Page 78 of Deadly Secrets

Maggie laughed while I coughed and asked me between giggles, “Christ…what?”

“So…Ander and I watched many Christmas movies as kids, and we called it ‘Christmathon.’ Our parents used to celebrate the holidays together, but when I left for Switzerland and we stopped hanging out, I would watch them on my own or with Sarah. She came up with this cool idea two years ago for our ‘Christmathon’ sessions. We’d pick a particular word for each movie we watched. Whenever a character in the movie said that word, we’d take a shot. She sneaked into our principal’s office and stole a bottle of whiskey the first year, then grabbed a bottle of vodka last year. We should do it when Noah’s here. Everyone gets to pick their poison and snacks. It’ll be fun.” My voice squeaked at the end. I was so excited.

“If it involves alcohol, I’m in.”

We continued working on the next batch of cookies while “All I Want for Christmas Is You” by Mariah Carey played in the background.

An hour later, Zayn and Ander walked into the kitchen. Rosita was helping us with the cleanup, and the final batch was cooling down on the counter. Zayn tried to pick one from the tray, but I was able to slap his hand away before he snatched a chocolate chip cookie. He gifted me with one of his characteristic smirks.

“Ouch. You’re very protective over your cookies.”

“Yes, I am. They are for tomorrow, so you’ll have to wait,” I exclaimed.

Ander came out of the laundry room, holding two hand towels and throwing one to Zayn.

“What are your plans for today? We could resume your self-defense training in the gym downstairs,” Zayn suggested.

We had been training on and off for the last few weeks, although this time, we kept the sessions professional and our clothes on.

“Yes, that’d be great. I haven’t heard from the stalker lately, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared if they show up again…” It had been a few weeks since they threatened me with a knife, but I was worried that they would corner me when I was alone and helpless. At least I wanted to be ready if it happened again.

“Get changed. I’ll see you downstairs in ten.”

* * *

I could hear “Suffering” by Melrose Avenue blasting through the speakers as I descended the steps to the basement, which was cleverly divided into three distinct sections, each serving a different purpose. To the left was a cozy little kitchenette with a dark wooden table positioned at its center. A massive L-shaped leather sofa stretched out directly across from the kitchenette, facing an impressive 85-inch TV. On the right-hand side was a dedicated workout area. The presence of weights, dumbbells, exercise mats, and other modern equipment gave the space a fitness-friendly atmosphere. The room screamed man cave.

“Hey there.” I made my way toward the mats, where Zayn was currently stretching. With each movement, his shorts and T-shirt clung to his body, and I wondered how good it would feel to have another one-on-one like that time at The Dragon Den.

Focus.

I caught Zayn smirking at my ogling. I’d been doing that a lot lately.

“Let’s begin with a warm-up before diving into the training. It’s important to avoid straining your muscles,” Zayn advised, demonstrating the correct stretching techniques. He then guided me through the tactics we’d discussed in our previous training sessions.

For the next couple of hours, we reviewed the things I should improve and practiced counteracting attacks when they came from different angles.

I was lying on my back, staring at the ceiling, as I attempted to slow my breathing and relax. He’d been exceptionally quiet during our training. He wasn’t very talkative, but his silence felt different this time.

“Where’s your mind at? You’re very quiet today.”

“It’s nothing.” He sighed.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

He stayed pensive for a few seconds before speaking.

“It’s this time of the year. It always makes me moody.”

“Is it because you miss your father?”

He nodded. It was an obvious question. The night we met, he told me about his father’s passing.

“I get it. It’s my first Christmas without my parents. It’s weird, especially spending the holidays in this house. Did you know I used to spend every Christmas Day with the Scotts until I was twelve?”

“What was it like?”

I bit my bottom lip, and my eyes dropped to the floor.

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