Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
I sink deeper into the bath, the heat of the water lapping at my skin, trying to soothe the tension that lingers in my bones. My muscles ache from the exhaustion of everything that’s happened recently, but it’s not just physical. The emotional turmoil Jason dragged into my life refuses to let me fully relax. It’s like a persistent shadow clinging to me, despite the fact that I’ve been wrapped in the safety of these men who’ve become my protectors, my lovers...and maybe something more.
I stare at the ceiling, the sound of water gently splashing adds to the soothing Christmas music Key set to play before he left. The chaos of last night still feels surreal. I thought coming here with Jason would be a fresh start, that we could somehow fix the broken pieces between us, but it’s clear now how naive I was. He didn’t come here to heal us. He came to break me completely.
And it almost worked.
I swallow the lump in my throat, staring at the steam rising from the water. It’s not just Jason’s betrayal that hurts, it’s the fact that for so long, I let him have that power over me. I was always the one bending, compromising, hoping he’d finally notice the cracks in our relationship. But he never did, and I spent too long waiting for him to care. Now? It’s like I’m finally seeing him for the weak, controlling person he really is, and that’s terrifying and liberating all at once.
I only need to see the mess of the mirror to remind myself just how far he’s pushed me from who I was before him. I am going to spend a shit ton in cleaning and repair fees on this rental. And that’s not even to mention the part that my best friend played in this entire thing. But I can’t even begin to wrap my head around that right now.
There’s a knock at the bathroom door, pulling me from my thoughts. Before I can respond, the door cracks open and Atlas’s towering frame fills the doorway. His stern expression softens when our eyes meet, but there’s still a command there. Something primal and protective creeps into his gaze as his eyes rake over my naked body.
“You’ve been in here long enough,” he says gently, though his tone leaves no room for argument.
I sit up in the tub, the sight of him standing there with a towel draped over one massive arm making my heart stutter. He strides forward, kneeling beside the tub, and I can feel the weight of his concern.
“I’m fine , Atlas.” I mutter, if a bit petulantly. I’m not used to being the one who’s cared for, I’m usually doing all the caring. It’s weird.
“Your ankle isn’t fine,” he counters, reaching down to trace a calloused thumb over my leg. “And I’m not letting you overdo it. You need rest.”
“Alright, fine,” I relent, holding my arms out to him. “But don’t get any ideas about carrying me everywhere, I can walk.”
He smirks, effortlessly pulling me from the water like I weigh nothing. “We’ll see about that.”
As soon as I’m wrapped in the towel, he lifts me into his arms, and there’s something so comforting about it. For so long, I thought I had to be strong on my own, but now, I’m starting to realize it’s okay to lean on someone else. Maybe even three someones.
Atlas carries me out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, gently setting me on the bed as he picks a soft, fuzzy set of shorts and crop top pajamas from the closet. They’re a deep, velvety blue with sparkly snowflakes patterned over them. It even has a matching fuzzy robe, that I may or may not rub my face into a few times before I’m once more swept into Atlas’ massive hold.
I don’t even bother arguing about it this time. I kinda want to stay here. I also don’t plan on telling him that the throbbing in my ankle is completely gone and that it’s perfectly fine now.
I’m totally ending up on Santa’s naughty list this year.
As we enter the kitchen, Atlas places me on the island countertop and I see Key and Teddy bustling around the space cooking breakfast.
My heart swells, a mixture of gratitude and something deeper curling in my chest. I’ve only known these men for a short time, but they’ve already done more to make me feel cared for and safe than Jason ever did in all our years together. That realization hits me like a tidal wave.
I’m falling for them. Hard.
The thought terrifies and excites me in equal measure. This isn’t just about sex or the thrill of being caught up in the chaos. It’s more than that. It’s the way they look at me, the way they protect me, even when I don’t think I need it. It’s the way they make me laugh, feel seen, feel cared for. Like they’re not just here for the fun of it; they’re here for me.
“Earth to Sugar!” Key waves a hand in front of my face, cutting off my inner monologue with a grin. His other hand is balancing a plate piled high with breakfast foods.
