by Gray, Kiska
An hour later, I was stirring a big pot of cocoa on the stove. The rich aroma rose up to fill the small kitchen when I poured the milk slowly into the sugary-cocoa mixture. Now all I had to do was let it warm up without it scalding and voila! I grabbed my favorite mug out of the cabinet; it was white with a sketchy hedgehog on the front that said, “I’m Just A Little On Hedge.” Too cute.
I heard the front door open and grabbed a second coffee mug, then ladled us both out two steaming cups of Ma’s hot cocoa. Gideon came into the kitchen, his leather jacket peppered with snowflakes that quickly melted in the warmth of the house. He ran a hand through his hair and sniffed. “That smells great. Do I get some?”
“Duh.” I gently thrust a mug into his hands. “Ma’s recipe.”
“I’ll gladly burn my tongue on this, thanks.” He took a gulp, then winced. “Damn, that’s hot.”
I shook my head and set the pot on the back burner to cool. “You’re a moron. C’mon.” I grabbed my cup and led the way into the living room. Gideon followed me to the couch and we sat down. I blew on my cocoa, steam rising up to warm my nose. When it was cool enough to drink, I savored every sip. “Mmm.”
“I’m not a huge chocolate fan, but man. This is the best hot cocoa I’ve ever had in my life. Compliments to the chef.” He winked and my insides turned to goo. He had that effect on me. Every damn time. “It’s snowing again. Surprise, surprise.”
“Are the roads bad?” I asked.
He seemed to consider it for a moment. “Nah, not really. Why? Got a hot date?”
“Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight and admire the city’s Christmas lights. I don’t know if you’ve ever been, but there are some amazing decorations that span entire buildings. My parents used to take us every year. We’d spend an entire evening driving slowly through the city, taking our time. I thought maybe you’d wanna come with?”
I wasn’t getting my hopes up, but I thought I’d offer anyway. To my surprise, Gideon agreed. “Sure. I told you I’d give it a chance, didn’t I? If this is important to you, then we’ll do it.”
“Really?” I bit my lip to try and hide my smile. I failed miserably. “Thank you.”
The days were getting shorter and shorter, it seemed. It was dark by five-thirty now. After dinner, I reheated the hot cocoa and poured it into two travel mugs. We put our coats on and with our drinks in tow, we crunched our way across the parking lot to where Gideon’s Charger was parked. It was already toasty warm inside when we got in—thank the good lord for automatic starters—and I told him where to go.
I turned the radio on low, only loud enough for the Christmas music to set the mood. Thankfully, Gideon didn’t gripe about it like he had last week when I’d played my Kenny G album. We drove through the city and when we came upon the first mural, my heart swelled with happiness.
It was glorious. Thousands of colorful lights flickered to create a massive Santa Claus with rosy cheeks, his face plastered across the length of a red brick warehouse. Every now and then, it looked like he was winking.
“Dad was always determined to decorate our house as awesome as this,” I murmured.
“Did he do it?”
“Most of the time, yeah. We used to joke that you could see our house from an airplane, it was so bright. The busiest, most colorful house on the block.” I grinned. “Our yard was filled with blow-up Santas and snowmen, and he even had a lighted cut-out of the Grinch up on the roof. It was great.”
“Wow.” Gideon stared at the mural as we drove slowly past. With each building lit up with decorations, from sleighs and Christmas cookies, to elves and presents, Gideon’s smile grew bigger. Maybe he was the Grinch. Maybe his cold heart would grow three sizes this year. I giggled and when he looked at me, I could only shrug.
“Wanna walk through the park?” I asked when we came to the street it was on. “They’ve got their Festival of Lights thing up.”
He deadpanned. “Mika, it’s twenty degrees outside. You know how cold that is? It’s cold.”
“I know, but it’s once a year? Pretty please? You can warm your hands up on my butt later if you’d like.” I winked exaggeratedly at him and wiggled in my seat. I had him where I wanted him, and he knew it.
