by Ellie Wade
“Careful, Leo,” Mr. Harding warns, his voice low and menacing.
“Fuck off, Dad,” Leo responds.
“It’s Christmas, asshole,” Stephen adds. “Keep your shit together.”
We haven’t been here ten minutes, and my chest hurts. My heart hammers wildly, and I bite the inside of my cheek so hard that I taste blood.
“How’s school?” Mr. Harding asks, his voice monotone.
“Fine, not like you care,” Leo grumbles.
“If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t ask. Do you always have to be such a dick, Leo?” Stephen gripes.
“Caring isn’t a prerequisite for actions in this house. There are many things that are said and done, and none of them are a result of compassion,” Leo utters, his icy blues staring out the window. His entire demeanor is cold.
“It’s Christmas,” Leo’s mother sighs. “Can we all please try to be civil?”
“Sure, Mother.” Leo turns from the window and sits beside me on the leather sofa. “How’s work, Dad?” Leo asks in a snide voice.
“Good, of course. Your brother has an incredible mind for business. Stephen, tell Leo about the deal you made last week.”
“While you all talk business, I’m going to give Alma a tour,” Cat says sweetly, standing up.
“Oh, that’s nice of you.” Mrs. Harding smiles toward her daughter-in-law.
I glance at Leo. I’m not sure I should leave him right now.
“It’s fine,” he whispers and squeezes my knee gently. His smile is forced, but I stand and follow Cat anyway.
When we’re out of earshot, she says, “The tension in there, right?”
“Yeah, it’s a lot. Is it always that bad?” I ask.
“Pretty much. The Hardings are definitely dysfunctional. They’re so broken, I don’t know if they can mend it.” She leads me into the library.
“Wow. This room is amazing. Who’s the book nerd?” I ask. My fingers caress the leather-bound covers of a row of classics.
“No one.” She chuckles. “It’s all for show. Most things in this house are.”
Her last sentence almost sounds like a warning, but before I can ask her what she means, she continues walking, and I follow.
“I would be in here all the time if I lived here,” I say. “I love books. So, how long have you been married to Stephen?”
“Three years. We met four years ago at one of my shows in Prague.”
“Your shows?”
“Yeah, I was a model.”
“I thought so,” I say, hoping she knows it’s a compliment.
We enter a room that has floor-to-ceiling windows, some fancy chairs, and lots of plants.
“What’s this room for? Does anyone use it?” I wonder.
“I’ve never seen anyone in here, but I imagine it’d be a great place to read a book, if that was the sort of thing anyone here did.” She grins. “I know Stephen seems like an ass, but I assure you, he has a good heart and a kind side. The men of this house don’t bring out the best in each other, if you haven’t noticed.”
“Yeah, I got that impression.”
Cat’s heels stop clicking against the tiled floor, and she spins to face me. “Are you and Leo serious?”
I squint my eyes in confusion. “Um, yeah.”
“So, you love him, and he loves you?” she clarifies.
“Yes, very much,” I state, still wondering where this line of questioning is heading.
She lets out a relieved breath. “Good. I’m so glad. He needs someone to truly love him.” She peeks over my shoulder, as if she’s afraid someone is listening. “I need to talk to you but not here. If you’re sure about your relationship with Leo, I think there are some things you should know that might help”—she pauses, as if trying to find the right words—“you understand him a little better.”
“Is it bad? Should I worry?” I pull in a breath. “You’re kind of freaking me out, Cat.” I attempt a chuckle, but it falls flat.
“You’re safe and fine … it’s nothing like that. I just know some things that I’m sure Leo hasn’t told you, but I think you should know.”
“Is it about his nightmares?”
Her hand goes to her chest, and she looks distraught. “He still has those?”
I nod.
“Let me see your phone,” she whispers. “We really can’t talk here.”
I hand over my cell, and she inputs her number. “Call me this week, and we’ll do lunch.”
A loud crash of glass shattering echoes from the other room.
“Oh shoot,” Cat sighs.
