"My hero," I said with a grateful smile, not exactly keen on the idea of heading out into the freezing cold just yet.
"Give me ten," he said, kissing my forehead, then shooting out of bed, calling the dogs behind him.
I let myself sit there for all of two minutes after I heard the front door close before I remember that while this was still Crosby, that this was now my Crosby who I kind of wanted to see me looking halfway decent, not with sleep-creases in my cheek and morning breath.
So I rushed out of bed to put the coffee on, then made my way back into Crosby's bathroom, laying out my outfit for the day, brushing my teeth, then climbing into the shower that warmed up about ten times faster than the one in my apartment.
It got so steamy, in fact, that I didn't even see Crosby until the shower door was opening, and he was stepping inside.
Gloriously naked.
Yes, gloriously.
Everything about a naked Crosby was glorious.
"Really need a cup of coffee," he said, moving under the spray as his hands sank into my hips, pulling me closer. "But I need you a little bit more."
"I must be pretty important if I outrank coffee first thing in the morning, huh?" I asked, giving him a saucy smile as his hands sank into my backside.
"You have no idea," he agreed before he gave me my first, and second, and third gifts for Christmas.
"Are you sure this is okay?" I asked, waving at my outfit.
Sure, I'd met Noel, and Clarence was practically family to me already, but I hadn't met his parents. And it all felt different now. I wasn't just one of Crosby's friends anymore. Which meant I wanted them all to like me, to approve of me with their son and brother.
"You look beautiful," he assured me, piling brightly-wrapped presents into a massive bag. And our first presents are always pajamas that my parents expect us all to change into anyway.
"Please tell me they don't match," I said, laughing. "We would look like a cult."
"There's usually a theme to them, but not exactly matching."
"Okay. So, what is the dog situation?" I asked, looking at Lock and Lillybean cuddling on the couch while Dasher squeaked a little gingerbread man toy. "I mean Lock and Lillybean are fine. But Dasher? Do we want to take the risk of all-around-the-place accidents? Or do we want to risk him whining and ruining the neighbors' holiday by locking him up?"
"I vote we close all the doors down the hall and hope for the best."
"Good plan," I decided, going to do just that while he finished packing up, then flicking on the TV so the dogs had some background noise.
And it was all just so normal, so comfortable.
"Wow," I said when Crosby led me into his parents' living room a little while later. "And here I was thinking you had the best decorations."
"Not even close," he admitted as we moved into the open space.
If Crosby's apartment was nice, his parents' was spectacular. It was very similar in design, in style, but everything was bigger, just a little more upscale.
The tree was a massive thing that nearly touched the high ceilings and was decorated in colored lights and bulbs.
"This is tree number one," he explained. "There are two more," he added, leaning me in toward the sound of voices around a corner where the kitchen was located.
Then there they were.
The absolutely most perfect family in the world.
The two gorgeous, loving, giving, stable parents and their three very different, but very close children.
And I got to be a part of it.
The perfect family.
And the perfect Christmas.
With the most perfect man at my side.
"You okay?" Crosby asked some time later while we sat cross-legged beside the second tree in the family room, the one decorated with personal ornaments that each had its own story. From the dining room ceiling spider that was a tradition on Crosby's mom's side to the little yarn ornaments he and his siblings all made in elementary school.
Discarded wrapping paper and clothing boxes were scattered around us, covering damn near every inch of the room because when Crosby's family did Christmas, they did it big, presents included. I had never gotten so many presents in a single holiday before. Hell, I was pretty sure all the presents I'd ever gotten from my mother combined since birth equaled what I got from Crosby's family. They'd even gotten Lockjaw toys and treats.
"Your family is like a greeting card. Or a Hallmark movie. I used to watch holiday movies featuring the perfect family and feel like they didn't actually exist, but also really wanting to be part of a family just like that. And here you all are. Being all perfect."
"And you are a part of it," he finished for me, nudging my shoulder with his. "I've spent every Christmas Day since we met here, all the while wishing you were with me. It's almost hard to believe you're here now."