Chapter 24

LILY

Upon waking up on Christmas morning, my nostrils are instantly hit with the smell of something familiar and delicious. ~Are those cookies?~ I frown and kick the blankets off myself, instantly regretting it. I hate the cold.

I head downstairs to see Dad pulling out a tray of chocolate chip cookies and placing them on the counter next to another one.

“Cookies at this hour?” I ask, sitting at the counter.

“Merry Christmas!” Dad smiles, handing me a cookie.

“Merry Christmas,” I reply, taking a bite of the warm cookie. It melts in my mouth and tastes even better than it smells.

“You always asked for cookies for breakfast on Christmas,” Dad says, taking a bite of his own. “And I thought, why not?” He shrugs casually, shoving practically the whole cookie in his mouth.

“Why did you make so many?” I ask, grabbing another one.

“For our visitors,” he says casually, making me freeze.

“Who?” I feel my eyes widen.

“You’ll see.” He winks, making my stomach knot.

“Is it Mom?” I ask, not giving him a chance to answer.

“No. I would never do that to you,” Dad says, walking around the counter to me and hugging me.

“Thank God.” I breathe out a sigh of relief and hug him back.

I change the subject and grab the pile of envelopes perched on the edge of the counter.

“Who are all these from?” I ask.

“Who knows?” Dad shrugs, sitting down next to me and grabbing another cookie. “We should have cookies for breakfast more often,” he comments as I start ripping into the cards.

They’re all Christmas cards from boring people I’ve never met before. Occasionally, Dad would comment about one being a high school friend or his dentist. ~What type of dentist sends Christmas cards?~

My throat sinks into my stomach when I read one addressed to me.

~Merry Christmas, baby girl. Miss you, baby girl.~

~xoxo Love, Mom.~

Without hesitation, I rip the card up into small pieces, add it to the pile of ripped envelopes, and keep opening cards.

~If Mom actually missed me, she would call, text, email, or something.~ She doesn’t truly care about me. Not that I want her to. It just shows how much of a fake bitch she really is.

Dad doesn’t say anything, but from the corner of my eye, I see him giving me a sympathetic look.

There’s a loud knock on the door.

“You want to go get that?” he asks a little too casually for my liking.

I narrow my eyes at him as I slowly get off my stool and go to the door.

“Merry Christmas!” I’m greeted with Tayla and Gemma both calling out before I’m engulfed in their arms.

“Merry Christmas,” I say and hug them back the best I can.

“Do I smell cookies?” Gemma asks, pulling back first.

“Dad made them for breakfast.” I smile, making them both push past me to go straight to the kitchen.

“Merry Christmas, Lily,” Mason says as he steps forward.

“Merry Christmas.” I smile, giving him a quick hug.

“I’ve been assigned as the present carrier,” he says, holding up two large shopping bags he manages to hold with one hand.

“Come inside,” I order, grabbing one of the bags.

Mason and I put the presents under the tree together. I notice they’re all from Tayla or Gemma, except for two. Two are from Mason to his sisters.

I smile to myself as I put them under the tree.

“You better go get some cookies before your sisters eat them all,” I tell Mason as I watch them stuff cookie after cookie into their mouths.

“Typical,” he mutters, but quickly grabs one.

“I think I can say I officially love Christmas,” Tayla sighs, licking her lips and patting her stomach.

“Me too,” Gemma agrees, swiping another cookie.

“You better slow down, or you won’t be able to eat the ham,” Dad chuckles, making both their eyes widen.

“Lily, I love your dad, and he’s adopting me,” Tayla announces, making everyone laugh except Mason, who has a content smile on his face.

“I’ll be back,” Dad states before he disappears.

“Seriously, Lily, love your dad,” she repeats.

“He’s pretty great,” I agree.

My dad isn’t gone long, but when he returns, his arms are full of presents, which he not-so-delicately dumps under the tree.

“Do you want to open presents now or after lunch?” he asks, turning around.

Both girls jump to their feet and rush over to the tree, sitting down cross-legged. They remind me so much of myself when I was younger.

My heart aches for them. This is probably the first real Christmas they’ve ever truly had.

As long as my dad and I are in their lives, they will never have another shitty Christmas.

“Lily! This is from me!” Gemma exclaims, shoving a present into my arms.

“Grab that one.” I point to the present I got her.

She grabs the present and rips into it without hesitation.

Gifts are exchanged, and paper is flying in the air, along with laughter and excited squeals.

“I have something for you,” Mason says to me quietly as he hands me a small box. “It’s kind of a shit gift.”

He blushes as I slowly tear the paper. I open the small box and pick up the beaded bracelet that sits inside. I smile as I see the red and green beads, but when I see the “M heart L” beads, I have to bite my lip to stop the tears I can feel building up.

“Thank you,” I say, slipping it straight onto my wrist.

“I stole Gemma’s beads to make it,” he whispers, making me laugh.

