17. Holiday Campaign #2
He lowers his hand slowly. “Hostile work environment.”
Cami laughs, but it fades as she starts picking at the hem of her sweater. “Clay offered to come.”
Griffin’s attention shifts completely to her. “For Christmas?”
She shakes her head. “Sorry, no. When I talk to my parents.” Her gaze moves around the room, touching each of us before returning to Griffin. “About you. And maybe… some of the rest.”
The room quiets enough I can hear the faint electrical hum of all the Christmas lights.
“You don’t have to do that before Christmas,” Griffin says, his voice softer now.
“I know.”
“And you don’t have to do all of it at once.”
“I know that too.”
Her fingers twist tighter into the fabric of her sweater until Griffin reaches down and covers them with his.
“I think I want to,” she says.
Before any of us can respond, Ronan’s phone rings.
He glances at the screen, and something in his expression closes.
Probably not enough that anyone who didn’t know him would catch it. I do.
“My mom,” he says before walking toward the kitchen to answer.
The rest of us pretend not to listen.
We’re terrible at it.
“Yes, of course I know Christmas is next week,” he says.
Dex picks up a box of ornaments and becomes deeply interested in rearranging them. Cami sits on the couch with Griffin beside her, playing with Christmas lights. I keep my attention on the garland still tangled around my hands.
Ronan goes quiet for several seconds.
Then his voice changes. “Is Ben going to be there?”
The room feels quieter, even though none of us change where we are or what we’re doing.
But that’s the strange thing about living with people long enough.
You learn how loud the quiet can be.
I can barely see Ronan through the kitchen entryway. He has his back to us, one hand holding his phone, the other pressed flat against the kitchen counter.
“No,” he says after a moment. “Mom, I’m not asking you not to invite him.”
His shoulders rise with one slow, controlled breath.
“I’m telling you that if he’s there, Cami and I won’t be.”
Cami drops her gaze to her lap, and Griffin’s jaw tightens beside her.
My feet move before I make a conscious decision to follow them.
I don’t go all the way into the kitchen. I just close some of the distance between us until I’m near enough that Ronan doesn’t have to turn around to know I’m there.
He does anyway.
His eyes find mine while his mother talks on the other end of the phone.
“I know,” he says, his voice softer. “I know it’s Christmas.”
His gaze stays on mine.
Another silence.
“I love you too. That isn’t the issue.”
Something twists hard beneath my ribs.
Because that’s always the fucking problem, isn’t it?
Love doesn’t make logistics disappear. Sometimes it makes them worse. It gives everyone more reasons to want you somewhere and more ways for it to hurt when you can’t be.
The call lasts another minute before Ronan finally says goodbye and sets his phone facedown on the counter.
Nobody approaches him.
He keeps staring at the phone.
Finally, I move the last couple of feet into the kitchen and stop beside him, close enough that I can feel the heat off of him.
“You okay?” I ask.
“I’m fine,” he answers immediately.
I don’t move.
After a few seconds, his mouth tightens. “I’m irritated.”
“That’s closer.”
A quiet huff leaves him—almost a laugh—and some of the tension in my chest loosens with it.
Then Ronan lifts his hand.
For a second, I think he’s racing for his phone again, but his palm settles against my back instead.
Warmth spreads through my shirt beneath his hand.
There’s nothing sexual about it. Nothing unusual enough that I should be so fucking aware of the weight of his palm or the slow movement of his fingers between my shoulder blades.
My body goes still anyway—not tense, just aware.
“Thank you,” He says quietly.
I turn my head enough to look at him. His face is so close to mine. I can feel his breath on my lips.
“For what?” I manage to ask.
“Not asking too many questions.”
My mouth curves into a small smile. “I can if you want.”
“I don’t.” His mouth twitches.
The hand on my back doesn’t leave.
His fingers travel upward instead, catching lightly at the hair at the nape of my neck before sliding through it once.
My breath stalls somewhere in my chest.
It’s barely anything.
Ronan has touched me before in passing. This shouldn’t feel that different.
But it does.
This is just Ronan standing beside me in the kitchen with his fingers in my hair because apparently that’s where he wants them.
Then his hand falls away—I miss it immediately.
I turn to talk to him, but his phone buzzes against the counter, saving me from having to say anything for now.
Ronan glances at the screen and frowns. “Fuck, it’s Margot now.”
“Is everything okay?” Cami asks from the living room.
He reads the message, and some of the tension leaves his face and shoulders.
“Yeah. Actually,” he finally answers.
Ronan turns his phone toward me, and I realize that Dex and Cami are there, too, reading over my shoulder.
Margot
Mom called me
For the record you’re not wrong
You aren’t making anyone choose
Ben did that when he put his hands on her
We’ll figure something out, don’t let her guilt you into changing the boundary just because there are Christmas lights involved
Dex lets out a breath. “I like your sister.”
“So do I,” Ronan says.
Cami wipes quickly beneath one of her eyes and sniffles.
Griffin slides his hand onto her hip. “Hey.”
“I’m fine.”
My eyes meet Ronan’s.
His eyebrow lifts slightly.
Cami takes a deep breath, unlocks her phone again, and looks around at all of us. “So… Christmas.”
“Jesus Christ,” Dex mutters with a laugh.
“No, seriously.” She looks at each of us. “What if Christmas morning is ours?”
We all seem to exhale simultaneously.
Griffin tilts his head. “Ours?”
“The five of us.” Her confidence slips a little as she looks between us. “We’re all going different places. Micah has his family. Griffin has his. I have conversations I need to have. Ronan has… all of that. Dex—”
“I have no obligations,” Dex interrupts. “I’d like to say I’m incredibly unpopular, but really everyone knows they can’t rely on me to be anywhere.”
I elbow him in the side.
“Ow.”
Cami mostly ignores us. “But what if Christmas morning belongs here?”
Swallowing, she looks at us all again. “Nobody schedules over it. Nobody leaves until after breakfast. Griffing gets home, we do coffee, food, and presents… whatever. Just us.”
I swallow around the sudden lump in my throat.
One morning.
Protected.
Not borrowed from somebody else’s tradition or squeezed into whatever space is left between everyone else’s expectations.
Something that is just ours.
“I want that,” I tell her.
Dex turns his head toward me, and something in his expression softens.
“Yeah,” he says, quieter than before. “Me too.”
Griffin nods. “I’m in.”
“Yes, me too,” Ronan says without hesitation.
Cami smiles.
Not the careful one she uses when she’s trying to figure out whether she’s asking for too much.
It’a full face grin.
Christmas lights reflect in her eyes, and for one second she looks like she might actually glow.
Okay.” She starts typing into her phone. “Christmas morning is ours.”
Dex immediately leans over her shoulder. “Did you really put it in the calendar?”
“Yes.”
“Can I see?”
“No.”
He snatches her phone anyway.
“Dex!”