Page 79 of Wicked Serve

“I’m not sure that’s the flex you think it is,” James says dryly. “Are those the cookies you made?”

I smile, sitting up straighter. “All by myself.”

“Let’s hope we don’t get food poisoning, then,” he says, eyeing them suspiciously.

I kick his leg. I’m not wearing shoes, so it’s not that effective, but still. I’m capable of handling a simple sugar cookie recipe. Kiwi begs for a cookie with his adorable brown eyes, but I just pat his head.

“Penelope did that as well,” Larry says, giving us an amused look. “Kid had a set of lungs on her.”

“Something about daughters, perhaps,” Dad says, clapping his hand on James’s shoulder. “You’re doing a great job so far, son.”

James groans, tipping his head back, but he’s smiling. Despite the stress of having a new baby this late in the season, he’s been ridiculously happy. Charlie came a few weeks ago, after a fortunate midweek labor that allowed him to be at Bex’s side the whole time without compromising football. No one would have minded if they chose to have Christmas by themselves in Philadelphia, but they didn’t want Charlie to miss even one holiday with her grandparents and newly minted uncles and aunt.

“How is Nikolai doing?” Larry asks me.

I snag a cookie, thinking about how to answer. He’s worried about the rift between him and Cooper, and I don’t blame him. The hockey season has been on pause for the holidays, but that’s only going to last so long. Soon, they’ll be back on the ice together, and if they’re at each other’s throat, that won’t keep their winning record going.

I have no idea what happened after they left the hospital. Later, I explained everything to Cooper, and apologized for keeping it secret for so long, but still, he didn’t budge on telling me about the argument they had. Nik’s been just as tight-lipped about it.

Both of them are being idiots. It’s not like I can talk, but still.

“Fine,” I say eventually. “He’s in Manhattan with his family.”

“They do need to hash this out,” Dad says. He drums his fingers on the arm of the couch. “They both care about you, darling.”

I make a face as I bite into the cookie. Not because of the cookie, although it definitely doesn’t come close to Sebastian’s. Cooper and Nik were on the way to becoming good friends before everything happened, and I hate the thought of them losing that forever. Especially if it’s because of me and my own stupidity.

“You’re sure he doesn’t want to come to Long Island?” James says. “Even for a little while?”

“He’s busy.”

“Busy, or avoiding Cooper?”

I stuff another cookie into my mouth. “I told Cooper I wanted them to make up for Christmas.”

“And what did he say?”

“He told me to talk to my boyfriend.”

“Why don’t you call him? Maybe he’ll want to come after all.”

I doubt it, but I guess it’s worth a shot. Christmas Eve is my favorite night of the year because of my family’s traditions, yet if Nik had invited me to the city, I’d have said yes.

I slip into Dad’s office to make the call. There aren’t many hallmarks of the holiday in here; just a garland around his desk, courtesy of me, and a little ceramic tree next to the computer, courtesy of Mom. I perch on the edge of the couch, looking at the awards, the framed newspapers, the case with his three Super Bowl rings.

I’m fully aware of the differences between hockey and football—when Cooper was younger, he wanted nothing more than to rub them in Dad’s face—but still, I know in my bones that one day Nik and my brother will hold up the Stanley Cup. I doubt it’ll happen on the same team, but it’ll happen for them both somehow.

And I want them to be supportive of each other when it happens.

It felt so necessary to lie, not just to myself but to everyone around me. Now that the burden doesn’t exist anymore, I see how heavily it was weighing on me. There’s still so much to talk about, not least Nik’s panic attacks, but at least this massive secret isn’t lingering. I can call him without pretending he’s someone else.

I smile as soon as I hear his voice. “Hey. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” I wonder if he needed to step away from the party to answer my call, or if he was already alone. I don’t hear background noise, so I’m guessing the latter. “I’ve never gotten used to celebrating it so early.”

“Oh, right. Russian Orthodox Christmas is different.”

“Yeah. And the new year is a bigger deal anyway.”

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