“What?” I grab her arm, panicking.
“I think Christmas dinner is over—at least for you. Such a bummer.” She frowns, and I know she means it. “Call me this week.” She nods and squeezes my hand.
“Alma!” Leo roars.
“Bye!” Cat calls as I run past her toward Leo’s voice.
TWENTY-SIX
Alma
I chase after Leo, not even bothering to wave good-bye to his family, and follow him out the front door. I weave around the stone work on the ground, so my heel doesn’t get caught in one of the seams. The perfect ending to this failed dinner would be a trip to the emergency room.
“Leo,” I urge him to slow, but he doesn’t seem to hear me.
He jumps in the driver’s seat of his Porsche. I slide into the passenger side and buckle my seat belt as he speeds out of the drive, rocks and snow spraying out behind us.
As we approach the end of the Hardings’ property, the back of the car fishtails, and I press my hand to the dash to steady myself.
“Leo! Slow down!” I demand.
He’s still lost in his head.
“Slow down, or let me out right now!” I grab his arm to get his attention.
His eyes dart toward me.
“Please, stop this,” I plead.
His brutal stare softens as my gaze holds his for just a second. He resumes a normal speed as we pull onto the main road. His fingers wring around the steering wheel, and his chest heaves.
“What happened? Are you okay?”
“Same shit that always happens, Alma. Same. Fucking. Shit.” He hits the steering wheel with his palm at each word.
“Hey.” I massage the back of his neck. “It’s okay. You don’t have to go back there. We’re gone. It’s just me and you now.”
He nods once, his eyes focused on the road.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask hesitantly.
“No.” His answer is final.
I don’t press him further, though I keep my hand on his leg, so he knows that I’m here if he needs me. The thirty-minute drive back to Leo’s house feels longer, as the entirety of it is spent in an awkward silence and palpable anger.
Once parked in his driveway, I hurry out of the car and follow him up the steps. Our fluffy Christmas tree twinkles with lights in the front window, and sadness hits me. So much for starting new traditions today.
I jog after Leo as he takes the stairs up to the second level, two at a time. He yanks off his tie and jacket and drops them to the floor. I remove my heels and shimmy out of my skintight red dress. Rifling through my bag, which I refuse to unpack here even though I stay here most nights, I locate my reindeer fleece jammies that I packed just for today. I’m meeting up with Amos later tonight for our Christmas tradition, but until then, jammies it is.
Before I can put on the pajamas, Leo is behind me, his bare chest rising and falling against my back. “I need you, baby.” His plea is pained.
“I’m here,” I reassure him.
He splays his hand against my back and presses me against the bed. I hear the condom wrapper before Leo nudges my feet further apart with his. He thrusts into me in one quick motion, and I yell into the comforter. He fills me so completely, taking me intense and harsh. He grips my hips, almost bruising me as he pulls me back against him, my body meeting each of his thrusts with force. Harder and faster. I whimper into the mattress, the soft materi
al catching my cries. It’s so unlike anything we’ve done before. There are no words of love, just immediate need, and I find it … hot.
Each time he pounds into me, I feel as if I were going to rip open but I want more. My orgasm hits, fierce and quick. My body shakes with satisfied tremors, and Leo bellows his release.
“Oh, baby.” Leo twists my body to face him and kisses me. His tongue swirls with mine, and he pulls my lip between his teeth.
He removes the condom and tosses it in the trash without taking his mouth from mine. “I love you, Alma. I need you so much, baby. I love you. I need you.” His words of adoration break my heart.
“I love you, Leo. I’m here.” I run my fingers through his hair, pulling his face closer to mine.
“Promise me,” he begs. “Promise me, Alma.”
“I promise, Leo. I promise,” I swear against his lips. I have no idea what I’m promising, but whatever he needs, I’ll give it to him willingly.
