Kinsley

I inhale the steam dissipating from my peppermint hot chocolate as I stare out the bay window, taking in the astounding view. This is my first Christmas on the farm, and I feel giddy. It's as if I have spiked my hot chocolate with peppermint Schnapps instead of Starbucks' peppermint syrup.

Save for the brown tire tracks, snow blankets the dirt road. Sparkling white Christmas lights line the fence along the property. Every once in a while, I catch the glimmer of falling snowflakes. My gaze trails along the road, stopping when I come to what would be the grassy front yard. Instead of a fence, rustic wine barrels filled with boughs of pine and cedar line the snow-covered grass. They're decorated with branches of holly and paper birch and grand bows. Pinecones decorated with gold glitter are strewn within the greens. The same warm-white lights are strung throughout the arrangement, emphasizing the pops of green, gold, and red against the snow.

After collecting the boughs and other natural necessities, Daisy, Willow, and I returned to the house. The process took a few hours, as the concept of horseback fascinates Willow. She didn't want to go back inside until Daisy suggested she decorate the pinecones with gold glitter. What Daisy was thinking, I'll never know. Even after showering and scrubbing my nails, glitter still sparkles against my skin when the light hits me right.

And the stuff is everywhere.

It's in my hair. Stuck beneath my nails. Sticking to my clothes—and I'm not even wearing the same clothes I was when we were decorating the pinecones!

To my right, the wood-burning fireplace crackles and spits. There's a soft smell of smoke combined with the burning cinnamon-vanilla soy candle. While we were decorating the yard, Noel, Cole, and Jack were out collecting firewood for the fire. The mantle is decorated with garland and strung with pinecones and fake cranberries.

A lot of effort has been contributed to Christmas this year, and it causes a bittersweet ache to fill my chest. Tonight is the anniversary of the accident. My family and friends would've loved these decorations and enjoyed baking cookies and fighting with glitter. Mom probably would've yelled at me for even thinking glitter was a good idea, with Dad and Jessa laughing in the background. I'm positive Aaron and Mads would be tipsy on spiked eggnog by now. They always did love their spiced rum.

These thoughts are memories combined with fantasies. These scenes are real, but picturing them here, right now, is the fantasy. Mom always hated anything with glitter. Dad and Jessa would laugh when Mom and I got into careless arguments. Mads and Aaron loved spiking the eggnog with spiced rum. Our holiday celebrations were always entertaining.

Smiling, I take a sip of my peppermint hot chocolate. It warms my chest.

A lot has changed within the past year. Noel quit post-secondary school and continue pursuing his music career. Which has paid off. He's going on his first tour come the new year. I'm getting close to graduating and becoming a vet. Cole, Daisy, and Willow have moved in together, and I'm thinking Cole will pop the question soon. Jack's been sober for eight months, which has been beneficial for Noel, and allowed Jack and me to build a better relationship.

As for me?

I'm no longer letting memories drag me down. Memories don't separate me from my family; they bring us closer. Tonight, I'm not mourning their deaths. I'm celebrating the lives they had and making sure I live mine out to the fullest. That's why, all day, I've been baking and prepping tonight's Christmas dinner. My family's tradition is to have the big dinner on Christmas Eve, then get together on Christmas Day to skate, play cards, and enjoy leftovers.

Having people who want to share this tradition with me makes my heart melt.

Noel, Jack, Cole, Daisy, Willow, and my grandparents. Cole's parents. Daisy's parents.

Cole and Jack went to pick up my grandparents about an hour ago. Which means they should be home soon. My excitement is difficult to contain. It's been a few months since I last saw them. Plus, they've never seen the farm. They'll love everything about it. Continuing to glance at the time is making me antsy, though. Antsy with excitement and anticipation.

However, I'd be a liar if I said I wasn't concerned about their drive here. My fears aren't irrational, either. Prior to healing, I was too hard on myself—as were other people. But you can't control how others react. You can only control your own reactions.

I take another sip of my hot chocolate, trying to ease the tension from my bones. They'll make it here. I have to believe that. The roads have been plowed, and they weren't icy this morning. As I'm staring out the window, I continue with the positive pep-talk. Staying positive and not letting yourself fall into negativity is important.

