Chapter 8 #2
“Certo, non vedo l'ora di vedere come va a finire questo. ” She snickers, but before I can ask what the hell she is talking about, she extends a gift to me and smiles. “Here, open mine first.”
“I haven’t been able to get your laptop yet either, piccola,” I admit, feeling a pang of guilt.
I should have gotten it earlier, directly after I got the paycheck, but I thought there was still time, and I had other things on my mind. Because of my selfishness, Chiara is left without a Christmas present for the first time ever. My stomach sinks, and I can’t help but feel awful.
“Don’t worry about it. Maybe we can get a used one for me when you’re feeling better,” she remarks, casting a hopeful glance at Xander, who nods approvingly.
She looks visibly proud at his agreement, standing a little taller.
I frown at her. Who is this girl? “No, I saved up for it. I’ll buy you the one you wanted tomorrow, okay?”
“Grazie tantissimo,” she gushes, nearly leaping to wrap her arms around my neck in a tight hug.
“Hey, take it easy,” Xander cautions, and she releases me with an apologetic grin.
“Sorry,” she says sheepishly. “Now, open it.”
I unwrap the package to find a mason jar filled with what looks like pink salt. Glancing up at her, I comment, “This is so pretty.”
Her smile broadens. “It’s a body scrub. Monica and I made it ourselves. It’s a mix of sugar, coconut oil, and peach scent.”
I open the jar, and the sweet aroma wafts up. “This is amazing. Grazie, piccola.”
Clay takes the jar from me, giving it a sniff. “It does smell pretty good,” he remarks.
Handing it back to me, I then offer it to Joshua for a sniff, and he smiles appreciatively. “This is really cool, Chiara.”
Xander then takes the jar and inhales, passing it to Sophia.
“Oh, I made one for you too, Sophia. And I have enough for the rest of you if you’d like some,” Chiara offers.
I bite my lip, trying to stifle a laugh at the mental image of Xander pampering himself with pink peach sugar scrub.
However, the side of his mouth lifts in a half smile, catching me by surprise. “Can’t wait to try it.”
My heart swells with gratitude. Their kindness toward Chiara isn’t something I take for granted, and I adore them for it.
“My turn,” Sophia announces, handing me a pink-wrapped package.
Here we go.
Fuck, I haven’t got anything for her either, and she’s the one letting me stay in her guest room.
Not to mention my little sister, who comes along with my baggage, seems to be making herself right at home in her house.
“Maybe someone else would like to open their gift?” I suggest, but she shakes her head, excitement evident in her eyes.
“I can’t wait.” I give her a mock-exasperated look but unwrap the gift. Inside is a mug, similar to the countless ones she owns, with the words, You’re my best-tea.
I smile at her, then chuckle. “I love it. Thank you.”
“I knew you would.” She beams.
“Can someone else open one, please?” I ask, feeling a bit overwhelmed with all the attention. I would love to be invisible for just a little while.
Sophia seems to take pity on me when she hands a gift to Clay, and he unwraps it to reveal another mug bearing the words, Could be tea, could be vodka.
He laughs, leaning in to show me. “Our kind of mug, kitten,” he whispers in my ear, his warm breath sending shivers down my skin. While he’s thanking Sophia, my mind can’t help but wander back to that night at the bar and the drunken promises we made.
The day after, the hangover cuddles here on this couch and the way he looked at me. I turn to glance up at him, and he’s already gazing at me with his chocolate-brown eyes. I hold my breath, and a smile forms slowly on his lips as his gaze locks on mine, making my chest tingle.
“Thank you, they’re amazing,” I hear Xander say, breaking the spell of the moment. I turn to look and see that he got a set of high-quality pencils from Sophia.
Joshua squeezes my knee, and my gaze flicks to him. I look at him questioningly, but he only manages a forced smile.
Fuck, did he notice?
The gift giving continues, and Joshua receives swimming goggles from Sophia. In return, the guys all gift Sophia a luxurious spa treatment, which makes her squeal with excitement.
I feel increasingly out of place as they hand each other their gifts, and I glance at Chiara. This is what Christmas looks like when you have money, a beautifully decorated home, a festive tree, delicious food, and many nice gifts.
We have never experienced this, not even when our parents were alive. But Chiara doesn’t seem fazed. She laughs and smiles with them, genuinely pleased when she receives a nice makeup set from Sophia and the accompanying brushes from the guys, reminding me of another Christmas from our childhood.
“Carolina, Chiara, come help me set the table!” Mama calls out from the kitchen, where she’s been busy preparing a feast for us all day.
We rush to her side, eager to lend a hand. Mama hands me the plates, and I carefully place them on the table. Chiara arranges the silverware with all the precision a six-year-old can muster. The room is filled with the soft sounds of Italian Christmas songs playing.
My parents always keep our traditions alive, even though I have never been anywhere but New York.
“Mia topolina, mia piccola, state facendo un lavoro meraviglioso, ” Mama praises us, ruffling my hair and kissing Chiara’s cheek.
Finally, the table is set, and Mama places a big panettone cake in the center. It’s a special treat only for Christmas Eve, and its sweet, citrusy aroma fills the air.
Papa joins us at the table, and we all gather around. He raises a glass of red wine and proposes a toast. “A Natale, tutto e possibile. ”
We begin our meal, savoring each bite of Mama’s homemade lasagna and crispy fried calamari. Chiara’s eyes light up as she takes her first bite. “It’s so good, Mama!”
Mama smiles, and there is a glint of pride in her eyes. “It’s all made with love, mia piccola.”