With a chuckle, he put the car in park and we got out. I pulled my gloves from my coat pockets and slipped them on over my fingers. Gideon stuck his hands beneath his armpits, because he still hadn’t gotten a proper winter coat. Guess who’s problem that was? Not mine.
All along the park trail, the city had set up life-sized figures made of plastic and rope lighting, which flickered and danced against the frosty ground. We walked past a huge sleigh with reindeer at its mast, Rudolph’s nose glowing cherry red in the darkness.
“Would you believe me if I told you my dad had a Rudolph tattoo?”
Gideon snorted. “What?”
“He did. I’m telling you, the man was cuckoo for Christmas. He got a tattoo of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer right across the back of his left calf. He tried to convince Ma to get a matching one.” I laughed at the idea of Ma in her scrubs with a gaudy reindeer inked on her arm. “She settled for a small bit of holly instead, if only to humor him.”
“Did it?”
“It did,” I said. “He was pleased as pie.”
“Are you gonna get a Christmas tattoo, Mika? In honor of your old man?” I couldn’t tell if Gideon was teasing me, or if he was being serious. If we were being honest? He looked a little bit lost. I reached out and laced my fingers through his. Our arms swung between us as we walked through the exhibit.
“Thought about it. It was a toss up between that or my bow and arrow. I know Dad would’ve tried to talk me into getting a cringe-y Santa Claus tattoo if he were still here. It’s how he was. He was a big kid at heart.”
“How did he die?” Gideon’s voice was soft and low.
“Car accident. It was a hit-and-run, just a couple weeks before Thanksgiving. They never found the guy who did it. That year was…really hard for me. I wanted to cancel Christmas, but Ma wouldn’t let us. She said that he’d want us to celebrate in his memory, so we did. She was right, of course. Since then, throwing myself into the holidays makes it hurt a little less.”
I stopped to look at the huge fir tree wrapped in lights and garland, with big shiny ornaments dangling from its limbs. I dragged in an icy breath and let it back out in a plume of white. Gideon squeezed my hand.
“He’d be proud of you,” he said.
“I know. I’m proud of me, too.”
We stood there and admired the tree. Gideon wrapped an arm around my waist to draw me closer. I leaned my cheek against his chest, then peered up at him. “So is it as bad as you expected?”
“No,” he said softly. “It’s…beautiful, actually. I’ve never done anything like this. Never put up a tree, never wrapped gifts for my friends. Memories can be shitty and this time of the year only reminds me of what I didn’t have. Honestly, I spent last year pretty much shitfaced till after New Years. This year, I haven’t even had spiked eggnog.”
I grinned. “I’m down for some spiked nog.”
“And gingerbread cookies?”
“Let’s get drunk tonight. I’m feeling it.”
“Do I still get to warm my hands up on this perfect bubble butt of yours?” He stepped into my space and patted my ass with both hands. I shoved him with my shoulder, but he caught my chin, grazing my cheek with the side of his hand, and everything inside of me fell as silent as the snow. Gideon’s mouth curved into a smile that reached out and rung my heart like a bell.
He kissed me.
I melted.
“My bubble butt is all yours,” I murmured against his lips when I finally caught my breath. His chuckle was a rasp against my nerve endings and all I could think about was getting him home and undressed. We could spike the eggnog after.
Merry Christmas to me.
19
Gideon
“How about this one?”
Izzy plucked the strings on his bass. The sound reverberated through the room as he began to sing a Christmas parody about getting blackout drunk. When he finished, he bowed dramatically. “I call it, “All I Want For Christmas Is Booze.” What do you think? It’s gonna go platinum, baby, hell yeah.”
“Save some wine for the rest of us, Izzy, god.” Ivy crowed with laughter, raising her red Solo cup to the sky. Her cheeks were ruddy from how much alcohol she’d already consumed, but we were having a grand time. I had a nice tall rum and coke and got to beat on my drums for a few hours. Life was good.
Lazarus sat on the sofa, his boyfriend Bex in his lap and his guitar set off to the side. He had his arms wrapped around the younger man and both of them were grinning like they were in on some big secret that the rest of us could never know about. Laz looked happier than I’d ever seen him, and I’d known him practically all my life.
