I WANT Shawn’s family to adopt me every Christmas.
They’re loud and they’re funny and there’s so much love in their house.
The kitchen isn’t a big space—it can barely hold all eight adults—but it’s brimming with joy and cheer.
Wine glasses get passed around. There’s laughter and stories from holidays past. Kids dart between people’s legs, and I think I spot a cat, too.
Shawn keeps me close to him, his arm around my shoulder and his side pressed against mine. He’s my buoy. When the conversation turns a little too personal, a little too inquisitive about our relationship timeline and what our plans are for the future, he pulls me back in, a sturdy sureness keeping me afloat.
“Want another drink?” he asks as he taps the inside of my wrist, and I shake my head.
“No, thank you. One more before dinner, and I won’t make it through the meal,” I say. “And I’m going to destroy the lasagna your mom made.”
“I’d take care of you, you know,” he says soft in my ear. “I’d make sure you were alright.”
“I know.” I twist the fabric of his sweater in my hand and nod. “You’d probably wash my hair and put me to bed, too.”
“I would. I’d also tuck you in and leave you a glass of water. You’re safe with me, Lacey girl,” he says, and he presses his lips to my cheek in a kiss that ignites a flame of desire before walking away.
It almost sounds like a dream, but I know Shawn would take care of me. He’d keep an eye on me until morning, and that makes my heart sing.
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him since he came over to my apartment two nights ago and bent me over the couch. Since he asked me what about our arrangement felt fake and held my hand for half the drive here.
Nothing about it feels fake.
It hasn’t for a while now.
“Hey.” Katelin and Amanda, Shawn’s sisters, slide up next to me, and I blink out of my trance.
“Hi.” I set my glass down and smile. “Is it time for the sister interrogation?”
“God, no,” Katelin says.
“The fewer details we know about our brother’s personal life, the better,” Amanda adds. “We just wanted to say hi.”
“Oh. Well, hi. I’m so glad I get to be here with you all. It’s only been a few hours, but I already feel so welcomed by your family. I’m so happy.”
“Us, too,” Katelin agrees. “When the video of you two kissing at the game went viral, we were worried. We didn’t know if it was staged or something Shawn got dragged into doing. But it’s so obvious you two care a lot about each other. God, the way he looks at you is how my husband looked at me the first year of our relationship. Now I have to snap my fingers to get him to pay attention to me.”
I laugh. “Shawn is…”
Great isn’t sufficient.
Neither is wonderful.
I’m not sure there’s a word out there that’s big and vast enough to describe how perfect he is.
“I’m lucky,” is what I settle on, because I am.
It’s getting harder and harder to understand I’m going to have to walk away from him. There are only nine days left until the New Year, and I intend to spend every single one of them with him.
When the clock strikes midnight, I’ll look back and be happy about what we shared. I won’t let myself be sad but grateful to have learned so much more about my best friend. For all the little moments and the big ones, too.
“Brought you a snack,” Shawn says, reappearing by my side. He sets a napkin in my hand and rubs my shoulders. “That should hold you over until dinner.”
I smile at the bunch of grapes and pull one off the stem, popping it in my mouth. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, doll face.”
“Oh, my god.” I scrunch my nose and shake my head. “Absolutely not. That’s going on the avoid list forever.”
“I think we’re missing something,” Amanda says to Katelin, and I laugh.
“Sorry. He keeps coming up with these horrendous pet names,” I explain. “They’re getting worse and worse.”
“There’s only one she likes,” Shawn says, and he loops his arm around my waist. His fingers fan out across my hip, and his thumb draws a torturous pattern on the hem of my shirt. “All the others have been vetoed.”
“Two, actually. I really, really like two of them,” I say softly, and his eyes twinkle.
“I remember when I was stupid in love,” Katelin says. “The beginning part of a relationship is always the most fun.”
“Maybe. But I’m going to make sure we’re still stupid in love in ten years,” he says, and he looks down at me. “I’m going to make sure we’re still having fun, too. Would that be alright with you, Lacey girl?”
It’s an act.
I know it’s an act, but that doesn’t stop my stomach from swooping low. From my heart racing in my chest. From a warm and fuzzy sensation rolling down my shoulders and settling behind my ribs. From envisioning Shawn ten years down the road, his hair a little gray but his smile just as wide.
“Yes,” I say, a hysterical sound that bubbles up my throat and falls out into the world.
I don’t know if I’m saying yes to the pretend version of us or something that could be real, but I let it slip out anyway because I don’t care. With him, I always want to say yes.
Maybe I don’t have to have it all figured out right now. Maybe Shawn and I can just exist, soaked in gratitude and warmth and the spirit of the best time of the year. Maybe the rest will work itself out, what’s meant to be finding a way to be. Maybe we don’t have to rush it; it’s something we can ease into, like a bath or fresh cup of coffee.
If I blinked, I would’ve missed the way Shawn’s eyes widened. The dip of his chin and the touch of pink on the tips of his ears.
But I don’t miss it.
I see it as clear as day, just like I see him.
THE REST of the evening passes in loud laughter and hearty conversations. In seconds and thirds of lasagna, and a bottle of scotch replacing the bottle of wine. In Shawn’s hand on my thigh, the press of his fingers into my stockings a distracting thing.
We wind down by the fireplace, the logs crackling from heat and smoke rising to the chimney. I sit tucked into his side, my chin on his shoulder and my breath warm on his skin.
