Page 48 of Reindeer Flames
"The dumbass overran and tripped himself." Hart shook his head. "It was the least I could do."
"No, the least you could have done was finish the race like your grandfather expected." I waited until he met my gaze to continue. "You were never like them."
"No," he agreed. "Did you hear Grandpop today? Not only did he call Bopp on his bullshit, but he also stopped Granddad from saying anything mean about the tie."
"When one person stands up to a bully, it gives others the courage to do the same." My grandma had always said that in her thick Welsh accent. Gold had been my first example. When I had been timid and tried to hide in the background, she had always been bold and scrappy.
"You stood up to me." Hart grinned. "It hurt like hell, and I'm so glad you did."
The hot milk was ready. I poured it into our cups and brought them to the table. "You were brave, too," I reminded him. "You kept coming back."
"Of course I did! You're my mate!"
I rubbed my leg against his beneath the small table. "Merry Christmas, Mate."
"Merry Christmas."
"Fancy a trip to the vault before bed?"
He laughed at my slip into formal language, thanks to my formal attire and Welsh upbringing.
"I very much fancy."
We clinked our cups together and drank the steaming liquid as quickly as we could. We had hotter Christmas plans ahead.
THE END