Just as I'm about to take another sip of my hot chocolate, Daisy joins me at the bay window. She's dressed in an ugly Christmas sweater that's framed around the Disney Princesses. A small smile encompasses my face. I was with Willow and Daisy when they bought one for each family member. All three of them are wearing the same ugly sweater tonight, and I find it adorable.

Daisy bumps her shoulder against mine. "Your grandparents will make it here, Kinsley. Cole is an excellent driver."

My doubts aren't placed in Cole's driving skills. He's, as Daisy just said, an excellent driver. What causes my anxiety to stir are the road conditions and the heavy snowfall. As well as the actions of other drivers. Although I've done a considerable amount of healing since the accident, there are still pieces I can't shake. With it being Christmas Eve and the conditions personifying winter, I'm nervous. Plus, it's the anniversary of the accident.

"I know," I sigh. "But these conditions make me nervous."

Daisy gazes out at our masterpiece. "Which is normal, darlin'." She turns to me and squeezes my shoulder. "How are you?"

The smile doesn't slip from my lips. Not because I don't want it to, but because of my growth and how much I've overcome. Tonight, I'm happy—even if I feel a pinch of sadness. But that's normal. Emotions aren't static. They're complex and messy, and able to coincide. And that's the beauty of emotions. They mould together to create humanity.

"I feel good," I reply. "Happy. Thankful. Do I miss my family and friends? Of course I do. However, thinking about what their presence would be like here makes me feel warm inside. I know they'd all love this. From the decorations to the food to spending time with each other. That's how I know, if they're watching, that they're happy for me. They wouldn't want anything less for me. All my family and friends care about is each other's happiness. Me being happy is all they'd want."

Setting her drink down on the window, Daisy pulls me in for a hug. Some of my hot chocolate sloshes over the edge of my mug, pooling on the floor.

Ignoring the mess surrounding our feet, I hug Daisy back. After everything that's happened, I'm thankful to have people like Daisy in my life. Thankful that I could find the strength to let people in again.

"I'm proud of you," Daisy says. "You and Noel."

A small chuckle escapes my lips. "Well, I'm proud of you and Cole."

As Daisy pulls away, I notice how pink her cheeks are. She won't make eye contact with me, either. Which is rare. Daisy is a no-bullshit girl who's not afraid to not bite her tongue. She's cemented in to the ground like a stubborn weed. To see her quiet and shifting her weight between her feet is strange.

I cluck my tongue. "What's going on? You have that look on your face."

She tries to play stupid. "What look?"

"Daisy."

Leaning over, Daisy grabs her drink and takes a long gulp. While she's doing that, I search for little clues. Daisy enjoys leaving hints. She likes it when people figure out the mystery, so she doesn't have to explain it.

I focus on whatever I can. From her clothes to her expression to the glass of water on the windowsill.

A lightbulb goes off in my head.

Daisy didn't have a drink when we went out for dinner last night. Plus, she and Cole have been extra cuddly when Willow's not around. 

My gaze flicks to hers. "Are you pregnant?"

She side-eyes me with a warm grin on her face, and that's when I know the truth.

The mug slips from my hands and shatters against the hardwood as I lunge forward and pull Daisy into a bear hug.

"OH MY GOD!" I squeal. "DAISY!"

She laughs as she hugs me back. "I know! I know! It's true. I'm three months pregnant today. Cole and I will tell everyone after dinner, but we agreed you and Noel should know first."

Although I appreciate her thoughtfulness, I still have to ask why. Cole's parents and Daisy's parents will arrive soon, too. Part of me feels like they should know first. "Why?"

Her smile is so genuine, it almost kills me. "We want you and Noel to be the godparents."

I squeal again, hugging Daisy tighter. "Oh my god. Yes! A million times, yes! I'm honoured to be one of Daisy's godparents."

Daisy hugs me back. "I knew you'd say yes. Thank you so much, Kinsley. Noel was ecstatic, too."