“Time to eat up,” Key grins, setting the plate on my lap. “We’ve got to get down to business.” He’s already rolling up his sleeves, cracking his knuckles like he’s about to embark on some epic battle.
I raise an eyebrow from my perch at the kitchen island, watching as he dramatically pulls out a mixing bowl and slams it onto the counter. "And what business would that be, exactly?" I ask, trying to suppress the grin tugging at the corners of my lips. Key’s always got something up his sleeve, but today, his energy feels particularly chaotic.
“Christmas cookie domination, of course,” he says, throwing me a wink as he grabs a handful of flour. “We’re having a bake-off, and I’m taking home the gold. Or should I say...the Sugar?”
He waggles his eyebrows at me dramatically and a snort escapes me before I can stop it. I quickly hide my face behind my hands. "A cookie bake-off? Really?"
“You heard me,” he says with mock seriousness, wagging a finger at me. “You’re looking at the reigning cookie champion. I make the best damn gingerbread men this side of the North Pole. You’re going down, Grace.”
“Oh, this is going to be good.” Teddy saunters over, looking like he’s just stepped off the cover of some winter magazine, his dirty-blonde hair perfectly tousled despite the ridiculousness of the situation. “Key, you realize the only thing you won last time was the award for Most Likely to Cause Food Poisoning , right?”
Atlas chuckles from where he’s leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed and a smirk playing on his lips. “And I seem to recall your reindeer having six legs last year.”
Key places a hand over his heart, looking deeply offended. “Those were avant-garde reindeer. They were ahead of their time.”
“They were so ahead of their time, they skipped Christmas entirely, and went straight to Halloween,” Atlas quips, stepping further into the kitchen.
I can’t help but laugh as Key starts pulling out an array of cookie cutters, clearly preparing for war. “You guys have no idea what’s about to hit you,” he mutters under his breath, throwing ingredients onto the counter. “I’m about to sleigh this competition.”
“Oh, for the love of Frosty,” I groan, shaking my head at his pun. “Please tell me we’re not doing Christmas puns the whole time.”
Key narrows his eyes at me, flour dusting his fingertips like he’s about to throw a snowball. “Sugar, I dare you to try and stop me. This is my time to shine, and I’ll be making puns until the cows come home for Christmas.”
Teddy rolls his eyes as he grabs his own bowl from the cabinet, sliding it onto the counter next to mine. “Alright, alright. If we’re doing this, let’s at least make it interesting.” His blue eyes meet mine, twinkling with mischief. “How about a little wager?”
Atlas raises an eyebrow, clearly interested but waiting for the details. “What kind of wager?”
“Well, winner gets…a little taste of Sugar,” Key purrs, leaning in close to me.
I bite my lip, almost losing my grip on the plate of food on my lap. “Deal.”
The kitchen quickly devolves into a flurry of activity. Atlas stands at the stove, whipping up a batch of dough with the precision of someone who’s used to following exact instructions. Key, meanwhile, is all over the place with flour on his nose, cinnamon on his shirt, and a mixing bowl that looks like it’s seen better days. Teddy, of course, is calm and collected, his hands moving with ease as he mixes his ingredients like a seasoned pro.
I’ve polished off my food like a soldier and am in the middle of rolling out my dough when Key sidles up beside me, peering over my shoulder. “Whatcha got there, Sugar? A little too traditional, don’t you think?” He gestures to my neatly lined-up cookie cutters–stockings, candy canes, and Christmas trees.
I narrow my eyes at him. “What’s wrong with traditional? These are classics.”
“Classics are overrated.” Key wiggles his fingers in front of me like a magician preparing for a trick. “Watch and learn, rookie.”
Before I can protest, he whips his tray into mine, knocking my own cookies out of the way completely. I blink, trying to process what I’m seeing.
“Is that...a warrior gingerbread man?”
Key beams, clearly proud of himself and the bulging arm muscles on his cookies. “Oh yeah. This little guy’s ready for battle. And wait until you see what I’ve got in store for the frosting.”
Atlas snorts from across the room. “Let me guess–you’re going to make an army of gingerbread mercenaries?”
