Niall
SIX
I woke up first. Years of early practices and morning workouts had pretty much hardwired my body to wake up early with or without something to do. For a few seconds, I didn't remember where I was. Then I felt the weight draped across my chest.
Eli.
I couldn’t help the smile that curled my lips. He was sprawled half on top of me, one arm thrown over my stomach, his face buried against my shoulder. His hair stuck up in every direction imaginable. He looked ridiculous. And perfect.
Carefully, I brushed a hand through the mess of curls. Eli made a sleepy sound and burrowed even closer. My smile widened.
The rest of the house was quiet. Just the soft hum of the ceiling fan overhead. I lay there holding Eli, staring at the faint morning light creeping through the curtains.
It was Christmas morning, and the first in years I wasn’t spending it alone.
Eli shifted again, his nose brushing my collarbone. "Stop thinking."
"I wasn't aware you were awake."
"I'm not, but you’re thinking too loud.” Eli smiled without opening his eyes.
A laugh burst out of me.
"There it is."
"What?"
"The laugh. I like that one." He pulled me to him. “Merry Christmas, baby.”
“Merry Christmas, babe.”
Warmth spread through my chest, but I could kiss him, a loud knock rattled the bedroom door.
"Good morning, boys!"
I closed my eyes and Eli groaned. "Go away, Chey."
"No."
"We're sleeping."
"It's Christmas Day!" I could practically hear her grin through the door.
"Mom says stockings in fifteen minutes." A beat passed. Then: "And Niall, if Eli goes back to sleep you can have his presents."
“Will do.”
"Traitor," Eli mumbled.
Her laughter echoed down the hallway.
Christmas Day with the Fosters apparently came with a mandatory wake-up call. By the time Eli and I made it down the hallway, the house was awake. The smell of hot chocolate drifted from the kitchen. Christmas music played softly somewhere in the background.
Meryl stood near the tree, a mug in one hand and looking entirely too cheerful for the irrational hour of the morning.
Rick was already settled into his usual chair with his own drink.
Cheyenne sat cross-legged on the floor near the tree.
We exchanged Christmas greetings and for a while I basked in the spirit of the holiday.
The stockings hung above the mantel. Five of them. My eyes found mine immediately. Something settled in my chest. It wasn’t the sharp ache I'd felt last night. Something quieter. Something warmer.
Meryl must have noticed where I was looking because she smiled. "Go ahead."
I hesitated before taking it off the hook.
The stocking was heavier than I expected.
I sat down on the rug beside Eli and reached inside.
I pulled out an assortment of gifts. One of them was a hockey puck ornament with my name painted across the front.
My throat tightened. I turned it over in my hand.
Someone had taken the time to personalize it.
"You like it?" Meryl asked. She sounded hopeful. Like my answer actually mattered.
"It's great."
All the gifts were so thoughtful that my eyes burned with the threat of tears. A small box appeared in front of me.
Cheyenne handed it to me. "This one couldn’t fit in your stocking,” she said with a grin. “Hope you like it too."
I unwrapped it. Inside was a coffee mug. The front read: WORLD'S OKAYEST HOCKEY CAPTAIN
A laugh escaped me. “Thanks, Cheyenne. It’s perfect.”
She leaned over and wrapped me in a tight hug.
Eventually the stockings were emptied, gifts were exchanged and discarded tissue paper piled up on the floor.
Meryl disappeared into the kitchen long enough to refill everyone's chocolate and somewhere in the middle of all the noise and laughter, a realization settled quietly inside my chest. Nobody was treating me like a guest. They'd simply made room for me.
Cheyenne suddenly clapped her hands. "Family photo time."
Eli let out a long-suffering groan. "I knew this was coming."
"Of course you did." She disappeared down the hall and came back carrying a digital camera. "Mom insists we take pictures every Christmas."
"I do not insist," Meryl said with a smile.
Cheyenne raised an eyebrow. "You absolutely insist."
Meryl laughed. "... Maybe a little."
For the next fifteen minutes, pictures became part of the celebration. Some were posed in front of the tree. Others taken while people were laughing too hard to stand still. Rick somehow blinked in at least half of them.
Cheyenne declared those "artistic."
At one point, Meryl insisted on one with just Eli and me. "Stand closer," she said.
"We are close."
"You can do better."
Eli slipped an arm around my waist. "There. Happy?"
"Much."
The camera clicked once, twice, three times. I had a feeling those photos would end up framed somewhere in the house by the time our next visit rolled around. Once the camera was finally set aside, we settled back around the table with fresh mugs of hot chocolate.
I found myself watching Eli laugh at something Cheyenne had said. Three years ago, I couldn't have imagined this. Not Eli, not this family, not this future. Yet, here I was. Exactly where I wanted to be. Exactly where I was meant to be.
Eli glanced over. "What?"
I smiled. "Nothing."
His eyes narrowed.
"Liar."
I laughed. Maybe I was, because some things were simply too big to put into words. Instead, I reached for his hand beneath the table and held on tight. Surrounded by people who loved us, I knew one thing for certain. This wouldn't be my last Christmas with the Fosters. Not even close.