"About the baby? Of course I was. There'll be a mini Cole running around soon. I'll be the fun uncle."

Noel enters the living room. His dirty blonde hair is damp, and he's wearing dark jeans with a red wine-coloured dress shirt. The sleeves are rolled above his elbows, displaying the sleeve tattoo up his right arm. Without hesitation, he saunters over to us and threads his arm around my shoulders. He pulls me into a half hug and presses a kiss to my temple.

I fold in to him, breathing in old leather and laundry detergent. We associate our senses with memories and emotions. After waking up beside Noel for the past few months, his smell reminds me of home. Wherever Noel is, that's where home is, and I know he feels the same about me. As long as we have each other, we're home.

"Do you think it'll be a boy?" I ask.

"Difficult to say." She rests a hand on her stomach.

My gaze follows her hand. Nothing's showing, which makes picturing her pregnant difficult. Daisy and Cole having another kid was the last thing I expected, but it makes sense. Cole finished post-secondary and used his degree to his advantage. They've also moved in together. Plus, I'm betting he'll propose in the New Year.

A small smile encompasses her lips as she glances at her stomach. "Cole and I aren't concerned about which sex the baby is. All we care about is raising him, her, or them properly in a stable home environment."

Daisy's response makes my heart melt.

Noel smiles. "Well, I can't wait to meet the baby in June. Maybe the baby will share a birthday with Cole."

Daisy snorts. "That's just what Cole needs."

"He'd love it."

"That's the issue. It'll give his ego a kick it doesn't need."

While Noel and Daisy continue with their banter, I turn back to the bay window. In the distance, I can see lights heading down the driveway. My heart soars, and I feel a smile blossom across my lips. My grandparents are here! For the first time, they get to see where I spent all my time with Noel, Cole, and Daisy two summers ago. That summer was the beginning of the end, but also the start of something better. Something I will never give up.

And when I look at Noel, who gives my shoulder a squeeze and smiles down at me, the last bit of tension eases from my posture.

I'm never giving this up.

*  *  *

Noel's gingerbread house is, well, shit.

The roof is caving in. Watery royal icing slides down the sides. Plus, he's covered in icing and icing sugar. His dress shirt looks like it was drenched in artificial snow, while his arms are crusty with hardened icing. There's also a smudge of chocolate on the corner of his mouth. He looks like a child.

He steps back and observes his gingerbread house while rubbing the stubble on his jaw. "I think the icing was too runny."

Cole snorts. "Or you're just shit at decorating gingerbread houses. Where's the structure, mate? How are gingerbread men supposed to live when the roof is caving in?"

Cole's standing over Willow, and his hands are resting on her shoulders. His comment makes Willow giggle. He squeezes her shoulders as she says, "Daddy, language."

Noel glances at Cole. "Says the one who opted out. Plus, Willow's right. You're not supposed to swear in front of children."

Cole sticks his finger in the bowl, coating it in royal icing. Then he licks it away. "Mate, if there's one thing you should learn, it's strategy. By not partaking in this activity, I failed to make a fool of myself." He glances down at Willow, who is staring up at him with her big green eyes. "Sweetie, Daddy swore because he was telling the truth. However, I could've said Uncle Noel's bloody fail of a gingerbread house looks like poop instead. Forgive me."

A chuckle reverberates around the room. I take a sip of my eggnog while the banter continues. It's not spiked with spiced rum, as it's unhealthy to have any alcohol around a recovering addict, but I added nutmeg, cinnamon, and cloves to give it a hint of spice. It's an ode to Aaron and Mads.

Honestly, it feels like everything is an ode to my family. The gingerbread Daisy made reminds me of the gingerbread Mom used to make. The colour scheme of warm white lights reminds me of Jessa—hanging the lights was her favourite part. And the huge green bean casserole cooking in the oven reminds me of Dad. Christmas Dinner was never Christmas Dinner without a green bean casserole.

Cole's mom, Violet, makes a tsk noise as she hands Noel a damp cloth. He thanks her and begins scrubbing the dried icing from his forearms and hands. "The ears of the innocent, Cole. Your father and I never swore around you when you were a child."

