. But when I spotted that painting in her makeshift studio a few weeks ago, I felt like it would be a travesty if her family never saw it.
I simply knew they would love it, and more than that, that they’d see what I see—Ava is incredibly talented.
So much so, that my other gift proves that fact.
Although, I’ve yet to find the right moment to give it to her.
With Ava still in the bathroom, I head over to my suitcase and pull out the white envelope wrapped with a red bow. Her name scrawled across the top in my penmanship, this present signifies so many things.
That I believe in her.
That she should believe in herself.
Inside this envelope sits what could be the start of something big. But, damn, in order to get to this point, I had to show other people her art without her knowing about it.
Her family is one thing, but strangers? In the art world? I’m not normally the type of guy to second-guess anything, but it’s hard not to second-guess this.
Fuck. I want to give it to her. I’m dying to give it to her.
Yet, I have no idea what her reaction will be.
When it sounds like Ava is just about done in the bathroom, I make an impulsive decision and slide the envelope under her bed, sitting back down on the mattress.
Coward, my mind taunts me, but I shake it off and distract myself by watching her walk out of the bathroom.
Her face is scrubbed clean of makeup, her skin clear and natural. Her long blond hair flows down her back, and her ocean-blue eyes shine when they meet mine.
Goddamn, she’s beautiful.
“So…I have something for you…”
“What do you mean?” I ask, and Ava turns around to pull something out of her suitcase. Holding whatever it is behind her back, she walks over to the bed and sits down beside me.
“Here,” she says, setting down a small gift wrapped with a giant red bow.
“You got me something?” I stare down at the present in my hands.
>
“Well…don’t get too excited,” she answers, and I look up to meet her uncertain gaze. “I had no idea what to get you and—”
“It’s from you, Ace,” I cut her off with a grin. “So, whatever it is, I’m sure it’s perfect.” My fingers tear into the wrapping paper, and it doesn’t take long before the gift is bare, and the lid is off the top of the small box.
Inside sits a rectangular-shaped metal key chain with a leather strap.
The words To the Moon and Mars and back are engraved into the metal in a very familiar scrawl. And sitting right beside the words is the outline of a tiny astronaut. Hell, when I look closer, the little guy even has the words NASA and Luke inscribed in his uniform.
I look up, and she shrugs.
“You are a very hard person to buy for, but when I saw the little shop at the mall and the guy said he could easily engrave whatever I drew into metal, I just felt like maybe you’d like it.”
“This is your handiwork?” I ask, my heart warming over the thoughtfulness.
She nods, but then she frowns a little. “Do you like it?”
“Like it?” I repeat. “Ace, I love it.”
“Yeah?” she asks, the nerves sliding out of her voice. “It’s not a dumb gift?”
I shake my head. “Far from it. It’s perfect. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Her mouth curls up into a relieved smile, and I fixate on those lips of hers. Full, pink, perfect lips I’m starting to find drive me completely wild.
She notices my mind’s new focus, and she digs her teeth into her bottom lip, a mix of uncertainty and desire finding its way into her eyes.
Fuck.
“Luke,” she whispers my name.
“What do you want, Ava?”
Silence descends upon us, but I stay patient, letting her be the one to decide.
But eventually, she does.
“You,” she whispers, and she takes it upon herself to pluck the gift out of my hands and set it on the nightstand. She stands up in front of me, removing her tank top and pajama pants and underwear, and she doesn’t stop until she’s completely naked. Just miles upon miles of Ava’s perfect body standing in front of me.