“Exactly,” Key says, not missing a beat. “And they’ll be unstoppable. You might as well give up now.”
I roll my eyes but can’t help the smile creeping onto my face as I quickly change plans for my own cookies. “Well, I hope they can handle mine then. They’re going to be… packing …quite the punch.”
Teddy glances over, raising an eyebrow. “What, are you giving them little boxing gloves?”
I shrug. “I’m not telling.”
Key gasps dramatically, clutching his chest. “ Et tu , Sugar? You’re turning on me already?”
“Oh please, don’t act like you didn’t see this coming,” I say, nudging him with my elbow.
The playful banter continues as we work, the kitchen slowly transforming into a winter wonderland of flour, sugar, and frosting. As I kneel down to check the first batch of cookies in the oven, the smell of sugar and melted butter fills the air, making the entire cabin feel even cozier. I do my best to hide my own creations from view, made easier by the fact that the guys seem so caught up in their own projects, they don’t bother peeking at mine.
Atlas, who’s been dead silent, finally speaks up. “So...what are we judging these cookies on? Taste? Creativity? Or who can make the most outrageous puns?”
Key’s eyes light up. “Oh, puns are definitely part of the judging criteria. I mean, what’s Christmas without a few jolly good groaners?”
I groan, tossing a bit of flour in Key’s direction. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”
“Insufferably charming,” he shoots back, dodging the flour with a wink.
As the cookies begin to pile up on the counter, I step back to admire the sheer chaos we’ve created. There are snowflakes, Christmas trees, reindeer, and–thanks to Key–an entire army of gingerbread warriors. Add my secret batch into the mix, and…it’s a bit eclectic, to say the least.
“Alright,” I say, wiping my hands on a dish towel. “Now comes the hard part…Decorating.”
Key cracks his knuckles. “Prepare yourself, Grace. You’ve never seen frosting artistry like this.”
I watch as he grabs a piping bag, filled with vibrant green frosting, and begins working on one of his gingerbread men. With swift, precise movements, he adds a little face, a candy cane sword, and even a tiny helmet made out of a gumdrop.
“You’re seriously going all out, huh?” I ask, unable to hide my amusement.
“Oh, this is just the beginning,” he says with a wicked grin. “These gingerbread warriors are going to be legendary.”
The next hour is a blur of frosting, sprinkles, and more Christmas puns than I thought possible.
Atlas, ever the stoic one, quietly works on his own cookies, which are surprisingly neat and symmetrical, considering his usual brute force approach to things.
Key, true to form, begins decorating his warrior gingerbread men with an absurd level of detail. I watch in amusement as he painstakingly adds candy cane swords to each one, his tongue sticking out in concentration.
“They’re ready for the front lines,” he says proudly, holding up one of his creations.
I squint at the cookie, biting my lip to keep from laughing. “Key...that gingerbread man has a six-pack.”
“And?”
“And...I’m pretty sure gingerbread men don’t have abs.”
He grins, unfazed. “Mine do. These are special forces gingerbread men. Only the best.”
Teddy lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he adds the finishing touches to his own cookies–elegant snowflakes with intricate icing patterns. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously talented,” Key corrects, flashing a grin.
By the time we’re finished, the kitchen looks like it’s been hit by a Christmas tornado. Flour dusts every surface, bowls are piled high with frosting in various colors and sprinkles scattered across the floor like confetti. Yet, it’s perfect. There’s something so warm, so festive about the chaos we’ve created, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I am completely at ease.
“We really outdid ourselves,” I add with a grin, looking at the piles of cookies. They’re a mishmash of holiday shapes and gingerbread men: Key’s warrior army, Teddy’s elegant snowflakes, Atlas’s sturdy, straightforward reindeer, and my own batch of absurdly decorated surprise additions.
I have to hold in a laugh every time I think about how they haven’t noticed yet.
Key tosses his piping bag onto the counter, leaning back with a satisfied smirk. “Damn right we did. If these cookies were a Christmas carol, they’d be Jingle Bell Rock . A total banger.”
Teddy snorts, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “More like Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer .”
