Page 15 of In Too Deep

“I think it’s charming,” Tori says, sliding up beside me and threading her fingers through mine. Turning my head, I kiss her hairline, smiling a little wider. God, she smells amazing, the warm undertones coming out with her delight.

“So, how do we want to do this?” Oli asks, exhaling slightly as he sits in one of the armchairs nearby.

“For my family, we would go around the room and, starting with the youngest person and going up, each opened one present at a time until their pile ran out,” Tori suggests, squeezing my hand before letting go to claim the cozy spot in the bend of the sectional.

I laugh out loud, trying to imagine how long that method would take in my family. With my siblings’ partners and children included, we would probably still be opening gifts when the sun rose on Christmas Day.

“One of my dads would playJultomten, or Santa Claus, and would pass out gifts from the top of the pile downwards. And we would usually have the wrapping paper shredded by the time the next person got their gift. There are too many people to make a show of opening every gift with an audience,” I explain when Tori gives me a questioning look.

We eventually agree to pass out the gifts and each person will open all their presents before we move on to the next. Taking on the role ofTomten, I make sure everyone has their packages before settling on the end of the couch down from Tori, with Spencer on the other arm of the L-shaped piece. Everything for me is relatively small, though the lumpiest one is rather heavy.

There’s a pause as we all look at each other, silently deciding who’s going to go first. Eventually, Spencer sits forward, clearing his throat.

“Let’s not all jump at once,” he jokes, a wide smirk pulling at his handsome face.

“Go on, then. You first.” Tori giggles, motioning to him before taking a sip of her mulled wine.

Spencer gives her a little smirk and picks up the neatly wrapped present from her, not sparing the beautiful paper on his way to the prize. He pulls a lumpy bag from within the box, the text on the back too small for me to make out.

“Is this from—”

“McCally’s, yeah. I had my mom send me some,” Tori says, cutting him off, her face split with a wide grin.

Spencer turns the bag around for Oli and me to see, and I smile as I realize it’s a bag of coffee in his hands.

“This is from the local coffee chain around U of M. I haven’t had coffee that good in years. Thank you,” Spencer explains, his face lit up with a genuine smile.

Tori simply nods, an endearing twinkle in her eyes. Spencer moves on to the bag, tossing the paper aside to find an envelope, which he promptly tears open. His jaw nearly hits his knees as he pulls the long, rectangular pieces of cardstock free.

“Holy shit, dude! How did you get these?” Spencer asks.

A pair of tickets with the iconic colors of New Orleans’ NBA team flash in the dying light. Tori sits forward, brow furrowed slightly. Oli just relaxes back into his seat, propping one of his ankles on his opposite knee.

“I have my ways,” he says simply.

Spencer is still absorbed in his courtside tickets that he misses the subtle wink Oli throws Tori’s way. I shouldn’t be surprised; the depth of her connections never ceases to amaze me. Spencer’s head snaps up and he motions with one hand to Oli.

“Open yours from me,” he says eagerly.

“What about our system?” Tori asks with a little sniff of frustration.

I reach over and give her leg a soothing pat. “Christmas isn’t the time for order, sunshine,” I say, mock seriousness on my face and in my voice.

She rolls her eyes and swats my hand away even as Oli is ripping apart the lumpy gift from our linemate. It’s mostly stuffing, a disguise to hide the simple envelope inside. Oli’s more careful as he opens it than Spencer was with his, and I don’t fault him. We haven’t established what sort of gift-giver Spencer is, and it could be anything from cash to a glitter bomb waitingwithin that paper. But then the shock and delight on my lover’s face ends the debate.

“We listen to them a lot in the car, and I saw they were coming into town,” Spencer explains, a boyish smile still splitting his face.

Oli doesn’t move for a solid minute, and I’m not even sure if he breathes. I lean forward, concern replacing joy. But then Oli is out of his seat and tackling Spencer in a hug. For his part, Spencer doesn’t move very much, just wrapping his arms around Oli’s chest, laughing. But then Oli pulls back, and plants a full kiss right on his lips. Anyone else might have been jealous at the overt display of affection, but it only makes my chest warm to see Oli and Spencer finally giving in to the undercurrent of tension that’s been brewing between them for months. They pull apart relatively quickly, but Oli remains leaning over Spencer, his thumb brushing against the sharp cheekbone of our dark-haired teammate. He whispers something in Spencer’s ear, too low for me to hear over the sound of waves spilling in from the open patio doors, before retreating to his seat.

Spencer clears his throat, ruffling his hair slightly and not looking at us. He reaches for the last parcel at his feet and opens it with the same vigor as the others. But he only gets half the paper off before he cracks up, devolving into deep, full belly laughter. He can’t even speak, but he gestures at me, and it’s clear enough that he wants me to open my gift.

The heavy, lumpy thing in my hands feels familiar, though the mulled wine is making it hard for me to place where I might have encountered this before. A few rips later, and I understand why Spencer is dying laughing. I join him as I pull a bottle of tequila from the paper, holding it up for Tori and Oli to see, and Spencer mirrors me, holding up the exact same bottle of expensive tequila, down to the special holiday-edition label.

We all share a good laugh, and I get up for refills on drinks. If this is how it’s starting, I can’t wait for the rest.

Once I’m seated again, Oli picks up his two remaining gifts and settles them in his lap. “What one shall I open, princess?” he asks Tori, holding them up for her.

“Open Eli’s first, I think. Mine’s sort of weird,” she answers, blowing on the top of the fresh drink to cool it.

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