28. Bryce
TWENTY-EIGHT
brYCE
The week before Christmas, I step into the lobby of the Bigby, my backpack and bag slung over my shoulders, and practically float up the landing. I don’t make it past the mailboxes before I hear her.
“Fuck you! Fuck your fucking face! Fuck you!”
Camilla.
“Sorry, we’ve had the South Park movie on repeat and, well …” Horton leans down, and the bird hops onto his arm. “She really loves the songs.”
I laugh because, somehow, being assaulted by a twelve-inch bird seems like a fitting welcome home in the city.
“Anyway, welcome home.” Horton bats his eyes, his lips pulled into a barely there smile, and he backs into his apartment. I turn back toward the stairs but pause as he calls out, “Emerson is a great guy. I’m glad he’s staying.”
Emerson mentioned his Scrabble games with Horton, and my heart swelled knowing both of them had made a new friend. “Me too. Bye, Camilla!”
“Fuck you! ”
I step into the apartment, and the familiarity of home wraps around me.
I haven’t been here in three months, and damn if warmth doesn’t take over my body now that I’m back.
The thrill of choreographing, dancing, and pushing myself beyond what I believed I was capable of—it was all amazing.
I’ve grown so much, both in my work and in confidence.
LA was a whirlwind, and I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything, but I’m elated to be back to what matters most.
The place looks different. Familiar, yes, but different.
It’s clear that Emerson has settled in—his things are scattered about.
His jacket hangs over the back of the couch, a few of his books are piled next to the chair, and his bag sits by the door.
He’s made himself at home. My heart kicks up a notch.
There’s a small note propped up on the mantel. I freeze for a second. He’s not here. Why is there a note? My heart trips over itself in my chest. We talked this morning. He was fine. Excited to see me. Wasn’t he? All his stuff is here. I take a deep breath, step forward, and pick up the note.
Hey babe,
Took Bobo to grab dinner. Should be back in a few minutes.
Can’t wait to kiss your face.
Love you,
Em
Of course he’s not gone. I chuckle softly, shaking my head. I can’t even explain how much I’ve missed him. How glad I am to be home. Home. With Emerson.
I smile at the thought. Something inside that’s been off for the last three months settles. I’m right where I’ m supposed to be.
The door opens, and in they come. Emerson’s arms are full of takeout bags, and his face lights up when he sees me.
Before I know it, Bobo is bounding toward me, his tail spinning like a helicopter blade.
I crouch down, laughing as I give him a good rub behind the ears, and he plasters my face with his giant tongue.
“You’re home,” Emerson says, his voice soft and full of relief.
“Yeah,” I reply, standing and reaching for him. We meet halfway, his arms wrapping around me, and for a moment, it’s just the three of us, tangled up in each other in the most perfect huddle. “The pack’s back together.”
“I missed you so much,” he murmurs.
“I missed you too.” My voice comes out rougher than I expected, and I pull him closer, burying my face in his neck. He’s mine. I’m his.
We share a long kiss, slow and full of everything I’ve been feeling these past few months—longing, love, and the hope that everything will keep getting better, that we’ll keep growing together.
“I’m so horny for you.” It shoots out of my mouth without thinking. “I know I shouldn’t say that, but I can’t help it. I’ve jerked off for three months thinking about you, and well, there you have it.”
Emerson pulls back, a mischievous grin on his face.
“All in good time. I promise. We have … well, forever.” He spins me around, holding me from behind.
“Look. We have a tree. I didn’t know if you’d want one, but it’s all set up.
And, uh …” He moves over to the tree, reaches into the corner, and it comes to life. “I saved the fairy lights.”
“From the roof.”
I’m by the window, beside the tree, arms open, ready for him. “It’s beautiful. Perfect.”
And then, as if on cue, snow starts to fall outside the window, tiny flakes drifting down in the glow of the streetlights. It’s peaceful, serene, like something out of a dream.
“It’s snowing,” Emerson says softly, taking my hand. Bobo lies at my feet as if to anchor me in place. “And now we get to spend Christmas together.”
Christmas. Crap. “Listen, about that, I, well, I didn’t really have time …”
“You’re my present.” Emerson leans over and gives me the sweetest forehead kiss. “And there’s an entire week until Christmas. We can shop together.”
I nod as tears well up at the corners of my eyes. For the first time in a long while, everything feels right.
“I’m so glad you’re home,” Emerson whispers, and I pull back to look at him, my heart swelling with a love I’ve never known.
“Me too,” I reply. “Me too.”
With the tree sparkling, the snow falling softly, and Emerson beside me, I realize this is where I belong. In the city. With my man and my dog. I’m finally home.