He reaches over to the bedside table and grabs another condom foil. Ripping it open, he quickly puts it on and enters me again. This time, he makes love to me, his tongue in my mouth mirroring the movements below. I squeeze his ass, urging him deeper inside of me. He feels so good. I’m glad that Leo was my first, and I pray that he’s my only. There’s never been two people who fit this well together. He is everything to me. I don’t have all of the pieces to the puzzle, but it doesn’t matter. What I have—what Leo’s given me—is enough. The parts that he wants to keep hidden from me are his, and if he doesn’t want to share them, that’s okay. He’s enough, just as he is.
We come undone together, and he falls atop me, his body slick with sweat. I trace light circles across his back as our breathing slows.
Rolling off of me, he discards the condom and grabs another.
“Are you serious?” I say in disbelief.
He sits back against the headboard. “Come here.” He motions.
I crawl toward him and straddle his lap before sinking onto him.
“Yeah,” he breathes. “Faster, baby.”
I ride Leo until my thighs burn. His face is a contortion of pleasure and peace, and the sight makes me bounce faster. If this is how Leo releases the pain, then I’m all in. This, I can do.
He buries his face into my chest as he growls and thrusts his hips into me, releasing into the condom.
“Fuck,” he moans. “I could fuck you all day, baby.”
“I see that,” I say, humor in my voice as I roll off of him.
“You didn’t come that time. Let me make it up to you.” He rolls atop me, pressing me back into the bed as he kisses down my body.
“Leo, I’m fine. You don’t have—” My protests are silenced when he starts to lick my most sensitive area.
When I’m beyond sated and my limbs feel like jelly, Leo kisses back up my sensitized skin. “Let’s take a shower,” he says.
“Okay.” I grin lazily, running my fingers through his damp hair.
Before walking to the bathroom, he grabs another condom packet. “You really need to get on birth control,” he says with a smirk.
“Shower sex? Seriously?”
“It’s my new Christmas tradition. Getting lost in you.”
Leo leaves the bathroom first as I wrap a towel around my wet hair. Looking up to the fogged bathroom mirror, I see he’s written I love you on the reflective surface.
The sentiment is adorable, but the clean freak in me cringes. “You know the oils on your fingers will stay on the mirror in a smudge until you clean it off.”
“So? Then, I’ll be reminded of you every time I look in the mirror. Or at least, until the cleaner comes.” He chuckles.
I secure the towel around my chest and brush my teeth. Once finished, I pull a brush through my hair. All the sex has made me sleepy. I’d love to curl up on the couch and watch Christmas movies with Leo, but I know Amos is on his way.
“I’m kind of tired, so I won’t be gone long,” I say as I wipe the mascara that I had on for Christmas dinner at Leo’s parents’ off from under my eyes with some makeup remover.
Leo stands at the entrance of the bathroom. “You’re leaving?”
The tone in his voice sounds off, and I turn to face him. “I mean, I’m supposed to meet up with Amos for our Christmas thing, but if you need me, I could call him and reschedule.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “Just go. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. You have plans. It’s cool.”
“We’re just going to exchange gifts. I won’t be long,” I reassure him.
“It’s fine. Just go.”
He retreats from the bathroom and starts for downstairs. His words said one thing, but his body language said another. I don’t feel good about leaving him, but I did make plans with Amos.
Grabbing my cell from the bedroom, I call Amos.
“Hey! Merry Christmas! I’m almost to your dorm. I’m about five minutes out.”
“You are?”
“Yeah. We’re still on, right?” he questions.
“Yeah, of course. I’ll see you soon.”
I hurry and put on my jeans and a sweatshirt. I’ll be gone an hour, tops. I shouldn’t feel guilty about that. This has been planned, and Leo’s known about it. I love Leo, and I want to be here for him, but we have to have normal boundaries too. I can’t drop plans with my oldest friend because Leo’s in a mood. It wouldn’t be fair to any of us. That’s not how life works.
It will be fine.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Alma
Campus is eerily calm tonight. Most houses lie dark. The fresh snow is undisturbed in the yards. I suppose most people my age are home with family on Christmas. It’s surreal, passing the places that are usually loud and alive but are now peaceful and blanketed in white.
