A Kiss For The Holidays (Home for the Holidays)
1. Asher
Chapter 1
Asher
12 years later
“ A sher Napoleon Ryan! Where the fuck are you? It's time to go.” I roll my eyes as a deep voice calls out and my bedroom door flies open. My eyes tip up from the book on my lap and crash into the baby blues of my best friend as he stands smiling at the threshold of my room in our house share.
“Not my name, Dalt, and why are you shouting?” Closing the book, I have just enough time to move it before he flies onto the bed and crushes me into the mattress. He hugs me and I slap his back, trying to catch my breath while the big lump just laughs.
“Can't…breathe,” I mumble before he rolls off me and kisses my forehead.
“Missed you,” he says, and I stand from my bed and stretch, the thin fabric of my cardigan riding up as I do. I shiver as cold air hits the sliver of naked skin.
“Why, where'd you go?”
My super clingy best friend kicks off his shoes and rests his head on my pillow. “Indoor cricket with the guys. I came to invite you, but you were out.”
“I had a meet up with my study group. You were gone for maybe three hours, not enough time to miss me.”
“It's plenty of time. Now hurry up and get ready, we need to leave.” Dalton closes his eyes and covers them with his arm .
I open my mouth in mock horror - knowing he can’t see me - then look down at what I have on. A red polo shirt and blue jeans. I think I look perfectly fine for a house party, but my best friend apparently doesn’t agree. “I am ready.”
Dalton moves his arm and turns onto his side, eyes scrutinising me. My cheeks start to heat at his careful assessment of my body and I clear my throat, turn around and head into the small bathroom attached to the room I rent in this five bed house. Dalton and I share it with three other guys from our university. One is studying to be an arborist, like me - we also take the same extra credit course in nephology together - and the other two are his friends. We all have very different schedules so don't run into each other all that often and, because his dad signed the lease for us, Dalton let me pick the only en suite.
“It’s a Christmas party, Ash, you’re meant to look festive,” he calls out and I take in my outfit in the bathroom mirror. I sort my hair and brush my teeth, before returning to the room. Sure enough, now that he’s unzipped his coat, I see that Dalton is wearing a Christmas jumper and a belt made of tinsel through the waistband of his jeans.
“I’m wearing red, and I have Christmas socks and underwear on.” I didn’t mean for that last bit to come out, and the blush I had managed to fight off earlier starts inching up my neck. The heat rises to my cheeks and ears as Dalton smirks then climbs off the bed and removes the tinsel from his belt loops. “Plan on showing someone those undies tonight?”
“No!” I huff out and Dalton chuckles, throwing the tinsel at me.
“Didn’t think so. Now wrap this around you and let’s go.” I do as he says, hanging the gold tinsel loosely over my shoulders and neck like an oversized necklace and then frown at the decoration before pulling my coat over the top. Dalton comes up behind me, wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me into a backwards hug. His scent, like Christmas and a tropical beach rolled into one, invades my senses and my heart trips over itself - the same way it always does every time he touches me.
“You look great, Ash. Very festive.” He squeezes me tightly, presses his lips to the top of my head and then releases me. I take a second to breathe and will the part of my body which gets over-excited at Dalton's close proximity to calm the fuck down before following behind him.
It took less than a week into our friendship for Dalton’s affectionate side to show. At the time, it was mostly him wrapping his arm over my shoulder or pulling me around by the hand. But as we’ve grown, his affection has started to show in other ways. He hugs me, kisses my head, rubs my back and sits with half his body draped over mine despite being so much larger than me, always finding some or other way to touch me. All in a purely platonic, best friend kind of way.
I like it, obviously I do; I know he does it because he loves me. The problem is that while I love him in return in the same way, I am also hopelessly in love with him.
People are spilling out of the party house and onto the lawn, despite the freezing December temperature but with the booze flowing and the music beating loud enough to feel in your bones, no one seems to mind the cold. Most are wearing hats or some other Christmas accessory on their heads and I spot a few people wearing elf shoes too.
We cross the grass, Dalton waving to some people he knows and I shiver as we climb the steps to the open front door. Dalton pulls me closer, wrapping his big arm around me. I burrow into him, loving the feel of his strength and the warmth radiating from his body, before straightening up and pushing him away, pretending to grumble at his overbearing nature.
