Page 62 of A Christmas For Holly

“I wasn’t going to suggest that,” I defended, rubbing his arms gently. “I was going to say I’ll come up here—with food, games, and we can...”

“What?” His eyebrow arched.

“Sit, talk, kiss,” I said, my voice softer.

He tilted his chin, a smile pulling at his lips. “I’ll be okay alone, and your family will miss you being there.”

“I’d be alone,” I murmured. “Hell, I don’t want either of us to be alone,” I said, my voice breaking. “And if you can’t be there with me and my family, I’ll be the loneliest person at that table.”

He frowned as if he couldn’t quite believe what I was saying, or maybe because I was pushing him too hard. But I meant every word. Somehow, in our short time together, Holly had become my everything. And without him, the thought of being surrounded by my family felt hollow. I was probably smothering him, pushing too hard, but the fear of losing him, even if I didn’t fully have him yet, gnawed at me.

“Can I…”Visit. Kiss you. Need you?

He pressed his forehead to mine. “Yeah,” was all he said. “But you need to go now.”

“Will you be okay?”

“I will.”

I wasn’t convinced, but I forced myself to pull back, turning away reluctantly and walking to where Duncan waited by the car. Twice, I turned, checking on Holly, and each time, he smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. The crisp morning air bit at any small amount of exposed skin, and the sky was a clear, piercing blue—the kind that shows up and makes snow glitter under a winter sun. Everything felt too perfect, too quiet for the storm of emotions churning inside me.

Duncan stood there, silent as I approached, his expression full of unspoken questions. I could feel them hanging in the air between us, but I wasn’t ready to answer any of them.

He opened his mouth, likely to ask what the hell had just happened, but I cut him off before he could say a word. “Not a word,” I warned, sliding into the passenger seat.

“But—”

“To anyone.” My tone left no room for argument.

He closed his mouth and nodded, respecting the boundary. He might have been my older brother, but he knew better than to push when I was like this.

The drive back to town was quiet. Banks of snow piled up on either side of the road, reflecting the sunlight in harsh, blinding patches. The landscape looked pristine and untouched, yet my thoughts were anything but. My mind was confused and longing, all tangled up in Holly.

When Duncan finally dropped me off at my place, a small two-bed at the foot of the mountain a little before the main road into town began, he stopped me with a hand on my arm. “I won’t say anything, but are you okay? I’ve never seen you date… I’ve never seen you with anyone before… and Paul is?—”

“I’m demisexual,” I explained to Duncan, keeping it simple. “It means I don’t feel attraction to someone unless I’ve built an emotional connection first?—”

“I know what it means. Bailey explained.”

I held up a hand. “I know you’re not—it’s something I’ve only learned about myself in the last few years.” Then it hit me what he said. “Wait, why have you been talking to Bailey about me?”

He dipped his gaze and shrugged. “We’ve all seen how you look at Holly, and we want to be able to support you if you need us. Bailey suggested demi, so Callum and I did some research.”

I loved all three of my brothers, and though we’d had our ups and downs, that moment was one of the best displays of brotherly love I’d ever experienced.

“Wow,” was all I could say, and he shrugged again. “I love you too.”

“Whatever, dude,” he murmured, suddenly shy.

I felt I owed him more, or maybe I wanted to tell him more because I had to tell someone before I burst. “It’s only been a few days, but…” I scrubbed my eyes. “Holly’s the only one I’ve ever wanted for real.”

Duncan looked at me, understanding dawning in his eyes, but he didn’t push. “Okay,” he said, finally letting me go.

Inside my house, the heating had been left on low, thanks to someone in the family, and I turned it up, the warmth seeping into the space. But as the room warmed, I didn’t know what to do next.

Maybe sit on my sofa and cry. Or drown my confusion in alcohol.

Did being attracted to someone as deeply as I was to Holly mean I was in love? Was this what people meant byfated? If I was only ever meant to feel this kind of attraction for one person, didn’t that mean it had to be love? Or was it something else entirely? The confusion wrapped around me, tight and suffocating. I’d never felt anything like this before. Attraction, need—these were new, overwhelming sensations, and it had always been Holly.

---