“I got you something too,” I say, reaching for his present.

“Thank you,” he says before he has even opened it.

“You’ve got to open it first. You might hate it,” I say, and he laughs.

He painstakingly opens the present, making me want to just rip it out of his hands and open it myself.

My eyes are glued to his face as he looks at the gift. At first, his face is completely unreadable. Then I see his lips twitch up into a smile. I made him a scrapbook full of photos from the day we met—of both of us, of him and Liam and Brittany.

“How’d you get these?” he asks, running his fingers over the photo of him and Liam on the sideline of a football field, dressed in their Greendale uniforms.

“Brittany gave me a lot, and then Liam gave me this one,” I say as I point to the photo of him and Liam pulling silly faces.

“Traitors.” He chuckles, looking through the photos.

“How did you get this?” Laughing again, he points to the photo of us at the steakhouse.

“I went and took a picture of it.” I blush, remembering how people were giving me the side-eye when I did.

“I love this one,” he whispers, tracing his fingers over the photo of us after he won the state. He’s sweaty and exhausted but looks so happy. His arm is around me, and I’m wearing his letterman jacket—dressed in enemy colors.

“Me too,” I agree, resting my cheek against his shoulder. This has been the best Christmas I’ve ever had. I’m surrounded by people I love who all love me back.

***

For the first time in over a month, I am actually feeling good. In all aspects of my life—not just one.

Christmas was two days ago, and I’m still smiling about how perfect the day was. I normally feel a hangover for the first few days after the holidays, but not this year—I feel energized.

My nightmares have lessened. My relationship with my dad just keeps getting better. Brittany is still hanging out at my house every single night.

I asked why she isn’t staying at Liam’s house. She brushed me off and said that his family is just as crazy as hers, and she likes the quiet of my house. Apparently, Liam does too.

He comes over to my house every morning for breakfast and doesn’t leave until just before dinner time. They both even showed up after dinner on Christmas.

And Mason.

Mason has been coming over every morning, and we walk to the park together. He’s acting like the Mason I met last summer. He’s goofy, happy, and making jokes.

But there are two things that are bothering me, and I plan on confronting him about it today.

“You look like you’re on a mission.” Brittany laughs from my counter as she stuffs her face with bacon.

“She does,” Dad agrees from the opposite side of the kitchen, where he’s leaning against the counter eating a bowl of cereal.

“Why are you eating that?” I ask, frowning. He cooks so much food and still chooses to eat a bowl of cereal.

“He’s weird,” Liam pipes up from next to Brittany before he looks at my dad. “In a good way,” he adds, giving him a sheepish smile.

“Why are you so worked up?” Britt asks me as I pour out my glass of water for the third time.

“I’ve got some questions I need answered,” I state, setting the glass down.

“You’re so serious.” She smirks and nudges Liam with her elbow.

“Ooh, trouble in paradise already?” he teases.

“Don’t you two have your own homes?” I snap, rolling my eyes playfully. Truth be told, I actually love having them here. It’s how I imagine what having siblings would be like, but according to them, it’s nothing like having a sibling.

Apparently, having an older or younger sibling is the most annoying thing in the world. I mentioned it to Mason the other day. He agreed with them.

Speaking of Mason, he should be here any minute. I straighten out my sweater and run my hands over my jeans before picking up my glass and refilling it again.

“Why are you so nervous?” Dad asks me as I take a small sip of water.

“I’m not,” I lie. There’s no way in hell I’m talking about this with my dad.

The second I hear a knock on the door, I pour out my water and say a quick goodbye before heading for the door. I throw it open and startle Mason.

“Good morning,” he says but narrows his eyes slightly. “Something wrong?” he questions.

“Yes,” I reply before grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the park. I really wish we could have this conversation in the warmth of my room, but with all the eavesdroppers (aka Brittany and Liam) around, I feel safer having it at the park, which seems like it’s becoming “our place.”

“Slow down, Lily.” He laughs, making me stop in my tracks.

“This is the problem!” I exclaim, throwing my hand in the air.

“There’s a problem?” All the amusement disappears off his face and is replaced with a frown.

“Yes! We have two problems!” I hold up two fingers.

“Care to share these problems?” Mason asks calmly, gently pushing my hand down.

“Why are you calling me Lily?” I blurt out. I was going to wait until we were at the park, but I guess right outside my house is good enough.

“That is your name, isn’t it?” He chuckles, making my frown deepen.

“You never call me Lily,” I state matter-of-factly. “You always call me Princess.”

Understanding crosses his face.

“I guess I was trying to take things slow, you know? Not to pressure you,” he replies, making me roll my eyes.

“Before we even started dating, you called me Princess, so that’s a BS excuse, and besides, I just don’t like you calling me Lily,” I tell him.

