1. Niall
ONE
NIALL
An hour after landing at LAX, Eli steered our rental car into the driveway of his childhood home.
Christmas lights wrapped tall palm trees that lined the way, the soft glow casting long shadows across the pavement.
It was weird seeing Christmas lights without snow, like someone had dragged the holiday into a tropical parallel universe.
Eli threw the car in park and glanced at me with a half smile. “You’re doing that jaw thing again.”
“I’m not doing a jaw thing,” I muttered, immediately unclenching my jaw.
His smile widened. “You’ll be fine. They already adore you.”
I dried my sweaty palms on my jeans before reaching into the back seat for the bottle of wine we'd picked up on the way. My overnight bag sat beside it. “FaceTime isn't real life,” I said. “This is... their house. Their turf.”
He reached over, fingers brushing mine. “And you’re in it with me. You got this.”
Before I could reply, the front door flew open and Meryl Foster burst onto the porch in a reindeer-print apron, arms wide open in invitation. “Oh my God, finally! Come here, both of you!”
Eli laughed as he got out of the car. “Hi, Mom.”
I grabbed my overnight bag from the back seat and slung it over my shoulder, taking the bottle of wine in hand. While I followed Eli to the door, I tried to keep my heartbeat below full-panic drumline levels.
Meryl wrapped her son in a hug first, holding him for a couple of seconds before leaning back to cup his face. “You're too skinny.”
“Good to see you too.”
She smiled and patted his cheek softly, then turned to me. “There he is.”
Before I could even think about offering my hand, she hauled me into a hug. “You're taller than the screen makes you look.”
A breathless laugh burst out of me. “Uh... thanks?”
She stepped back, smiling up at me. “Welcome home, Niall.”
The words caught me off guard but before I could respond, , she noticed the bottle in my hand. “Oh, let me take that for you.” She accepted it with a grateful smile. “You didn't have to bring anything, but thank you. This looks lovely.”
A familiar voice called out from behind her. “Is the boyfriend here?” Cheyenne rounded the corner, barefoot and holding a half-eaten candy cane. “Oh, yeah. Yep. Even cuter in person.”
“Please don’t,” Eli groaned.
I tried to hide my smile as Meryl ushered us inside. The warmth hit me immediately—both the temperature and the cozy, lived-in energy of it. Cinnamon drifted up around me, tinted with the hint of pine and nearly overwhelmed by something roasting in the oven.
Eli's dad appeared from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. “Niall,” he said with an easy smile. “Glad you finally made it. Welcome to the madness.”
“Thanks, Mr. Foster.”
“Rick.” He stepped forward to shake my hand. Then, after a second's thought, he used that hand to pull me into an embrace instead. “It's good to finally meet you.”
And just like that, the knot in my stomach loosened. Not completely, but enough that I could finally breathe. Maybe meeting Eli's family wasn't something I had to survive. Maybe it was something I was allowed to enjoy.