Chapter 36 Charlie #3
Dad looks impressed. "You've been paying attention to more than just my daughter, I see."
"I try, sir."
Bash's turn comes next, and I find myself suddenly nervous. My gift feels too personal, too revealing of how I really feel about him.
From my parents, he receives a first-edition book on the history of snowboarding—a rare find that makes his eyes widen in surprise. "This is incredible," he says, carefully turning the pages. "I've been looking for this for years."
Emily gives him a hand-knitted beanie in deep blue "to match your eyes" and a gift card to his favorite coffee shop back home—information she clearly wheedled out of me at some point.
Then it's my turn to hand him my gifts. The wrapped painting feels suddenly inadequate as I pass it to him. "It's not much," I murmur.
He unwraps it carefully, and when the watercolor comes into view, his breath catches.
I watch his face as he takes in the painting of himself mid-air, body perfectly positioned, snowboard gleaming against the pristine snow below.
The mountains in the background are rendered in soft blues and purples, the sky a brilliant clear azure.
"This is my sister's work," he says quietly, his finger tracing the edge of the frame. "From her 'Glory Days' series."
I nod. "I found it at a café in town. The owner told me Sarah had painted a whole series of you before..." I trail off, not wanting to mention his career-ending injury.
"Before my knee," he finishes, meeting my eyes. There's something raw and vulnerable in his gaze. "Charlie, this is—I don't have words."
"Do you like it?" I ask uncertainly.
He laughs, but it sounds choked. "Like it? This was the jump that won me my first championship. Sarah captured it from a photo our dad took." He looks at me with such intensity that I feel it like a physical touch. "This is the most meaningful gift anyone has ever given me."
Heat floods my cheeks. "I just wanted you to have something that reminded you of who you are. Who you've always been."
Bash's hand finds mine, squeezing tightly. "Thank you," he whispers, and I hear everything he's not saying aloud in front of my family.
I hand Bash the small envelope that's been burning a hole in my pocket all evening. "There's one more," I say softly.
He opens it curiously, unfolding the certificate inside. His eyes widen as he reads, then snap up to meet mine with such boyish excitement I can't help but laugh.
"Another heli-skiing trip?" He holds the paper like it's made of gold. "In January?"
"I figured we could go somewhere different this time. Maybe Alaska?" I tuck my hair behind my ear.
"Are you kidding? This is incredible." He pulls me closer, his voice dropping to a murmur only I can hear. "Though I should warn you, another bet is definitely on the horizon for this trip."
Heat spreads through my chest at the memory of our last "prize" exchange. "Is that so?"
"Absolutely." His fingers trace small circles on my wrist. "But this time, I might just let you win."
I laugh, leaning into him. "Bold of you to assume you have a choice in the matter."
Mom clears her throat, reminding us that we're not alone. But I don't pull away from Bash, not even when Emily makes exaggerated gagging sounds.
For the first time in years, I'm not pretending to be happy during the holidays. I simply am.
And then finally, it's my turn. Emily bounces with anticipation as I open her gift first—a gorgeous leather messenger bag for work that I've been coveting for months, along with a framed candid photo of Bash and me from earlier in the trip, laughing in the snow.
"So you don't forget how this all started," she says with a wink.
From my parents, I receive a delicate gold necklace with a small emerald pendant—"To match your eyes," Mom says—and a weekend trip to a writers' retreat in the Berkshires. "For that novel you keep saying you'll write someday," Dad adds.
When I reach for Bash's gift, a small rectangular box wrapped in silver paper, my heart speeds up. Even though I know it's not a ring—we've only been truly together for days, after all—there's something intimate about this exchange.
I unwrap it carefully to find a velvet jewelry box. Inside, nestled on black satin, is a delicate silver bracelet. But it's not just any bracelet—it's made of interlocking snowflakes, each one unique and detailed. In the center of the bracelet is a small charm that looks like a tiny lift ticket.
"Turn it over," Bash says softly.
I flip the charm to find an engraving: Shortcake - First of many adventures. —B
"It's beautiful," I whisper, blinking back unexpected tears.
Bash takes the bracelet and fastens it around my wrist. "I had it made after our heli-skiing trip," he explains. "I wanted something to remind you of our first real day together—not the night we met, but the day we started to become... us." He whispers.
The bracelet catches the firelight, sending tiny prisms dancing across my skin. I look up to find my family watching us with varying degrees of emotion—Mom dabbing at her eyes, Dad pretending not to notice, and Emily practically vibrating with delight.
"I think that officially concludes our pre-Christmas Christmas," Dad announces, breaking the moment before it becomes too intense. "Who wants eggnog?"
As my parents and Emily head to the kitchen, Bash pulls me close on our shared chair.
"Did I do okay?" he murmurs against my hair. "With the gifts, I mean. I've never done the whole family Christmas thing before."
I turn to face him, taking in the vulnerability beneath his usual confidence. "You did more than okay. You were perfect." I touch the bracelet on my wrist. "And this... I'll never take it off."
His smile is slow and sweet. "That's the idea, Shortcake." He brushes his lips against mine. "I want to be part of all your adventures."
"Is that a promise?" I ask, only half-joking.
His blue eyes hold mine steadily. "Count on it."