His shoulders drop slightly. “I guess it’s also because, with the injury, going pro probably won’t happen, and if I don’t go pro, I can’t give you everything you deserve. I’m not sure I can give you the life of a princess.”

“How many times do I need to say I don’t care about any of that?” I say, pulling him into a hug. “You’re my prince, so any life with you is going to make me feel like a princess.”

I feel him relax in my arms, relieved.

“I’ll call you Princess again,” he whispers into my ear.

It’s like music to my ears hearing him say that.

“Good,” I say, feeling all the annoyance leave me. I grab ahold of his hands and start walking again.

“What’s the other problem?” he asks. Now my cheeks heat up as I suddenly feel embarrassed.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” I mumble, making sure I look straight ahead, but I can feel his eyes looking at me.

“Come on, Princess, you can tell me,” he says, tugging my hand slightly so our bodies bump into each other.

I don’t know if it’s because Mason finally called me Princess again or because being this close to him again has gone to my head, but I find myself word-vomiting at him.

“You haven’t kissed me again since we first went to the park. If you don’t want to kiss me anymore, that’s fine, but you’ve got to tell me because I really like kissing you and if yo—”

My rambling is abruptly cut off as Mason grabs my face, smashing his lips against mine. There’s no gentleness like the last time we kissed. This kiss is rough and desperate.

I grab the back of his head, trying to thread my fingers through his hair, but it’s too short now. Instead, I just push his head closer to mine.

I kiss him back just as roughly, wanting him to feel the pain he caused me and the depth of my love for him. I push my tongue against his lips, which he opens for me without hesitation. He lets my tongue lead our kiss for a moment before he takes over, dominating me.

Mason moves his hands from my face down to my waist. He tries to slowly pull his lips away from mine, but I don’t let him. I push on the back of his head so he can’t break our kiss just yet.

If I had it my way, we would never stop kissing, but I kind of need to breathe. I slowly pull back this time and rest my forehead against his. My lips feel swollen and tingly.

We’re both breathing hard, our breath showing up in white clouds. His eyes are still closed, his eyelashes fluttering the smallest amount against his cheeks as tiny snowflakes drop onto him.

I can’t help but give him another kiss. This time, it’s just a quick peck.

Mason’s eyes fly open, and a large smile breaks out on his face.

“I’ve missed kissing you,” I tell him honestly, moving my hands down to his neck and into the collar of his coat, making him shiver.

“Me too.” He sighs, closing his eyes again.

“Mason,” I say, making his eyes open again.

“Princess.” He smiles.

I pull my forehead off his and run my hands over his smooth cheeks.

“Can we go home?” I ask, slowly pulling my hands down his neck and across his chest, making him shiver.

“Your house?” he asks gruffly, grabbing a hold of my hands and stopping them from moving any lower.

“There are too many people at my house.” I shake my head.

Mason mentioned the other day that his mom is barely home again, and his sisters are always out shopping or having sleepovers with their friends. Apparently, their friends’ parents understand how terrible their mom is and are always inviting the girls over.

He looks at me for a moment, like he’s trying to read my mind, before he nods and threads our fingers together.

We walk hand in hand back past my house, where both Brittany and Liam’s cars are still parked, toward his home.

“Are you hungry?” he asks as we walk into the living room.

“No,” I reply.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Mason suggests as we take off our coats.

“That sounds good,” I say, removing my boots and leaving them neatly next to the messy pile of shoes. I head straight for the stairs.

“I, um, I don’t have a TV in my room anymore,” he replies sheepishly. “Actually, I don’t have anything in my room anymore. Just an air mattress,” he adds, cheeks turning red.

“Where’s your bed?” I ask, wondering where the hell his bed would have gone.

“Mom would’ve sold it.” He shrugs, seeming to not care. “Before I came back for the holidays, she had some drunk staying in there,” he adds before pulling on his bottom lip.

“Did you know I’ve never actually slept on an air mattress?” I tell him, walking over to stand directly in front of him.

“Don’t try to make me feel better,” he snorts as I wrap my arms around his neck.

“It’s the truth. Could you see my mom buying an air mattress?” I say, raising my eyebrows.

This time, he laughs and shakes his head.

“No, I couldn’t,” he replies before he hesitantly places his hands on my waist.

“Did you not have sleepovers?” he questions as I push my body against his.

“Yeah, but we just slept in the same bed,” I answer, running my hands over his shoulders, making sure to be gentle with his right one. He hasn’t mentioned his injury at all in the last month, but I’ve seen him flinching a couple of times and trying to hide his pain.

I rise onto my tiptoes, bringing our lips tantalizingly close.

“Want to show me it?” I whisper.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Princess?” he whispers back, his lips barely brushing against mine.

“Depends. Is it working?” I ask, sliding one of my hands down his chest and beneath his sweater and shirt, letting a single finger trace the contours of his stomach.

“Maybe,” he mutters, goosebumps breaking out on his skin.

“Just kiss me already,” I demand.