“Oh, ha-ha,” Key retorts, rolling his eyes. “We’ll see who’s laughing when the judges declare me the cookie king.”
“Wait,” I interject, “who are the judges?”
Key pauses, his expression faltering. “Uh...I figured we’d judge ourselves.”
“Oh, so this is just a popularity contest, then?” Atlas rumbles from his spot at the counter, where he’s meticulously rearranging his reindeer cookies. “You’ve already lost, Key.”
“Excuse me,” Key says, feigning offense as he places a hand over his heart. “I have the charm and the cookie creativity. If anyone’s going to win this bake-off, it’s me.”
I shake my head, unable to stop the giggles that bubble up as the boys continue bickering. Then I point to the final tray of cookies that still needs frosting. “How about we split this last batch and see who can make the best Christmas pun while we finish decorating?”
Key’s eyes light up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Now that I can get behind. You’re going down, Sugar. I’ve been training for this my whole life.”
Atlas groans. “Great. Now it’s just going to be a pun war.”
Teddy leans in, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t know, Atlas. You’ve been pretty silent on the pun front. Got any up your sleeve?”
Atlas lifts one eyebrow, considering. “I’ve got one. But I’ll wait until it’s absolutely necessary.”
“Oh, a strategic pun sniper,” I tease, nudging him with my elbow. “I like it.”
We gather around the counter, each taking a turn to grab one of the last freshly baked cookies to decorate. The piping bags are filled, the sprinkles are ready, and the battle for pun supremacy begins.
Key, of course, is the first to break the silence. “I’ve got a question for you, Sugar,” he says, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “What did the gingerbread man put on his bed?”
I narrow my eyes, already bracing for the punchline. “What?”
“A cookie sheet.” He grins triumphantly, holding up the– ghost? –gingerbread man like it’s the crown jewel of his work.
I groan, but I can’t stop the laughter that escapes me. “That’s terrible.”
“It’s pun-derful, and you know it.”
Atlas rolls his eyes but reaches for his own cookie–a reindeer with a simple swirl of frosting for antlers. He’s quiet for a moment, carefully piping on the nose, before he leans over and says, “Why don’t you ever see Santa in the hospital?”
I blink at him. “I don’t know. Why?”
“Because he has private elf care !” He doesn’t crack a smile, but the corner of his mouth twitches as he deadpans the punchline.
Key lets out a bark of laughter, and even Teddy smirks. “Alright, that was pretty good,” Teddy concedes.
I laugh, pointing at Atlas. “You’ve been holding out on us. That was solid.”
“I don’t use them unless they’re necessary,” he says with a wink.
Next, Teddy finishes off his decorating, his movements calm and precise. He adds a few sprinkles for effect before clearing his throat. “What’s every elf’s favorite type of music?”
We all stare at him, waiting for the inevitable pun.
“ Wrap music,” he says with a completely straight face, displaying an elf shaped cookie that…indeed looks like an absurd Christmas themed rapper.
“Oh my God.” I bury my face in my hands, shaking my head. “That was so obvious.”
Key clutches his stomach, howling with laughter. “Teddy! That was frosting good!”
I can’t stop giggling as I finish decorating mine with a final touch of black. “Alright, my turn,” I say, trying to think of the cheesiest joke I can come up with. “Why did the gingerbread man go to school?”
Atlas raises an eyebrow, already bracing himself.
“To become a smart cookie,” I say, waggling my eyebrows dramatically as I hold up my masterpiece. Suppressing a grin, I parade my nerdy gingerbread man, topped off with block glasses and a pocket protector like a prize cow.
Key lets out a groan, but he’s grinning. “Okay, that was pretty decent. You’re getting into the spirit of things, Sugar.”
As we finish decorating the last batch of cookies, Key steps back, surveying his gingerbread army with a satisfied grin. “I think we can all agree that I’m the undisputed champion here.”
Teddy shakes his head, washing his hands in the sink. “You wish.”
Atlas leans against the counter, arms crossed, his smirk growing wider by the second. “We still have to taste them before you can claim victory.”
