He hugs me, kisses the top of my head, and says, “I thought we could decorate it together.”
“Did you get ornaments too?”
He untangles himself from my arms, goes behind the tree, and sets shopping bags down next to the coffee table. “You have to open each one. They all kind of have meaning.”
“Really? What kind of meaning?”
“You’ll see. Open them.”
I sit on the couch next to him and open the first box. It’s a beautiful, brightly-colored blown-glass fish. “It’s so pretty!”
“What do you think it means? For us?”
I think about it. “Um, we ate fish in St. Croix.”
“True. Think some more. When did we see pretty fish?”
“When we went snorkeling!”
“And what happened when we went snorkeling?”
“Your back got sunburned?”
“And how did you try to help me with that?”
I laugh and grin. “So, you’re telling me that this fish reminds you of the shower?”
“Yep,” he says with a naughty little smirk. “That was fun.”
“I’m still kicking myself for giving you that washcloth to cover up with.” I lean over and give him a kiss. “I think you should put this one on the tree.”
I open another box and find a glass Ferris wheel. “Aiden, are all of these going to make me cry?”
He puts his ornament on the tree, then kisses me. “They’re supposed to make you happy.”
“I’m crying because I am happy. And because, seriously, this might be the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
He gives me another kiss. Like our first kiss on the Ferris wheel. Perfectly amazing.
I walk over and put the Ferris wheel high up on the tree, just like we were when he kissed me at the top of it. Then I excitedly open another one. This one is an adorable piece of chocolate cake. “The peace offering?”
He nods.
“That cake was really good. And I like peace with you better than fighting.”
He gives me a steamier kiss this time, but I push him away after a few minutes. “I have a lot more ornaments to see! You need to stop kissing me.”
Of course, what does he do?
Gives me about ten more kisses.
I open a Santa, a nutcracker, and a nativity scene, which he tells me are just because it’s Christmas and every tree needs them. Then I open a Santa taking a bubble bath, the bubbles a pearly pink glass.
“Hmm. Let me guess. Our bubble bath. The one where you wore your swimsuit?”
He laughs. “Maybe after this, we’ll take a bubble bath without swimsuits.”
“I’m done opening ornaments for tonight,” I tease, putting this one on the tree.
“You’re bad,” he says, swatting me on the butt.
Which was probably the wrong thing for him to do, because it inspires me to jump on him, knocking him flat on the couch, and attack his face with sloppy kisses.
“Oh, ick,” he laughs. “This is going to take all night at the rate you’re going. No bubbles until the tree is decorated.”
“Fine,” I pout.
“How does that song go? You better not cry, better not pout?”
“Speaking of that, we need Christmas music playing.”
He takes a sip of his wine and then says, “You’re right. And we should turn on the fireplace.”
I jump up and down a little. “Yes. You do the fire. I’ll turn on the music.”
“Much better,” he says, pulling me onto his lap when we’ve both made it a little more Christmas-y in here. “What do you want for Christmas?”
“You,” I reply.
He gets a little twinkle in his eye. “Are you offering sex to Santa?”
“I have been kinda naughty.”
“Well, maybe if you’re a good little girl, you’ll get what you want.”
“I lied. I’m always good.”
He shakes his head at me. “Santa doesn’t like it when people lie.”
“Oh,” I say, thinking about the boatload of lies I’ve told this year.
He hands me another box. “Open some more, then we’ll put them on the tree. Otherwise we’ll never get to that bath.”
I stay on his lap and open a Santa in a sleigh, a Santa in New York City—since that’s where we are now—and a Santa that’s surfing—since I taught Aiden how. The next one is Santa driving an ice-cream truck with a big cone on top of it. “When we went for ice-cream? I’m surprised that’s something you want to remember, seeing as you got all pissed off at me.”
“All I remember is the sexy way you were licking the cone. Got me all hot.”
Then I open one of an adorable pink purse with little peace signs and hearts on it.
“I fucking love you. That’s what you told me when I gave you the purple purse,” he says.
“I was excited.”
“I know you love me.”
“I know you love me.”
“Still not ready to confess your love?” he teases.
“Apparently, neither are you.”
Next, I open a trio of colorful cowboy boots.
“Those might be my favorite, Boots.”
“I love them. Although when you gave me that nickname, I thought it was kinda dumb.”
“Dumb? I’m shocked. It was very original.”
“It’s still the name of the monkey on Dora the Explorer. I didn’t want to be a monkey. But now I like it. I like that it has meaning to both of us.”
He grins and hands me another box.
I look at the name of it. “The Sugar Shack?”
“Just open it.”
In the box is an adorable little gingerbread house covered with candy. “Hansel and Gretel got eaten there.”
“That’s supposed to be our mansion of love. Don’t make fun of it,” he says seriously.
“Oh. Well, then it’s adorable.”
The next one is The Three Little Pigs. “You’re on a roll. First Hansel and Gretel and now pork for dinner.”
“You’re silly. You know what it means.”
I get serious again. “It’s for a strong foundation.”
“Very good.”
I grab another box and find a sand castle—my castle on the beach—a Little Mermaid, and a Frog Prince.
“Oh, the Frog Prince is so cute.”
“I remember Damian said you used to make him be a frog.”
I hug him. Again.
Next, I open a Nutcracker prince.
“That was always my sister’s favorite ballet. I thought maybe since you dance, you’d like it too.”
“I love it. This will be the first Christmas that I won’t get to see it.”
He gives me his nearly-blinding happy smile.
“What?”
