Chapter 44 #2
I shift a little to look at him. His hair’s a mess, his mouth slack with sleep, and somehow it still hits me like the first time I saw him smile.
I reach up and trace my thumb along the curve of his jaw, careful not to wake him, but his eyes blink open anyway—blue and soft and so full of trust it hurts to look straight at it.
“Morning,” he murmurs, voice low and rough.
“Morning, Princess.”
He groans at the nickname but doesn’t let go. If anything, he pulls me closer, burying his face against my neck. I laugh quietly, the sound muffled in his hair.
We stay like that, half-awake, our hearts finding the same rhythm. It’s ridiculous how easy it feels—how right. I’ve spent months trying not to want this, and now that I have it, I don’t know how I ever thought I could go without it.
He tilts his head just enough to meet my eyes again, smiling that small, sleepy smile that ruins me every time.
“Peppermint latte time?” he murmurs with a hopeful smile. “They are going to get rid of it soon, and I’ll have to wait another year for it to come back.”
“Is sugar all you think about?” I grumble, not wanting to get out of bed or let him go.
He purses his lips. “I think about hockey, too.” He lifts up enough to drop a kiss to my lips. “And you. I think about you a lot.”
I snort.
“And I think about the next time I can have you inside of me, filling my ass with your cum.”
Yeah, that does it. I’m hard as a fucking rock, ready for another round. It doesn’t matter that we woke up a few times during the night, and he’s probably sore from it. He presses against me, and I groan.
“Help me shower, Calder.” He kisses me again, and then he climbs out of the bed and walks naked to the bathroom, looking over his shoulder once he reaches the doorway. “Then we can get my sugar.”
By the time we make it out of the shower, the mirror in his dorm room bathroom is completely fogged. Eli’s laughing as he swipes a hand across the glass to see himself, water still dripping from his hair. The towel around his waist is barely hanging on.
I lean against the doorway, watching him move around the small space like he owns it. It shouldn’t hit me the way it does—how ordinary this all feels—but it does. The smell of soap, the steam curling into the air, the sound of him humming under his breath. It’s stupidly perfect.
He catches me staring in the mirror. “What?”
“Nothing,” I say, turning and grabbing my shirt from where it landed on his desk chair. “Just didn’t know mornings could be this good.”
He grins, tugging my hoodie over his head. It’s way too big on him, sleeves halfway down his hands. “You mean you didn’t know mornings could come with sex and charm?”
“Right,” I mutter, slipping on my joggers. “Charm.”
He pulls on his boxers and jeans. Followed by socks and shoes. I move slower as I get ready, watching him more than anything.
He laughs, grabs his beanie, and shoves it on his head. “Come on,” he says. “If I don’t get my peppermint latte before noon, I’m going to combust.”
“You say that like it’s my problem,” I mutter, grabbing my coat.
He just grins. “Everything about me is your problem, Calder. You made it that way.”
He’s not wrong.
Outside, the air’s cold enough to sting, and the walk across campus wakes me up faster than any coffee could.
Eli keeps brushing his shoulder against mine, talking about practice drills, about the new assistant trainer, about everything except what last night meant.
And maybe that’s fine. It’s enough just to be here.
The café is warm, windows fogged, the smell of espresso wrapping around us. He orders his latte with extra whipped cream; I go for straight black. We’re waiting when a voice behind us cuts through the chatter.
“Well, would you look at that? Our resident Grinch in the wild—and holding hands, no less.”
I don’t even turn. “Luke.”
“And me,” Daniel adds, sounding far too pleased with himself.
Eli lights up immediately. “You guys come for caffeine or for the free show?”
Luke smirks. “Why choose?”
Daniel leans his elbow on the counter, grin wicked. “We’ve been waiting for this moment since the calendar shoot, by the way. Finally! The slow burn pays off.”
Eli laughs into his cup. “Told you he’d come around eventually; no one can resist me.”
Luke stage-whispers, “Didn’t realize he’d come around quite so literally—”
“Luke,” I warn, my tone enough to make him snicker harder.
Daniel waggles his eyebrows. “Relax, Calder. We’re happy for you. You’ve officially entered your soft-boy era. Character development, baby.”
Eli’s laughing so hard he almost spills his drink. I take his cup before disaster strikes. “You two finished?” I ask.
Luke and Daniel share a look that means absolutely not. If I thought Eli was a menace, I’m pretty sure his friends are exactly the same.
“Enjoy your latte date,” Luke calls as Daniel tugs him toward the door. “Try not to melt the ice off your heart all at once, Grinch!”
Eli’s still grinning when they’re gone. “They like you.”
I stare down into my coffee. “You have a funny definition of ‘like.’”
“They didn’t bite,” he says, nudging me. “That’s affection. For them.”
I huff a laugh despite myself. “They’re menaces.”
“They’re my menaces,” he says proudly, taking his latte back.
“Lucky me.”
He bumps my shoulder, eyes bright over the rim of his cup. “Admit it—you love me and my chaos crew.”
I meet his gaze, the corners of my mouth twitching. “Maybe a little.”
He beams. “Knew it.”
And just like that, I’m smiling into my coffee, thinking that somehow, against all odds, this—him, the noise, the peppermint, the morning—is exactly what I didn’t know I wanted.
We leave the café hand in hand, steam curling from our cups as the cold air hits. The sidewalks glisten under a thin layer of frost, sunlight catching on every shimmer. Eli’s cheeks are pink from the wind, his grin too bright for this gray morning. He bumps my shoulder with his.
“You’re smiling,” he says, sing-song. “Careful, Calder. Someone might mistake you for happy.”
I give him a look over my coffee. “I’m surrounded by sugar and you. It’s hard not to get a little contact high.”
He laughs—the sound that’s been following me for months, the one that somehow feels like home now. “You love me.”
“I do,” I admit. “And I’m starting to think I might love Christmas this year, too.”
He gasps dramatically. “Did you just say that out loud? In public?”
I roll my eyes, tugging him closer by the hand he’s been swinging. “Don’t push your luck.”
He leans against me anyway, his head brushing my shoulder as we walk. “Too late. Luck pushed itself.”
The world feels softer around us. The hum of the campus fades beneath the crunch of our boots, the smell of peppermint and snow all around us.
I glance down at him. “You really think this is it? Your miracle ending?”
He tilts his head, that familiar spark in his eyes. “No,” he says. “This is the beginning. All Christmas movies just show the beginning of the love story.”
We reach the corner for our dorm, and he stops, tugging on my sleeve until I turn. He rises onto his toes and kisses me—sweet, sure, and unhurried, the kind of kiss that erases everything that came before it.
When we break apart, I’m grinning like an idiot. He looks way too proud of himself.
“See?” he says, eyes bright. “Told you you’d start believing in Christmas magic again.”
And I do. Somehow, impossibly, I do. Even though Christmas has come and gone and the New Year has arrived…
if it weren’t for him and his Christmas Cheer, I’d still be the Grinch everyone said I was—walls a mile high, and a chip on my shoulder for the world, but his warmth healed something inside of me.
I tuck him closer against my side, the both of us warm despite the cold, and we keep walking—coffee cups almost empty, hearts stupidly full, the world just beginning to sparkle again.
It’s simple. It’s perfect.
It’s us.