Noel snorts. "While I believe that, Violet, I think something went wrong." He glances at Cole, then puts on his fake British accent. "He'd bloody ridiculous, if you ask me, mate."

Violet's green eyes focus on Noel, and when their gazes meet, you can feel the playful tension radiating through the air. "While your British accent is just as bad as your gingerbread house, Noel, I believe we dropped Cole a few times when he was a baby."

"That explains a lot," Noel says.

Cole snorts. "Pretty sure I'm the only one with a degree at the moment."

"And a wife you've knocked up again," Daisy mutters.

This time, Noel and I can't prevent ourselves from laughing.

Cole looks at Willow. "I can never win with these people." He holds his arms out. "Come on, kiddo. Let's get you cleaned up before dinner."

Willow reaches for Cole, and he picks her up, carrying her down the hallway to the bathroom. Their voices are muffled as they head down the hallway, making their words incoherent. Whatever they're discussing, though, I'm sure Cole is expressing his side of the story. Jokingly, of course.

"Those two," Daisy says, shaking her head. "They'll be the death of me."

Violet chuckles as she pours herself another cup of tea. After doing so, she walks past Daisy and squeezes her shoulder. "Silliness aside, my son loves you."

Daisy flashes her a beautiful smile. "I know."

With a genuine smile, Violet exits the kitchen and rejoins her husband, Daisy's parents, Jack, and my grandparents in the living room. For the past hour, they've been talking while enjoying glasses of eggnog and a fancy charcuterie board. All I've heard is laughter and an entanglement of their voices.

It's good to see my grandparents branching out and meeting new people. I'm not the only one who lost family members because of the accident. Seeing their progress makes me happy.

"Well," Daisy says. "You two should join the party. Gingerbread houses were Willow's idea, and I think it's best Cole and I tackle the kitchen with her."

Tossing the damp cloth to the table, Noel climbs to his feet. "Kinsley and I will manage the kitchen, Daisy. You and Cole should join in on the festivities. Your dad brought his guitar, and Willow loves hearing him play."

Daisy cocks an eyebrow. "Says the country singer she has a photo of in her bedroom."

Noel's cheeks turn pink. He looks away and clears his throat with a cough. "You and Cole put this together, Daisy. Take a break. Kinsley and I will clean up, then set the table for dinner. Plus, that photo is of me and Kinsley. She has a collection of family photos on her desk."

Daisy inspects the horrendous disaster. Icing sugar coast every surface. There are candies on the floor. The table is also covered in swaths of hardened royal icing.

This won't be an easy clean, but I know why Noel wants to spend time together. While tonight has been beautiful, it's the anniversary of the accident. The accident Noel's dad caused while under the influence. The same accident that killed my family and left me with a permanent limp.

Noel wants to talk to me, which is why I stand up and give Daisy a hug. "We've got this. Go spend some time with the family."

Family. It brings tears to my eyes. After all this time, it feels good to belong again. To have a family I love so much surrounding me again. They'll never replace Mom, Dad, Jessa, Mads, or Aaron, but they will bring me happiness. And that's enough for me.

Although she wants to argue, Daisy gives in. "Okay. But call me back in to help with dinner as soon as the kitchen is clean."

Pulling away, I nod. "Of course."

Daisy surveys the kitchen one more time before retiring to the living room. 

When we're alone at the kitchen table, Noel inspects my gingerbread house. I used large stick pretzels to make it look like a log cabin. Frosted Mini Wheats are glued to the roof with royal icing—proper royal icing. The peak of the roof is decorated with green and red candies that are acting as Christmas lights. It's simplistic, but cute.

"Fuck," Noel curses. He turns his gaze to the ceiling. "Why do I suck at gingerbread houses? It looks like an earthquake hit Candyland."

"I loved that game when I was a kid. We should play it later."

Noel snorts, pulling me into a warm embrace. "No way in hell. That game was horrible. I would always get the stupid candy hearts card when I was spaces away from winning."

I wrinkle my nose. "That was a nasty card."

