Chapter 24
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
COLE
It’s still dark when my eyes blink open. For a second, I forget where I am—then the faint smell of pine, the low glow of Christmas lights strung on a new “top of the line” fake Christmas tree, and the weight of Natalie’s body next to mine pulls me back. Natalie’s house. Christmas morning.
The air mattress beneath us lost half its air overnight, sagging just enough to press her a little closer against me.
Her head is in the crook of my arm. Her hand rests on my chest, warm and comforting.
I drift off again, enjoying her touch. I don’t care what she says about the weighted blanket being the best. This right here, with her, would beat it every time.
Suddenly, the weight slips and her touch fades away.
“Stay,” I mumble and catch her hand.
She laughs softly. “You were asleep. How did you even know I was leaving?”
“I can feel when you leave.”
“What do you mean?”
“I get cold.” I pull her back to me. “So stay. Please.”
Her hair shifts against my jaw as she laughs again. I like interacting with this version of her—the one who’s half amused, half caught off guard by me.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t. I have things I need to do.”
“Like what? It’s not even six. You need sleep.”
She wiggles in my hold, but I only tighten it. “What I need to do,” she says, “is make you a present, because I have nothing to give you and I feel terrible since you got me the best present ever.”
“That was your birthday present,” I mumble into her hair. “I didn’t get you much for Christmas.”
“But see, you got me something,” she says. “How am I going to look if I have nothing to give you in return?”
I can’t help but smile against the warmth of her temple.
God, she’s cute when she spirals. “Tell your parents your present doesn’t fit under a tree,” I whisper, inhaling the sweet smell of her hair as I nuzzle closer.
“Or maybe Christmas is a little bit more, or however that Grinch line goes. You can be my present.”
She snorts. “But you already have me. Remember? We’ve been dating for a while now.”
“I forgot about that. Wow, you’re right. You’re a terrible girlfriend for not buying me anything.”
She lets out a mock-offended gasp, wriggling harder like she might finally escape. “See!”
I laugh and catch her before she can roll away. “I’m kidding. We can just say I accidentally left your present at school, and we’ll exchange our own later. How does that sound?”
“Like you’re the best.”
“Great,” I murmur, kissing the top of her head. “Now go back to sleep because it’s—”
I reach for my phone, squinting against the harsh blue glow of the screen. The notification staring back at me isn’t the time; it’s a message from Coach. My stomach drops.
“Shit.”
“What’s up?” she asks.
“Our starting forward was an idiot and went skiing and broke his leg—so Coach wants everyone back to campus early because we’re going to need to rearrange the lines. He wants us back for a seven a.m. practice on the 27th.” I swallow. “Which means—”
“You have to leave tomorrow,” she says quietly.
“Yeah. I do.” I drop my head back on the pillow. The ceiling is still dark, but it feels lower now, like it’s closing in on me. “I have a full scholarship,” I say, half to her, half to myself. “This will all be worth it someday.”
There’s a beat of silence. She doesn’t say anything. I don’t, either. I’m trying to hold on to the warmth of her pressed against me now that I know I’m on borrowed time.
I hoped I’d have another week to show her how good we are together. I don’t. All I can do is hope that the few days we’ve had like this have been enough. When we’re back on campus, and the spirit of Christmas is gone, hopefully she’ll want to spend more time and continue…whatever this is.
What could be more romantic than January? With its dirty snow and grey skies. Who knows, maybe I’m wrong and it’ll be the perfect time to fall in love.