⚠️ Sexual Content

After two hours of nonstop sledding, laughter, and just sharing time with one another, I talked Sloan into heading back to the house. I had to admit; I wasn't ready to end our fun either, but nightfall was fast approaching, and with no sunlight to keep us warm, the cold won.

Of all the muscle aches, bumps and bruises I had from a day of sledding down the hills of my family's farm, my face ached the most. I couldn't remember the last time I had smiled and laughed so hard. Sloan's playfulness in the snow was intoxicating. My sides even hurt from laughing so hard, especially from when I watched Sloan go down the hill for the first time by herself. I cursed myself for not having my phone to capture the moment, but knew I would have lost it in the snow from having to catch her at the bottom. Sloan made it easy to ignore the other two that were out there with us, but I'd be lying if I said I could ignore Mikah and Shelby completely. The day had been a bigger improvement than I had felt in a long time, though—today I wasn't wishing Shelby was laughing with me. Instead, I wished she wasn't there at all.

"I'm freezing!" Sloan's body shivered against the palm I had placed on her lower back as we entered the house. "So worth it!"

My lips curled upwards as Sloan rambled on about how much fun she had and how, by the end, she loved going off large bumps and almost crashing. I knew that was half the fun, reliving my childhood days on the farm, but it also saddened me to know Sloan had never experienced a childhood like mine.

"How was it?" Mom greeted us in the mudroom, enthusiastic for all the details. "I could hear you all laughing from the kitchen."

"Amazing!" Sloan answered excitedly. "Who knew snow could be so fun?"

Literally everyone, I thought.

Sloan pulled the knit cap off, making her brown hair turn into static chaos atop her head, causing me to chuckle while kicking off snow boots. The wet slush at my feet absorbed into my socks, making them even wetter and colder.

"I'm so glad you had fun!" Mom cooed as she retrieved two paper bags with handles from the floor. "And I hope you don't mind, but I got you a little something for tonight." Her hand danced as she spoke—something I knew my mother did when nervous. "It's a tradition around here, and Ollie hasn't been home for it in a while. I couldn't resist."

I knew what was going to be in the bags. Acting like a child, I began groaning, about to throw a tantrum because my mother was embarrassing. It had been years since I had done this.

"Ma, please don't make us wear those."

"Wear what?" Sloan peeked into the bag. I knew already that Sloan was going to love this. She would likely love any holiday festivity that my mother threw at her.

"Well..." Mom's hands waved flamboyantly again. "We do this thing where we all wear matching pajamas, drink hot chocolate and watch holiday movies on Christmas Eve." My mother caught my eyes and grinned with reddened cheeks. "It's silly..."

Sloan's glossed over eyes told me exactly what I already knew... she loved this idea.

"That is a beautiful tradition." Sloan smiled at the red and green plaid in her hands, blinking back tears.

I took the matching bag from my mother and stopped my tantrum. For Sloan, I would wear the damn matching pajamas. Even if I never liked the tradition.

"I will let you two get changed, then." Mom beamed with my surrender. "I'm going to go talk Shelby and Mikah into wearing theirs. Mikah is just as hardheaded."

As my mother disappeared behind the mudroom door, I watched Sloan hug the pajamas and swipe her eyes once with a sniffle. I knew another gift meant just as much to her as the knives from the day before. Again, I was saddened over her never being given a proper gift until now. Something so cheap and simple meant so much more to her than it would to me or my siblings. I knew I had taken this type of thing for granted too many times, especially now that my dad wasn't here to enjoy it with us.

"I'm not wearing that shit!" Mikah's voice rang throughout the house. "We are not ten anymore! We are grown-ass men!"

Sloan giggled at the same time as me, giving me a cute, but­ brief, side glance as she did. There were many years of these arguments, and I knew my sister would likely give our mother a hard time if she were here too.

My hand positioned itself on the small of Sloan's back, and I bent towards her to press my lips to her chilled ear. "You're one of us now," I whispered and gave her back a little rub. I then left the room to change into plaid.

