I chuckle. “This whole room is a surprise.”
“Well, yeah. But the sofa comes with a surprise too. Here.”
He hands the mug back to me and I take another greedy sip, deciding that now that I’m settled I’m drinking the whole thing, while Xar drops to his knees before me. He pulls something and the entire bottom half of the sofa slides out. Like a secret drawer. Another tug and interior footrest pops up essentially turning the sofa into a giant bed.
“Oh wow,” I gasp.
“We thought this would be great for movie nights. What do you think?”
I nod eagerly. “We should wake the others and try it out.”
“First things first, little dew drop,” Xar says with a soft smile, crawling onto the sofa beside me and leaning in carefully. “Merry Christmas, Evie.”
“Merry Christmas, Xar,” I whisper back.
Our lips touch in a tender kiss but I’m too terrified of spilling my drink on the sofa to deepen it, so instead I let out a pitiful whine which makes him laugh.
“Grab a blanket, snuggle in, enjoy your drink. I’m going to wake the others and make some breakfast for us all while they both shower.”
“Together?” I ask hopefully.
Xar laughs, a deep belly laugh this time and shakes his head with a wink. “Probably not, but the request is noted for future reference.”
We unwrap gifts in the lounge. The guys offered us to do it in the nest, but I didn’t see the point in moving everything. Besides, gifts should be opened around the tree, right?
The three of them insist I go first, and the moment I sit down after retrieving their gifts from my studio, Blaise starts passing me boxes with such exaggerated fanfare, I nearly fall over laughing.
The gifts from the three of them are overwhelming in their thoughtfulness. A Kindle with access to a whole library of books – Dane telling me I can readanythingI like – not just the old classics on Grams’ bookshelf. A thick woolen winter coat with hat, scarf, gloves and beautiful leather boots to go with it. More fluffy, fuzzy and thermal socks than I know what to do with. A case full of sweet treats, a machine that makes the smoothest most velvety hot chocolate. A reading pillow, more blankets,wildflower seeds, art supplies, cashmere jumpers, cable knit sweaters, buttersoft leggings…lingerie that makes my cheeks heat...it’s so much, and yet every single thing has been selected with love and not just given for the hell of it.
I’m emotionally overwhelmed by the time only three gifts and an envelope remain under the tree.
Blaise passes me the envelope first and inside I discover a handwritten note from him saying that I have one more present to come, but it won’t arrive until after my heat.Something to look forward to.
It’s a nice touch, giving me something positive post heat to focus on. It really helps settle those lingering nerves.
Dane has added a post script that says they intend to renovate every room in the house for me to turn this space into our forever home.If I’ll have them.
Xar has simply signed with an ‘I love you’ and a kiss.
Treasure. Their words, the intent behind their words, is the most precious gift of all. They’re promising us a future.
Then it’s onto the final gifts before I embarrass myself by balling my eyes out.
Dane’s box is first. Inside is a delicate silver locket with a tiny pressed honeysuckle preserved behind glass. His scent lingers on the pale pink satin ribbon. “So you’ll always have something of us near your heart,” he says, voice thick. “No matter where you go.”
Xar’s is next. It’s a hand-carved silver bracelet, smooth and worn and engraved with wildflowers and storm waves. “Made it myself,” he mutters, suddenly shy. “It’s rough, but it’s real.”
“It’s perfect,” I whisper.
Then Blaise hands me a thick, leather-bound book. Inside, the pages are empty, but sheet music lines fill them, waiting. His note inside is scrawled in ink:Write with me. Always.His scent curls off the paper smelling of home. Ofmine.
“I love them,” I say, and I mean it, as the tears begin to flow freely.
They wait, eyes expectant, and I fumble for the bundle I’ve hidden under my blanket. My gifts for them feel insignificant now under the weight of everything they’ve given me. Everything they’vedonefor me.
I hand out the frames one by one – the sketches I’ve done of them when they weren’t looking. Blaise tuning his bass in the early morning light. Xar focused in the kitchen. Dane bent over a book, head in hand. Each one is paired with a lyric we’ve written together – one that somehow matches the moment.
They’re quiet as they take them in.