I walk slower, absorbing this winter wonderland. My footsteps alone crunch into the sidewalk snow, and I can’t help but feel like this gift of serenity is for me. After an unusual and completely random day, the calm nurtures my soul, and I cherish it.
As much as I complain about the snow and cold of my state, I have to admit that a fresh snowfall is one of the most amazing things. It drapes the world in a fresh beginning, a seasonal reminder that anyone can start anew. Chaos can be silenced. Ugly can be hidden.
“There’s my Christmas Cookie.” I smile wide at the sight of my best friend leaning against the brick of the building.
“I could’ve swung by and picked you up, you know?”
“I know. I enjoyed the fresh air.” I swipe my badge over the keypad to unlock the entrance door, and we step inside. “How was home?” I ask as we walk up the stairs.
“Fine.” The response is less than enthusiastic. “Mom sent some leftovers back for you. Remind me to give them to you later. They’re in the car.”
“Oh, yay! That’s awesome. Did you see my parents?” I ask while opening up the door to my room.
“No, didn’t see them. Did you hear from them at all?”
We step inside the room, and Amos sets down his gift bags. Quinn went home for the two-week holiday break and took every piece of clothing and bed linen with her to wash. Without her half of the room covered in clothes, the space seems bigger.
“I called and left a message and then a text. No response. I’m not surprised.” I shrug.
There’s a look of pity in Amos’s eyes, but I ignore it.
“So, candy or presents first?” I ask, clapping my hands together.
“Always candy. We need to eat while opening our presents, silly.”
I retrieve Amos’s wrapped gift from beneath my desk and sit across from him on my bed. He dumps a bag of candy atop my comforter.
“Ooh, clearly, your mom misses you. This is double your normal stocking load,” I say, picking up a chocolate-covered marshmallow Santa. “Chocolate-covered marshmallows are my favorite.” I sigh and take a bite.
“I know they are.” Amos grins and opens a Reese’s Santa. Chocolat
e-covered peanut butter is his favorite.
From our very first Christmas as friends, when Amos found out that Santa didn’t visit my home and my parents didn’t believe in sugar, he’s been splitting his stocking candy with me. We exchanged handmade gifts that first Christmas too. I had made him a pencil topper out of aluminum foil. It was supposed to be a robot, but looking back, I realize it was just an aluminum foil blob. He had made me a bracelet, constructed out of some of his mother’s multicolored craft string. It was a pathetic, thin, little, braided bracelet, but it’s still one of my favorite possessions.
I have a shoebox full of everything meaningful in my life in the top drawer of my dresser. I have spelling bee medals, photos, certificates, and the gifts from Amos—including that bracelet.
“Oh, Dove! Grab your fortune,” I tell Amos as I take a foil-covered chocolate and unwrap it. “Mine says, Love is the only true adventure,” I read from the inside of the wrapper. “Aw. Sweet. What’s yours?”
Amos unwraps his chocolate and reads it. “You are exactly where you need to be.”
“Perfect. I’m in love, and life with Leo is never boring; that’s for sure.” I chuckle. “And you are kicking ass at the college of your dreams and making your life goals come true. See, the Dove gods know.”
“They haven’t failed us yet,” Amos agrees.
“Speaking of love, do you love Quinn?” I pop another chocolate in my mouth.
“I’m not sure. How do you know? I mean, I definitely like her, and the sex is great.”
“Sex isn’t love.” I shake my head, a slight smirk on my face.
“I know that. That’s why I’m not sure. I enjoy being with her and look forward to seeing her when we’re apart, so maybe I do love her.”
“I think if you did, you’d know. It’s undeniable.”
“For you, it is. Maybe, for me, it’s different.”
“True,” I agree. “Well, are you ready for your presents?”
“Plural?” Amos quirks up a brow.
We’ve always agreed to just do one.
“It’s all connected.” I hand him the first box. “These were like my trial run. So, they don’t count as the gift.”