>>

Sloan and I had already drank two hot chocolates each before Mikah spiked the Dutch oven with Baileys' Irish Cream. Leave it to the bartender to want everyone boozy during the holiday. It was probably for the best. This was the longest we had gone without fighting in years. My plans of hiding Sloan and myself away tonight were futile. My mother wasn't having it. She wanted family time.

Penelope Mulligan had lined the counters, as she always did, with all the fixings for the best hot chocolate drinks you could dream of concocting. Marshmallows, caramel, whipped cream, chocolate shavings, and peppermint sticks seemed to suffice for everyone but the two chefs. I scanned the cabinets, knocking over multiple jars of spices, until finally finding the ones missing. Sloan's eyes lit up, and she held out her mug for the same when I pulled them free from their hiding place. I happily dropped a cinnamon stick and a pinch of cayenne into her warmed cocoa and watched as Sloan held the mug with two hands beneath her nose and took in the heavenly scent of chocolate mixed with spice.

After many laughs through the movie Elf, which was Mikah's choice after being forced to wear plaid pajamas, my mother had decided on How the Grinch Stole Christmas—the animated version—to wrap up our Christmas Eve. I couldn't deny the small bout of disappointment that hit when Sloan sat with my mother during the first movie, but I understood her reasoning. The two of them held a bond that no one else in this room could touch... holidays as widows. Thankfully, it had been Sloan who brought it up first. His mother made sure not to pry but did offer Sloan a hug that Mom may have needed more than the girl in her arms.

The second movie proved different, with Sloan taking her place on the couch beside me. At first she distanced herself, as if we were at a middle school dance, keeping us at least a foot apart. But slowly, she moved herself closer until I could finally cover us with a knit blanket. This way, I could snake an arm around her with no one noticing. Not that it mattered, because soon Sloan had sunken into me comfortably with her head on my chest, attention fully divested into the movie. As hard as she tried, her eyelids drooped until they became too heavy and she gave into sleep. She didn't even get to see the Grinch save Christmas.

I missed the ending too, being too busy watching Sloan's sleeping body rise and fall with each breath I took. I liked her here, in my arms, and that was a fucking scary thought. This morning, perhaps I was still in denial that I had such powerful feelings for her, but now I was confirming it as I dropped my lips to her hair and placed a kiss there as she slept. All the rules I had set for myself were vanishing like smoke when around her, and for that, I found her terrifying in a good way. Our situation, while complicated in our normal setting, felt completely different here. I was in complete awe the more I learned of her past and the more I got to know her as a person, not just as a student or some girl I took home one night. It was stupid, but I felt like the Grinch, with a heart that was suddenly swelling in my chest—all because this girl saw the good in me when I couldn't see it in myself.

As I withdrew my lips and hugged Sloan closer to my body, I looked up from her for the first time in a while, knowing the feeling of being watched. I was correct, meeting a pair of familiar blue eyes. Shelby refused to blink as she stared, with eyebrows pushed together as if questioning what I was doing. Was this hurt that I was seeing? This was new. That's what I wanted to see from her for so long. I wanted Shelby to realize she made a mistake and come back, that I could have a career and love her at the same time. I may have fucked up, but she fucked up, too. She ruined us with her lack of patience, and now she was finally seeing that I could do both, have a career and time for family. I never believed a day like this would happen, but even as my brother held Shelby as he watched the movie, I held no jealousy of Mikah. It was the first time in a long time, and it felt good. It was me who broke eye contact with Shelby to gaze at the sleeping girl in my arms. Shelby was my past, and it was a pill I could finally swallow.

Now if I could only work on the sleep I was lacking, unlike the girl I was currently holding.

"Let's get you to bed," I said, whispering to Sloan's ear.

Sloan sleepily nodded against my chest as I scooped her with both arms and stood from the couch. I wished my equally exhausted mother goodnight and a merry Christmas—as the time was nearing midnight—and carried Sloan off to the spare bedroom.

I hated having to place her on the bed, enjoying the way she had nestled into my cradling arms. I had to admit; she looked damn cute in the plaid pajama pants that matched my own. I swiped the loose hairs that had fallen from Sloan's ponytail and tucked them behind her ear. Our amazing day together was ending, bringing the holiday break one day closer to an end. I wasn't sure if I was ready for that to happen.