He tilts his head in the most adorable, aw-shucks way and pulls two tickets out of his wallet. “I got us tickets for Sunday afternoon.”
Which makes me start crying.
He wraps his arms around me. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
“I haven’t bought any presents.”
“But we’re shopping tomorrow, all day.”
“I just feel bad that I haven’t gotten you anything yet. And you did all this. All the thought you put into it.”
“Boots, my mom and I went shopping when you weren’t dancing. I got a bunch of clothes for my birthday and when we were walking out, I saw the huge holiday section and decided to buy you some ornaments. Then my mom asked if you had a tree. So I bought one of the fake ones. It came with the lights on it. All I had to do was put three pieces together, plug it in, and put on the garland.”
“But these ornaments. They all have meaning.”
“They had a large selection. Seriously, I was like I want this one, and this one, and this one. Twenty minutes, tops.”
“It’s still amazing, Aiden.”
He kisses me then murmurs, “I’m glad you like it. That’s all I want. To make you happy. Come on, open the rest. And don’t feel guilty. This is our tree. The story of us. And I have an ulterior motive. I want to be so far in your life that, come August, you’ll never consider anyone but me.”
It’s much safer to open another ornament than to discuss that, mostly because I don’t even know if I’ll still be alive in August.
“Awwww! Look at this snowman! His little stick arms are full of shopping bags! That’s adorable!”
“I like shopping with you. So, are you going to wear the gorgeous dress I found last time we went shopping to Winter Formal?”
“Yeah, I am. And I found the perfect shoes to go with it.”
“I can’t wait to see you in it.”
I can’t wait for you to get me out of it, I think.
The next boxes I open are a cupcake with a clover on top, a mermaid Santa, and a seashell. “So the cupcake is just for the clover?”
“Uh huh.”
“And the mermaid—well, I guess technically he’s a merman—and seashells. Do those have to do with our wishes?” I touch the shell bracelet still tightly fastened to his wrist. “Are you ever going to tell me what you wished for?”
“Not until it comes true.”
“Hmm. Okay. What’s next?”
He hands me another box, this one containing a cotton candy machine. “Is this for the same reason as the Ferris wheel? Except we didn’t eat cotton candy together.”
“No, I dragged you away from Riley when he was licking cotton candy off your hand. So, no. It’s because your hair always smells like cotton candy.” He leans in and kisses my temple. “You always smell good enough to eat.”
I close my eyes tightly, willing away the heat I can instantly feel rising between my legs. I purse my lips and smile at him.
“You have a dirty mind. I like it,” he whispers in my ear in the low, husky voice that makes me melt.
“Well, maybe, a little.”
I open another ornament, this one a chapel. I think about how I spilled my guts to him. How he stopped during the game and asked me if I was okay. How sad it was when I planned on leaving him. I feel choked up again.
He says, “It reminds me of the chapel at school. Of our spot. Where I promised not to pretend punch your head.”
“It reminds me of how nice you could be even when I hated you.”
“You never hated me.”
“No, but I thought you hated me, so I told myself I hated you.”
“We had a rocky start, huh?”
“Yeah, we did. Damn Logan.”
“Would it have changed things?”
“Yeah, we’d probably have dated and then broken up by now. So everything was probably for the best.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah. I’ve changed a lot since we first met.”
“You’re stronger.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah, you’ve been through a lot. Coming to Eastbrooke at the last minute. The stuff that went on with your friend. Your boyfriend leaving you for a year. All the stuff with Dawson. With Whitney. With Chelsea. With me. You’re good at hiding it, though. I think Riley and I are the only ones you let in. Besides Damian.”
“Yeah. So, next bag. This is the last one.”
“And these are some of my favorites.”
The first one I open is a red bag with two baguettes sticking out of the top. “What’s this one for?”
“French class. Tutoring with food. Our tutoring field trip. The dances in my room when we should have been studying. French body parts.”
“I love it.” I open the next one. A Santa dressed in pink with the cancer symbol. “For your mom?”
“Yeah. It made her really happy when I won Mr. Eastbrooke. And that’s all because of you. I’ve grown this year too. At least, that’s what my mom tells me.”
“Well, we know you’ve gotten taller. That’s why you had to shop.”
“I don’t mean that kind of growth. I mean not sleeping around. Waiting for the right girl. Knowing you’re worth every ounce of frustration. Knowing that—well, open another one.”
“Um, okay.” This one is a street sign that says Sunset Blvd. “Dual meaning? Our sunsets and the fact that California is where we’re both from?”
“That you watch sunsets with me. That I even had the guts to tell you why they were special. I’ve never shared those parts of me with anyone. No one at school even knows my mom had cancer.”
“I’m glad you shared those things with me. And we saw the green flash together.”
“Close your eyes,” he says. “I want you to see these together.” I close my eyes and listen to him unwrap ornaments. “Okay, open.”
Lying on the table in front of me is a soccer ball, a four-leaf clover, an Eiffel Tower, and two dolphins jumping out of the water. I don’t want to be a big baby and start crying again, so I joke, “Hmm. I’m not sure what any of those mean.”
He kisses me deeply then says, “Fine. I’ll tell you. These are all about luck and fate. It was fate you kicked the soccer ball at my head and made me instantly fall for you. It’s fate that I’ll ask you to marry me someday. But it was luck that I found a four-leaf clover to give you, and every time we’ve given each other a clover, it’s helped us both be lucky. And it was luck that we got to see the dolphins. You’ve made me lucky.”
“You helped me make dance team. Gave me the glass clover before my speech. And drew one on my leg for the play. You’ve been sharing the luck.”