After dinner, we move to the living room, where the soft glow of the candles on the Advent wreath dances on the walls.
Its evergreen branches give off a festive scent that fills the room with a warm and comforting aroma.
Papa hands us both a present wrapped in red Christmas wrapping.
“Seems like Babbo Natale, …” he says with a twinkle in his eye, “… was already here.”
I’m twelve and know Santa isn’t real, but I play along for Chiara’s sake. “Grazie,” I say to Papa, offering a grateful smile as I sit next to Mama with the gift in my lap.
When I tear open the wrapping, my heart skips a beat. Inside, I find a set of paintbrushes, good ones like Mama uses. I’ve longed for brushes like this, and I can’t believe my eyes. I glance over at Chiara, who is eagerly unwrapping her own set of brushes.
“So we can paint our masterpieces all together,” Mama whispers, pulling me into a side hug.
Xander gently squeezes my feet, pulling me from the past and prompting me to look up at him. He tilts his chin in my direction, silently asking if I’m okay. I simply shrug, my gaze returning to the mason jar and mug in my lap.
Joshua seems to have noticed me zoning out, too, only he’s not willing to let it go. He lifts my chin with his finger, searching my eyes brimming with tears.
“What’s wrong, my Carolina?” he whispers, stroking away a tear that escaped from the corner of my eyes.
“Just missing my parents,” I whisper, and his gaze fills with compassion.
Pursing his lips, he pulls me closer, kissing my temple and stroking my back.
“Me too,” Chiara says, settling in front of me on the floor.
“Here,” Sophia says, pushing a mug of tea into my hand before she gives an identical one to Chiara.
The mug is printed with a green face that looks like a reindeer with antlers, eyes, and a round red nose. Underneath the face, it says Brew-Dolph. I can’t help but laugh. “Your miracle cure for everything, huh?”
“It made you laugh.” Sophia shrugs, but her eyes have a proud sheen to them.
It’s just the right temperature to drink, so I sip it.
The tea is a comforting blend of cinnamon and apple, and the warm liquid soothes a bit of the hole that had opened up in my chest. After I take a few sips, I set the mug down on the coffee table next to the presents I received from Chiara and Sophia.
“Here, open mine,” Clay murmurs, handing me a gift and giving Xander a similar-shaped one.
I cast him a curious glance before unwrapping it. Inside is a stunning black sketchbook with my name engraved in gold. I glance at Xander, who holds an almost identical sketchbook, except his name is shimmering in silver.
“Wow, those are so pretty,” Chiara observes, leaning in to have a better look before she goes back to inspecting her new makeup.
“Xander’s was full, and I noticed you didn’t have one. Every good artist needs a sketchbook.” Clay grins at me.
“Thank you,” I whisper, leaning in to kiss his cheek, which is conveniently close.
“You’re welcome,” he murmurs. He stands and walks over to Xander, cradling his face and kissing him deeply.
The longing I feel when I see them like this is nothing new, but it’s starting to bother me more and more. I lean my head on Joshua, my perfect boyfriend, I remind myself, and he pulls me even closer, kissing my nose.
“I can’t wait to see what you’re going to draw in there.” His voice is soft next to my ear.
I smile up at him. “Maybe you, if you’re up for posing for me for a few hours.”
“Can I be naked for that?” he asks suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows like an idiot, making me laugh.
“Ew, this is not Titanic, Casanova.” Chiara grimaces before she stands and goes over to sit next to Sophia, who is covering her mouth to hide a laugh.
I shoot her a mock glare.
Xander whispers something into Clay’s ear, catching my attention because it’s loud enough for me to hear. “I’ll give you your gift and a ‘white Christmas’ later.”
Fuck, that’s hot.
A shiver runs down my spine, and my toes curl involuntarily. Xander turns to me with a knowing smirk. “Your gift is the winter jacket hanging on the wardrobe. And you’re getting another tattoo.”
“What?” I ask, taken aback.
“I didn’t have any wrapping paper.” He shrugs. “And I am so done seeing you freeze to death, so don’t even start. You’re gonna wear it.”
My eyes widen at his tone. Why is him bossing me around such a turn-on?
“Thanks? But a tattoo… that’s a lot.”
“Decide what you want, and I’ll ink it for you. Merry Christmas.”
Joshua snorts in amusement. “That’s his go-to gift for all of us ever since he started tattooing. But honestly, it’s only a good gift now that he’s stopped drawing shaky lines.”
Xander flips Joshua off, eliciting a chuckle from him. As he laughs, the rush of air he exhales causes a few loose strands of my hair to flutter.
Clay gets another gift from the pile and sits close to me again, placing it in my lap.
“Another one?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at him. “Clay, I can’t—”
“I didn’t have anything for your birthday,” he interrupts me with a shrug.
With a swirl of emotions, I trace the creases in the wrapping with my finger. I can’t help but tease him, raising an eyebrow in amusement.
“Wow, I think a ten-year-old could do that better,” Sophia mocks him, leaning back on the couch with her mug of tea.
“Hey, it’s much easier wrapping sketchbooks than plushies,” he defends.
“You got me a plushie?” I ask, tearing open the paper to reveal one of those irresistibly cute, round, squishy pillows—a black cat with golden eyes. My eyes water, and I clutch it tightly. “This is so dumb, I hate it.” My voice quivers with unshed tears.
Clay grins, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “Her name is Karen.”
“I hate you,” I whisper in a soft trembling voice. But it’s a lie. I don’t hate him. In fact, I feel anything but hate, and a pang of guilt hits me.
“I hate you more,” he murmurs into my ear, sealing his words with a gentle kiss on my cheek.