Speckles of royal icing decorate his face, dotting the dark stubble along his jaw. Flecks are even present in his hair. I reach up and toy with a strand. "Maybe we should give you a bath before dinner. I thought you were an adult, Noel."

Noel shrugs. "I'm a child at heart. You can't make gingerbread houses without creating a disaster in the kitchen. It's just not logical."

I suppress a snort. He won't be saying that while we clean up. Royal icing is like cement when it dries, hence the reason it holds together gingerbread houses. Well... most gingerbread houses.

"Stop smiling like that. You're making fun of my gingerbread house."

Pressing a hand over my mouth, I attempt to smother my laugh. "I'm sorry. It's just..."

"Pathetic?" Noel suggests.

Nodding doesn't seem very nice. I feel like I should compliment something on his gingerbread house. Unfortunately, Cole's words were too accurate. His gingerbread house looks like shit—and that's me trying to be nice.

I release a resigned sigh. "It's pathetic."

The confirmation in my tone makes Noel chuckle. He slips an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close and kissing me on the temple. "Never afraid to speak your mind, eh? Never change, Kinsley."

While Noel holds me close, I can't help but marvel at how well we fit together. We're two pieces of a puzzle, meant to fuse. Our relationship is art built atop a stable foundation. Especially after everything that's happened.

Tilting my head up, I ask, "How are you holding up?"

He expels a deep breath.

"This is the first Christmas Eve I haven't spent locked in my bedroom since the accident. It's... strange. Bittersweet." His gaze connects with mine. "But the accident isn't haunting me like it used to. Being here with you and the family is... Fuck. I can't express my emotions. All I know, Kinsley, is that I'm thankful for everything that's happened since we met. Trauma is no longer holding me back."

"That's so good to hear," I smile. 

Unable to conceal his smile, Noel tips my chin up and presses a kiss to my lips. It's soft and quick, but it holds the promise of something more.

When he pulls away, he glances at the disaster-of-a-kitchen. "Should we clean up?

I nod.

*  *  *

Later, Noel and I are sitting beside the crackling fire. The soft rug beneath us doesn't make sitting on the floor more comfortable, but the warmth from the fire, blanket, and Noel's presence makes it tolerable. Everyone left about an hour ago, leaving Noel and I to recover from our generous helpings of Christmas Dinner. He's been strumming his guitar, wearing a Santa Hat, and jotting down notes for a new song. I've been scrolling through tonight's photos on my phone.

I can't remember the last time I documented Christmas. Usually, it's full of melancholy and trips to the cemetery to pay respects to my family. This year, however, I paid my respects by spending time with my newfound family and the man I'm in love with. Today, I lived my life how my family would want: happy.

Shutting my phone off, I roll onto my stomach and rest my chin on my fist, staring at Noel. He's hunched over, strumming the tune of a new song he's working on. The sight before me is a masterpiece.

His dirty-blonde hair is a tousled mess, shadowing the striking curves of his jaw and cheekbones. The first three buttons of his wine-red dress shirt are undone, showing off the smooth planes of his chest. His fingers toy with the strings, and the soft strumming echoes through the quiet living room. Light from the fire and the Christmas lights illuminate him in soft, buttery lighting.

"When do I get to hear this new song?" I ask.

Noel doesn't look up from his guitar. When he's in songwriting mode, he locks his conversation on his guitar and notebook. He does, however, smile.

"When I'm finished."

His response makes me chuckle, and I reach out to toy with the toe of his ugly Christmas socks. The pattern isn't ugly, just the condition of the socks. He's had them for years, and ever since I first saw them, I've been trying to get rid of them. There are several holes and the pattern is worn. One present under the tree for him is a new pair of Christmas socks. Maybe that'll persuade him to ditch the old socks.

"You should get rid of these."

Setting his guitar down, Noel crosses his arms and looks at me. A small crease is visible between his eyebrows. "They're vintage."

I flick his big toe. "I can tell."

Grinning, Noel leans over and pulls me into his arms. "You know what I think?"

My arms slide around his neck, and I pull him close. "What?"

He shoots me a smug grin. "That you're jealous of my vintage Christmas socks."