Even though sleeping with Owen had been a total dick move on my part, one I regretted, Laz was better off for it. He and Bex had something special. Even a dolt like me could tell that. I had a good feeling that we’d be getting wedding invitations in a year or two—and what a wedding that would be. I’d probably spend the reception drunk as hell, but fuck it. If Laz and Bex wanted to tie the knot, more power to them.
Just because I never planned to get hitched didn’t mean that they couldn’t enjoy it.
“Sooo, Gideon,” Ivy purred. “When do we get to meet Prince Charming?”
I pinned her with a droll look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, cut the shit, Gid,” Izzy said with a snort of disbelief. “We all know you’re totally into this guy. It’s obvious. So what’s the deal with him? Inquiring minds want to know.”
“It’s not like that at all.”
“Really? Because I can’t help but notice that you’ve been a hell of a lot easier to deal with this winter.” It was Laz who cut me off this time. Damn it, was he in on this little intervention, too? “You’ve been happier, been smiling more—plus you’re not drunk off your ass and Christmas is only a couple weeks away. I think this guy’s good for you, whoever he is.”
“You wanna know what I think? I think Gideon’s in loooove.”
“Fuck off, Ivy. Jesus Christ, you guys, what Mika and I have is only temporary. We’re just seeing each other till the holidays are over, that’s all. It didn’t feel right that he should have to spend them alone.”
“Oh, you’re such a martyr, aren’t you?”
“I said fuck off!” I bashed the cymbal hard enough that I felt the vibration all the way up my arm. The sound crashed loud, ringing my ears. Izzy gaped at me. “I’m not in love. I don’t do love. You all should know this by now,” I growled between gritted teeth.
I wasn’t sure what it was that riled me up so badly, but I could feel the blood rushing through my skull as if I’d just run ten miles. I took a deep breath. “It’s temporary. The end.”
It was obvious that none of my friends were convinced. Laz looped his arms around Bex’s shoulders. The twins shared a knowing glance, but dropped the subject. Izzy turned his attention to pouring another oversized glass of red wine, while Ivy busied herself with strumming a one-chord song on her Fender. None of them said anything, for once, which gave me time to catch my spiraling thoughts.
Temporary, I reminded myself, as if I could somehow cement that fact into my brain.
“Well, even if you aren’t in love with him, I still say you’ve been happier this winter. So that’s something, right? I know. You should bring him along to our Friendsmas.” Laz grinned. “I always make too much food anyway, so what’s one more mouth to feed? Think about it?”
I blew out a sigh. “Sure. Whatever. I don’t know what you’re trying to prove, but why not? I’ll invite him, if that’ll get you off my back.” I tapped my drumsticks against the head of the snare, then pushed myself to my feet. “I’m actually… I’m gonna go. Not like we’ll get anything done with these two numbskulls all wined up.”
“Jealous?” Ivy teased.
I didn’t rise to the bait. I grabbed my jacket off the back of the couch and headed for the door when Laz called after me, “Hey, don’t forget! We’re doing that gig after New Years. Better get practicing.”
I didn’t answer him. I just kept walking, right out the front door and out to my car. I’d only had a couple of drinks and my alcohol tolerance was through the roof after the life I’d lived, so I wasn’t too worried.
I sank down in the driver’s seat, the leather hissing softly beneath me, and gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. Goddamnit. I breathed in and let it back out slowly, closing my eyes on the exhale. What did it matter what they thought? Mika and I both knew the rules of this little affair. It was temporary bliss, that was all there was to it.
But on the drive home, all my doubts came tumbling down on top of me. Truth was? I was getting attached—hell, I was already attached. Mika and I fit each other damn near perfectly. I loved having him around. He always knew what to say to make me laugh, not to mention it was the best sex of my life and he was always up for a romp in the sheets. Or on the kitchen table. Or in the shower.
Would a relationship with Mika really be that bad?
My stomach twisted and a chill seeped through my bones. It wasn’t the relationship I was afraid of. It was what came after. Marriage. Kids. Giving up my career as a musician to be there for a family, a family I wasn’t sure I ever wanted. A family I was actually pretty sure I never wanted.