As I turned away to retreat to my childhood bedroom, Sloan's hand gently wrapped around my wrist and gave it a gentle tug.

"Ollie," she said, a plea for me to not go.

My chest tightened. The room was dark, but I could still see her sleepy eyes on me. For the first time all day, I had Sloan to myself, and I knew to take advantage of precious time when given the opportunity. Tomorrow would be busy too.

"Scoot over," I said, whispering and using my head to motion for Sloan to move to the opposite side of the bed.

Sloan did as she was told, sliding herself closer to the bed's edge and tossing the covers open so I could slip beneath them. I took off my shirt and gave it a toss to a nearby chair before joining her in the bed. As if second nature, my arm extended to the space above her pillow so Sloan could move herself back into my arms. And after doing so, peered up at me with the same expression she gave me today in the kitchen. Neither of us were quite willing to speak of what was on both of our minds, but I was enjoying just watching each other, too. This girl was crazy beautiful, even in the dark with nothing more than a little light coming in from the window, which from years of living here I knew was the light from the old barn I'd been avoiding.

As her eyes searched mine, I watched as she attempted to speak, but repeatedly stopped with a bite of her lip. Even that slight movement had the muscles of my stomach contracting with anticipation. We waited all day to clear the air about a kiss... one I was ready to repeat.

"You broke your rule today," she said, finally whispering more than the sound of a single syllable. "Ollie..."

"Our rule," I said, with my own whispers. I knew I was ready to break it, but I wanted to be sure she was ready, too. As my smile grew, so did hers. "Sloan, today was amazing with you. More than amazing."

"Ollie, I loved every second of this day. Even the baking. It was perfect," she said as I used my free hand to cradle her cheek in my palm. "I like you, Ollie. I more than like you."

It was all I needed to hear. "I more than like you too."

With my hand still on her cheek, I brought her face closer and massaged her warm lips with mine as the nerves in my stomach unknotted. Sloan kissed me back, slowly at first, with tiny nibbles at my lips. I allowed her to control how fast we went, but her whimpers against my mouth, body movements, and the parting of her lips for further exploration told me we were of the same level of need. Sloan was a new favorite flavor on my palate, and nothing or no one compared.

My tongue met Sloan's with a slow caress, locking us into a kiss as my hands wandered their way down her tight frame. As soon as my hand snuck beneath her tee—brushing the skin of my palm to the skin of her abdomen—her back arched with another needful whimper against my mouth.

My hand continued its journey up her shirt until I was palming her breast, feeling the peak of her hardened nipple. My boxers were becoming constricting with my growth, and I knew Sloan was aware of the erection pressed against her outer thigh. Thoughts of her breast within the confines of my lips made me even harder. I gave her nipple a little tug, causing her mouth to drop open and allow the escape of a closed-eyed moan.

With the loss of our kiss, my mouth wandered Sloan's neck and jawline, peppering kisses on her while withdrawing my hand from her shirt and moving my body to gain better control over hers. I got to my knees and straddled her legs, taking her wrists and gently pinning them above her head. Another passionate kiss was taken from her, with my erection pressing into her stomach. Her mouth dropped open when she felt it. Again, she released a moan that had me wondering just how fast I could get her undressed, and allowing the freedom of her wrists from my grasp to try.

We became a mess of hands—my fingers at the hem of her shirt as hers were finding the lining of my pajama pants. Sloan let go of them to sit up and hold her arms above her head. I removed her shirt and tossed it somewhere into the heap of covers behind us in haste. The connection of my mouth to her breast was better than imagined... the taste of her skin, the cries of pleasure that she tried to hold back and failed, the way she pressed her entire body closer to mine with the need for more. This differed from before, and I didn't know what I had been missing. It took everything in me to release her breast so I could work my way down to the elastic band of her pants. Slowly, with only the tips of my fingers, I shimmied the pants with the lace thong beneath them down her smooth legs and discarded them.