I snort. "Nah. I'm surprised those things haven't run away. One day, they'll end up in the garbage."

Noel's chuckle is hot against the shell of my ear. And when he gives my hips a squeeze, I have to suppress a pleasurable shudder. My arms tighten around his neck, pressing our bodies closer together.

He cocks an eyebrow. "Is this where the night's going?"

My finger traces the prominent line of his jaw. "Not sure what you're talking about."

As I'm tracing the bridge of his nose, Noel snatches my wrist in his soft grip. "Kinsley."

"Noel," I challenge.

He expels a deep breath, the dark-brown colour of his eyes representing melted chocolate. They're sultry and tempting. Hypnotizing. "You want to do this now?"

"Do you?" I ask.

Noel loosens a soft chuckle. "I'd fuck you wherever and whenever you want, Kinsley. That's what the vasectomy was for."

Despite the sexual tension radiating between us, I can't prevent myself from laughing. That wasn't the reason, but I do like Noel's teasing. He got a vasectomy so we wouldn't end up in the same situation as Daisy and Cole. Don't get me wrong. We're not judging them—there is nothing wrong with having an accidental pregnancy and wanting to keep the baby. Plus, Willow is a sweetheart, and I know she'll appreciate having a sibling.

Noel and I just aren't ready for a pregnancy. I have one more semester in university. Noel's career is taking off. For us, sex is intimate and recreational, far from producing a baby.

I tangle my fingers in his hair. "Then what are you waiting for?"

Grinning, Noel lays me down on the blanket in front of the crackling fire. My blood bubbles with excitement as he kneels over me, working on un-tucking my sweater from my jeans. While he's doing that, I unbuckle his belt, then unzip his dress pants. Beneath is the thin cotton fabric of his boxers. I run my hand over the front, earning an audible groan from Noel.

His voice is strained when he asks, "What else do you have in mind?"

"A little of this." I cup Noel's face, guiding his lips to mine.

"Hmm."

I arch my back, pressing my front against his arousal. "A little of that."

"I'm listening."

Pushing Noel away, I sit up and whip my shirt off over my head, flinging it across the room. I'm not concerned about being in the living room. My grandparents are staying in the basement suite, and it's well past midnight. Jack lives in a condo closer to the town centre where he attends his weekly support group.

No one but Noel and I are present in our house.

Our house.

Noel follows my actions, and we don't stop until we're both naked. He straddles my thighs, keeping most of his weight off of me. I can feel his firm length nestled against my thigh as he leans over and kisses me.

"Sometimes, Kins, you're a tease." His hand slides down my bare torso, stopping at the apex of my thighs. "But two can play at that game."

A small gasp escapes my lips as Noel's fingers make contact. I tangle my fingers in his hair, tugging as he teases me in small circles.

"Faster," I whimper.

Noel doesn't follow my request. He continues touching me at a moderate pace, building up the tension radiating through my body. "I thought you enjoyed teasing."

"Noel. Please."

Whether it's my pleading tone or my manners, I'm not sure, but Noel does exactly what I want, stealing my next breath before I can catch it. His fingers are relentless, causing my hips to arch and my body to squirm. All I want is for the tension building within me to snap. I want Noel's fingers to cause an overwhelming orgasm. To make me see stars.

My hips buck at their own volition, needing, wanting, and craving his touch. Needing, wanting, and craving my release.

"Noel," I moan.

His mouth captures mine as he slips two fingers inside me, still rubbing my clit with his thumb.

It pushes me over the edge.

My hands slide to his shoulders as my body arches. As I cry out his name and dig my nails into his shoulders, clinging onto him for life as a wave of pleasure short-circuits my mind. It's all-consuming, making me only vaguely aware of his lips trailing across my jawbone, brushing my lips.

He drags his thumb across my bottom lip. "Ready for the next part?"

Dazed, I nod, keeping my gaze locked with his warm dark-brown eyes.

"Merry Christmas, Kins," he smiles.

I run my hand down the side of his face, longing to share this intimate moment with him. "Merry Christmas, Noel."