Key’s eyes widen in mock horror. “Taste? But these are works of art! You can’t just-”
I grab one of his warrior gingerbread men, biting off its head with a satisfying crunch. “Tastes like victory to me,” I say through a mouthful of cookie.
Key gasps dramatically, clutching his chest. “Sugar, how could you?! He was my best warrior!”
I laugh, holding up the half-eaten cookie. “It’s delicious. You win best gingerbread man.”
Key grins, clearly pleased with himself, but before he can gloat too much, I reach for another cookie–one of Atlas’s perfectly designed reindeer–and take a bite. “And Atlas wins for best reindeer.”
Atlas shrugs, but there’s a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “I’ll take it.”
“And…” I snatch one of Teddy’s, taking a generous bite of his too, “Teddy wins best snowflake.” He flashes me a dark grin that has my pulse racing and heat pooling low, making my thighs press together on instinct.
Key’s eyes narrow as he scans the counter, the grin faltering just a little. “Wait a minute…” His gaze flicks between my innocent smile and the small tray of cookies I’ve strategically hidden behind a dish towel. “What’s going on here, Sugar? Where’s your batch?”
Teddy’s head swivels in my direction, a look of curiosity blooming on his face. “Yeah, Little One. We’ve seen our masterpieces…but where’s yours?”
Atlas, ever the observant one, leans back against the counter, crossing his arms. His voice rumbles, smooth and teasing. “She’s hiding something.”
I try to keep my expression neutral, but the corners of my mouth betray me as they twitch upward. “I’m not hiding anything.”
Teddy, ever the curious one, makes a move towards the tray, his hand hovering above the dish towel. Key’s eyes widen in realization, and his grin returns full force. “Sugar. What did you do?”
Unable to keep the secret any longer, I burst out laughing and wave my hand toward the tray. “Go ahead. Take a look.”
Teddy grabs the towel and whips it off with a flourish, revealing my creation in all its glory.
There’s a moment of stunned silence as the guys stare at the tray.
Key’s jaw drops. “Oh...my...God.”
Atlas lets out a deep, rumbling laugh, his eyes gleaming with amusement.
Teddy blinks, his eyes darting from one ridiculous cookie to the next. “Are those...?”
“Yup,” I say proudly, crossing my arms. “Christmas cocks.”
It’s an entire batch of intricately decorated Christmas-themed cocks–each cookie is more absurd than the last. One is wearing a Santa hat, another is decked out in sparkly green frosting shaped like Christmas lights, and yet another is frosted to look like it’s wrapped in a bow, ready to be unwrapped.
Key doubles over, laughing so hard he can barely breathe. “I was not ready for that!”
Teddy’s laughter bubbles up, more subdued but no less entertained. “Little One, this is...this is something else.”
Atlas steps forward, picking up one of the cookies–one frosted with little reindeer antlers at the tip. He turns it over in his hands, clearly impressed. “This one’s got...detail.”
I smirk, wiggling my eyebrows. “I aim to please.”
Key is still wheezing with laughter, clutching his stomach. “You’ve got one with a bow...like a gift...oh my God.”
I grin, pointing to that one. “Well, ‘tis the season for giving.”
Atlas shakes his head, his eyes twinkling as he carefully sets the cookie back down. “You’re full of surprises, baby.”
Key, finally pulling himself together, leans against the counter, wiping his eyes. “Okay, I take it back. Sugar wins. Hands down.”
“Thank you, thank you,” I say with a little bow.
Atlas chuckles, shaking his head in mock defeat. “I’m not sure how anything can top that.”
Teddy’s still shaking his head, staring at the cookies like he’s trying to process the sheer absurdity of them.
“I can’t believe I got out-gunned by Christmas-themed dicks. You even gave them…veins and shit. This one’s bigger than my actual dick!” Key grabs a cookie––a particularly ridiculous one that’s been frosted with glittery garland trailing around the shaft–holding it up with a dramatic flourish. “It’s going straight on the Christmas tree. It deserves to be a decoration.”
I giggle, shaking my head. “It’s edible, Key, not an ornament.”
“Oh, it’s going up there,” he says with a wink. “Best Christmas ever.”