The two youngest girls have been put down for the night, and the adults are talking about the plans for tomorrow.
“We have a lot of houses to get to,” Shawn says. “This is the most donations Operation Give Back has ever seen.”
“People are in a giving mood,” his mom, Kelly, says. “Sometimes when the world is shit, you try to latch on to the good things happening around you. For a lot of people, that’s helping the community.”
“How many families are on your list?” I ask. “What’s a normal year look like?”
“Normally we have two hundred houses. This year we’ll be able to get to over three hundred,” he says.
I almost fall off the couch. “Oh, my gosh. Shawn, that’s wonderful. How does the day work? Do you drop the gifts on the porch? Do you stay and talk for a while?”
“Most of the families don’t know we’re coming. A couple do, because the kids asked for specific things we needed to get approval for; a dog from the rescue shelter. A wheelchair ramp for their grandmother to get in and out of the house. We didn’t want to show up and have the big gifts be a total surprise. I try to hang around for a few minutes, but I do want to make sure we get to everyone. We’re going to be hustling tomorrow.”
“That makes sense.” I take a sip of my drink and look around the room. “Do all of you participate?”
“We try to,” Katelin says. “It’s gotten harder with kids, especially the little ones. They get fidgety, and with the temperature dropping tonight, we don’t want them to get too cold.”
“I’d be happy to watch them,” I offer. “This is your family’s tradition, and I don’t want to take any time away from what you could be spending together.”
“You’re not, sweetheart,” Shawn says, soft enough for only me to hear. “I told you I want you there, and I do. We have a schedule so everyone can rotate and help out. Dad and I are the only ones who stay the whole time.”
“Okay. If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” He brushes his lips against my forehead and I smell the scotch on his tongue. I want to taste it on mine. “I’m sure about everything with you.”
I smile and nestle into his embrace, a deep cocoon of warmth I never want to leave. Kelly watches us from across the room, and there’s a knowing gleam in her eyes. I feel a gentle twist in my gut as I remember I won’t be here with them next year. There might be someone else in my place, and Kelly could be looking at her like that, too.
I hate it.
I want it to be me.
“We’re going to head to bed,” Amanda says. She picks up a sleeping Eliza and cradles her in her arms. “We’ll see everyone in the morning.”
“Do you need help with her?” Shawn asks, nodding to the eight-year-old spitfire who’s quiet for the first time all evening.
“We’re good.” Amanda hands her off to her husband and bends down to kiss her father’s cheek. “Night.”
Everyone else begins to say their goodnights. Glasses are collected, and the fire is put out. The tree lights are turned off, and the house starts to grow quiet.
“Ready?” Shawn asks. He stands up and offers me his hand.
“Yeah,” I say, and he pulls me to my feet. “Good night, Kelly and Michael. Thank you for a lovely first night.”
“Of course, sweetie.” Kelly squeezes my elbow as we pass. “We’re so glad you’re here.”
I smile as we climb the stairs to Shawn’s bedroom. His old space is in the back of the house, where it’s cool and quiet.
“How many girls have you had in here?” I ask when he opens the door and locks it behind us. “A thousand?”
“You’re severely overestimating my teenage capabilities. I played football six days a week. The hours I wasn’t playing, I was studying or spending time with my friends and family. I’ve never—” he pauses, the briefest flash of anguish on his face. “You’re the first.”
“I am?”
“Yeah.” His head bobs, and he busies himself with a jar of pencils on his desk. The old kind you have to sharpen, and my lips twitch in amusement. “Couldn’t ask for a better person to lose my virginity to.”
The laugh wooshes out of me, and before I know what I’m doing, I’m jumping in his arms. I tickle under his ribs and he launches me onto his bed, a plush mattress that bounces me twice before I settle against the sheets.
My laughter dies in my throat when I see Shawn staring at me.
“What?” I ask, a ghost of a question.
“You,” he says, and I reach for him the same time he reaches for me.
His lips crash against mine, a bruising display of affection after hours of pent-up tension. Small touches and subtle grazes of his fingers up my thigh. My chest against his back and the swish of my hips as I walked away from the dinner table.
“There’s not anyone here,” I whisper against his mouth before he drags his lips down my neck. Presses a kiss to the spot behind my ear. “We don’t have to pretend.”
Shawn pulls back. He looks down at me, and there’s a divot of wrinkles between his eyebrows. I try to rub them away with my thumb, but they don’t disappear. “What are you talking about?”
“Just… you know. In here we can be ourselves. We don’t have to act like we’re…”
“Do you—I still want to kiss you,” he says. “I always want to kiss you, even if we’re the only ones in the room. Is that… would that be okay with you?”
“Yeah.” I wrap my arms around his neck and bring him close to me. He tumbles onto the mattress, knees knocking against mine. “That would definitely be okay, because I always want to kiss you, too.”
It’s the first time I’ve really seriously thought about us having something long and lasting after the holidays have passed. Something we won’t let end but keep tending, keep building and growing.
A relationship.
A real relationship full of love and laughs and so much fun.
It wouldn’t be much different from what we have now.
He’s always been my safe space, my favorite person in the world from the moment I first met him.
Maybe he could be that for me forever.
When Shawn sets me on his lap and pulls my shirt over my head, I see it in his eyes.
He’s thinking it, too.