All I could remember was how my parents fought all the time. Three AM screaming matches, thrown vases and crunched up beer cans, cigarettes still smoldering in the grimy ashtray. All I could think about was the way they treated each other, the way my father beat my mother, the hatred they’d spewed like smog from a smokestack. The abuse my brother and I had gone through at their angry hands because they’d never wanted kids in the first place.
I swallowed hard and kept my eyes on the road. I didn’t want that future. Mika deserved better than that. He was young and pretty and he’d make an amazing dad one day—but not with me. No, it was better if we kept this thing short term, even if the thought of walking away from him hurt like a bitch.
It was like ripping off a band-aid. The wound would never heal if I didn’t tear it off.
20
Mika
“Sure you can handle that big old axe?” I teased when Gideon strolled into the living room with the weapon slung over his shoulder. It had a chipped red handle and the metal looked dingy, if not a little rusted. Wearing his red flannel coat and winter hiking boots, Gideon looked the part of a lumberjack.
When he chuckled, I greeted him with a kiss, which he gladly accepted. “I didn’t even know you owned an axe.”
“I don’t. I borrowed it from Laz’s garage.”
I raised a brow. “He didn’t ask you what you were gonna do with an axe?”
Gideon smirked. “He wasn’t home. He won’t even know it’s missing, sugar. I also borrowed a buttload of rope to tie it down to the roof of your car. Are you ready? Jesus, I can’t believe I’m doing this…”
“Oh, hush, you big whiner. Once we get it set up and you see how gorgeous it is, all lit up with a star at the very tip-top, you won’t be complaining.” I pointed at him. “It’ll make this place feel like something out of a Christmas movie.”
“I hate Christmas movies,” Gideon retorted.
“You won’t hate the massage I’ll give you after,” I singsonged back. “Trust me, baby. I’ll make this so worth your while.”
“Damn straight.”
We took my car, since Gideon didn’t want to risk scratching his baby. I didn’t mind. Wasn’t like another couple of scuffs was gonna hurt this old tank.
We drove to the Christmas tree farm I’d seen advertised on Facebook, and after paying the Santa Claus-looking fellow who owned the place—I’m talking big bushy beard and all—we began to wander through the forest of trees.
/> “This is the one,” I announced when I caught sight of the perfect tree. It wasn’t too tall, but it was thick and and its limbs were long and plush. I dusted snow off one of the branches with my gloved hand. “What do you think? Can you see this sucker sitting in your living room for the next couple weeks?”
“I mean, it’s a tree?”
“It’s our tree. Less talky, more choppy.”
Gideon snorted a laugh. “Yes, master.”
“Careful, I might get off on that.”
Cutting the tree down was one thing. Roping it to the roof of my car and dragging it into the elevator, on the other hand… We manhandled it through the front doors of the apartment complex while it shed little green needles all over the carpet, but we succeeded.
“I brought my decorations from home. Hope you don’t mind.” I lifted the green plastic tote in both arms and carried it into the living room, where Gideon was fumbling with the tree base. When he got it secured, he glanced over his shoulder at me. I grinned and peeled off the lid to reveal all sorts of Christmas decorations, from lights to fancy tinsel, fluffy garland and colorful ornaments.
“That’s all gonna fit on there?”
“Trust me, it’ll fit. You wanna help?”
Gideon shrugged a shoulder. “I’d rather observe,” he said, so I pointed to the couch. It was a miracle that he’d even agreed to let me put up a tree, so we’d do what he was comfortable with.
I didn’t bother decorating at home, seeing as I’d been practically living here since before Thanksgiving. It seemed to be an unspoken rule between us, that I’d stay here until whatever we were sharing was done and over.
Christmas is only a week away. I quickly pushed that thought out of my mind. No. Today was supposed to be fun and I wasn’t gonna let my anxieties overwhelm me. I’d have plenty of time for that after the holidays, while I was sitting at home crying into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s. I knew it was coming. I was too attached to just say goodbye. This would hurt and I didn’t want to think about it.