“Well, I support you in that,” I said. “If you want to get a real tree, we can get one for the living room.”
His eyes went wide. “Holy shit. I would love that.”
“We’ll get one after we’re back from Thanksgiving, then,” I said.
“I never had a real tree growing up,” Brody said.
“Wait, really? Never?”
He shook his head, looking down at the little tree and its glowing lights. “Not once. My mom just thought it was easier to get one that didn’t require any maintenance. We didn’t have much money, and we used the same tree for my whole childhood, and we didn’t ever have many presents.”
I thought about my own Christmases growing up. My parents didn’t go big for many holidays, but Christmas was the one exception. They’d almost been lavish, some years, and no matter what, we always had a big tree decked out with lights and ornaments, absolutely bursting with presents at the bottom. My heart ached knowing that Brody had never had the same experience.
“We always get together with Sam’s family to have a big dinner party the week of Christmas,” I said.
“Sam? From Red’s Tavern?”
I nodded. “A huge dinner with ham, fresh-baked bread, so many sides and desserts,” I said. “We always held it at my house. It was my favorite time of year by far.”
Brody was looking at me with wonder. “It sounds beautiful.”
“It always has been,” I agreed. “But I like this little tree, too.”
Brody gave me a lopsided grin. “Yeah? I wanted my room to feel cozier. More homey and festive. And I want you to feel comfy in here, too.”
He took another step toward the edge of the bed, bringing a hand to my thigh and rubbing it in a rhythmic motion as he gazed down at me. My hard-on had flagged a little as we talked about our families, but now it was rapidly coming back, standing at attention.
There was no doubt Brody could see that through my boxer briefs now. He stopped briefly and took off his own pants, and I pulled off my hoodie as he slid back into bed beside me again, the heat of his body even more delicious now in the relative cold of the room.
And, seemingly without thinking at all, he kissed me again, running one palm along my chest as he pressed his lips to mine. It still felt like a surprise every time he touched me like this, so easily intimate and comfortable even though I felt like I was coming apart at the seams deep inside.
But Sam always said “fake it ‘til you make it.”
Maybe that’s just what I had to do with Brody. Maybe I’d never feel like I knew what I was doing, even if I wanted it desperately—more than anything I’d ever wanted.
My whole life, I’d been so preoccupied with always knowing what I was doing, always excelling, always being afraid to step outside of my comfort zone.
I’d never known how much I was missing.
12
Brody
I couldn’t keep my hands off of Logan. Couldn’t keep my lips off of him, either, apparently, because now they were wandering lower again, kissing the side of his neck. He smelled just as good as he always did, somehow fresh like warm vanilla even after a party. I buried my fingers in his downy hair, letting myself get lost in him.
It had been a long time since I’d let myself get lost in someone quite like this, still heavily tipsy after a party that had been so much more fun with Logan.
I was always keeping my distance, even if it was just internally. It didn’t matter how much I enjoyed any hookups over the past couple of years—inside, I was always aware that everything was casual, and nothing would ever become serious.
Honestly, I didn’t even care if the alcohol in my blood was making me feel too many things.
Because Logan just felt like home.
And it was starting to feel like something I wanted to go back to, over and over again, in a way I never let myself feel. He wasn’t like any home I’d ever known, but it was something so much better than that. He was more like the home I’d always wanted, but never had. Like somewhere I’d dreamed about for my whole life, never really knowing if it existed in reality. The kind of home where fresh laundry is tumbling away in a dryer, where something wonderful is always baking in the oven, where you can always smell the faint scent of the backyard pine trees coming through the windows on the breeze. Where Christmastime was about warmth and family, not stressing more than ever over money and taking extra shifts at work.
My life had been so different from Logan’s. But it still felt like he understood me.
And he was slowly starting to invite me into his world. To let down his guard, just for me. And fuck, Logan’s world was a place I really wanted to spend time in.