Vale Lodge is a hamlet about two hours outside of London. It's small, but has its own university, which means that most of the population of the town are students and, by the looks of it, a large percentage of them are at this house party. Who organised it, I have no idea and truth be told, I didn’t really want to be here, but Dalt wanted to come, so I tagged along - like usual. I’m designated driver tonight - again, like usual - and I’m hoping that it won’t be a late one because we have to leave our dorms at five tomorrow morning to drive up to London to meet our families for the annual McKenzie-Ryan holiday getaway.
When I was nine and the McKenzies moved in, our mums hit it off immediately just like I thought they would, and our sisters were later born only two months apart. Since then, our families have gone on holiday together every year. This year’s holiday is a skiing trip to Austria. Dalton practically exploded with excitement when they told us. He’s a proper extreme sports junkie which I am very much not. This year he’s majoring in Adventure Sports and Coaching. It’s the second time he’s changed his course, but this major does seem to be the one that’s sticking. Dalton has always been undecided about what he wants from his career; he’s not flaky per se nor is he unreliable but sometimes, he has a hard time committing to things. I’ve known what I wanted to do since I was seven, so this is another way we are complete opposites.
“This is quite a turnout, who knew Perry knew so many people.” I survey the groups of people again wondering who Perry is, when I feel Dalton’s hand on my wrist.
“Come on, Ash, let’s grab a drink and find the guys,” he suggests, pulling me further into the house. We reach the kitchen where the music is softer, but the crowd is no less dense. Dalton uses his size to muscle his way to the counter where an array of soft drinks, beers, ciders and much harder bottles of liquor are standing. He grabs us each a beer and pours them into two plastic glasses. I stay glued to his side, not wanting to lose him in the crowd or get swept away into the sea of heaving bodies attempting to bump and grind to the awful music.
“Kenzie!” A booming voice calls out and I turn in time to see Rossi, the goalie on the university football team and one of Dalton’s friends, pushing through the crowd. Coming to stand next to us, he slaps Dalton on the shoulder then reaches for the cup of beer that was meant to be mine, chugging it down in one gulp and then slamming the cup down with a chuckle. “Fucking hell Kenz, have you seen the tits on some of these girls?” He elbows Dalton, whose eyes turn to catch mine briefly before focusing back on Rossi, who still hasn’t acknowledged my presence. He rubs his hands together like he’s warming them up. “I think I’m getting lucky tonight! I can feel it in my bone.” He drops his hands then rubs one down his crotch and laughs at his attempt at a joke before throwing his arm over Dalton’s shoulder.
“Nice, Rossi, very classy,” Dalton says but doesn’t shrug him off and I’m left standing feeling wholly insignificant while they chat and laugh together. I didn’t want to be here, why the fuck had I let him talk me into coming? The short answer is the same as always - because I do everything Dalton suggests, a sucker trying to soak up any time I can with him. “Where’s everyone else?” Dalton asks while pouring three new drinks.
“Ivy, Kiki and Roamy are in the basement, I think Connell and Riley are down there too.” Rossi lists off the people who make up Dalton’s group of friends. I’m an outlier in the group - here because Dalton wants me here and he gets a little pouty when I try to get out of joining him - but far from accepted as ‘one of the gang.’ I do have a few of my own friends - mostly people from my classes - but mostly, I’m wherever he is. My best friend is popular, people adore him. And why wouldn't they? He’s friendly, considerate, always the first one to offer help and if you looked up sunshine in the dictionary, I am sure it would be his name you’d find.
Dalton offers Rossi a drink and he takes it, dropping his arm from Dalton’s neck then tips his head, gesturing towards the door leading to another part of the house. “Come, let's see what’s happening down there.” He starts heading off, drink in hand, and Dalton turns to follow but not before I feel his pinky reach for mine, connecting us the way he’s been doing for twelve years whenever one of us feels anxious or overwhelmed or when we just need a reminder. A reminder that we always have each other’s backs no matter what, a reminder of our friendship that we forged in that park all those years ago. My heart warms and butterflies scatter around my stomach at the solid feel of his finger entwined with mine.