I sat on the backs of my heels, drinking in the sight of Sloan's naked body that was begging for every inch to be traced by my lips. Her breasts rose and fell with heavy breaths until I finally caught her stare. Sloan's eyes danced with mine as she moved her legs so that I was between them. She brought me down to her with a tug of my pants until we were chest to chest and buried into a kiss. With her fingers locked into my hair and her body moving in motion with mine, I had to feel her... really feel her again.

Leaning one arm into the mattress and maintaining the lip lock with Sloan, I reached into my pants, gripping myself firmly, and freed my erection from its cotton boundaries. As soon as my tip touched her dampened slit, Sloan sucked in a breath, moving her hips so that she could feel more of me, and I could feel more of her. Sloan ground herself into me as I kissed my way slowly back up her stomach, to her chest, up her throat, until I took her mouth again. She was wet, and I could feel her needful heat against my cock. With a deepened kiss, I gripped one of her thighs firmly, wrapped it around my back, and finally entered her. And through a night of wordless passion, we allowed our bodies and moans to tell each other everything we couldn't quite bring ourselves to say.

>>

With an incredibly parched mouth, I carefully withdrew my arm from beneath Sloan's naked frame, kissing her jaw and whispering a promise to the sleeping girl I would return soon. It took a few minutes to locate my pants—finding them on the floor besides Sloan's—and then a few more minutes to figure out which ones were mine. I tugged them up, opened the door, and tightened their drawstring as I proceeded down the hall to the kitchen. I was expecting the room to be empty, but found myself in the company of one other.

Shelby sat at the large farm-style table with a blonde ponytail still perfectly intact, as it was when I last saw her. This told me she hadn't slept yet—she always slept with it down. Shelby was quietly staring down at her hands. I glanced back at the clock on the microwave, seeing it was nearly three in the morning.

"Why are you up?" I asked.

I pulled out a glass from the cabinet to fill with water from the tap. I didn't care what her answer was going to be, but thought I should ask to be civil. It always took forever to get the water to turn as cold as I wanted, but I remained patient as I held the glass below the stream, allowing it to fill halfway with lukewarm water.

"You weren't in your room," Shelby said, whispering without looking away from her hands.

Puzzled, I turned now to face her, unwilling to reply to that statement. No explanations were owed as to why I wasn't in my room. I owed her nothing—other than maybe an apology for skipping out on our dinner and ignoring the calls after. I didn't care why she was looking for me, because it was likely a response to seeing me on the couch with Sloan. Instead, I pressed my lips to the edge of the glass and took a long, drawn-out sip of water while gazing at her.

"Mikah proposed tonight." Shelby's lip trembled, still maintaining a stare at her hands.

Oh. My brows lifted, not expecting that.

Perhaps I should have felt a blow, or, at the very least, the sting of my brother legally wishing to claim the woman I had loved since fifteen. I waited a few moments for that feeling to hit me, but it didn't. My body and mind were still in tune with Sloan's, and I wanted nothing more than to be back in bed with her.

"Congrats," I said, setting the empty glass in the sink. "Where's the ring?"

A few more moments passed before tear-filled blue eyes lifted for the first time since I'd been in the room. "You weren't in your room..."

"Ah." I nodded, now understanding what she meant and why she had gone looking for me. "And I won't be there in the morning either."

I felt a little pathetic that had this occurred a month ago, I would have jumped at the chance to take her back, doing the same thing to my brother as Mikah had done to me. For the first time, I felt sorry for Mikah—who was likely in his own childhood room, stirring about a proposal that didn't go as planned. Did Mikah know why Shelby had hesitated to accept?

"Mikah is a person, not a placeholder." I shook my head at her before moving across the kitchen. "Tell him yes, or let him go. You're too late, Shelby."

Neither of us had more to say to that. Shelby stood, swiped her eyes, and disappeared into Mikah's room without uttering another word. Just one very heavy breath.

I returned down the hallway to the spare bedroom, slowly shutting the door behind me. I smiled instantly, seeing Sloan curled up and sleeping so peaceful. I returned to my spot beside her. While exhaling a breath I felt like I'd been holding for nearly two years, I wrapped my arms around Sloan and placed a kiss to her bare shoulder before falling into a deep sleep.