Page 6 of A Kiss For The Holidays

Squinting my eyes against the glare of the bright white snow, I survey the area around us - our home for the next ten days. The villa is huge - it has seven bedrooms, four bathrooms, two living rooms and a games room - and it stands on a hill surrounded by tall trees and nothing else. It’s a stunning wooden structure that looks like it belongs perfectly in this wild, open clearing. The trees that line the property are dense and snow topped making it impossible to see through them but, I know from the map we were given when checking in, that there are another two similar villas further along. It’s secluded and quiet, not far from the ski lifts and there’s a small convenience store halfway back down the hill. All in all, it’s the perfect place to spend Christmas, like something out of a daytime television movie.

The air is chilly and the sky is grey, covered in a layer of cloud hiding the sun. Small, almost imperceptible flurries of snow sweep around me and I stick out my tongue to try and catch a flake, grinning to myself when one lands in my mouth, disappearing as quickly as it settles. I’m alone outside having gotten lost in my thoughts while walking the tree line, taking in the snowy terrain while everyone else went inside to escape the cold and pick their rooms - I’m not fussed which room I get but, ideally I’d like to be next door to Asher. When we were younger, we shared a room - usually bunks, sometimes a double bed but as we got older our parents started getting us our own rooms, our own space. Though, I've never needed space from Asher.

Thinking of my best friend makes my stomach clench uncomfortably. He’s beencold all day - and not cold like I’m feeling right now standing outside without a coat or gloves - but cold like he doesn’t want to be around me. It’s disconcerting and I don’t like it. While he hasn’t openly said something is wrong, I don’tfeellike everything is right - when things are rocky between Asher and me, my world is off centre like it has tilted a little and can’t right itself.

Mum pokes her head out the door, calling me to come inside or put on a coat - I may be twenty-one but I'm still her baby.

I dust all thoughts of this uneasy feeling off like the falling snow that’s settled on my shoulders and go in to join everyone else. Inside, the villa is just as impressive as the outside - all bare wood and natural furnishings, with plush rugs and a large fireplace in the open plan sitting area, just off to the side of the entrance. There's a huge Christmas tree - probably nine feet tall - covered in red, blue and gold ornaments - standing in one corner and I can see that someone has already turned on the fairy lights. The house smells welcoming - nutmeg, burning wood and cinnamon - and I take a moment to enjoy the way the scent brings back so many happy memories of Christmases spent together with my family and Asher’s.

Mum and Dad are in the kitchen, unpacking the groceries we picked up on our way up the hill and I can hear my sister and Clem stomping loudly somewhere upstairs. My eyes search out Asher - the same way they always do - but I don’t see him and unease settles in my gut again as I head towards the stairs.

“Hey Dalton, Asher put your bag in your room, first door on the right once you get up the stairs,” Dad says as he lines up some mugs on the counter. I nod, grabbing our two bigger bags and lugging them up the stairs. I’m disappointed to find that the room next to mine is my parents’ and the one opposite is my sister and Clem.

The room is a nice size, with a double bed, chest of drawers, and the same woodsy decor and natural furnishings as the rest of the house. Once I’m settled, my bags pushed into one corner and my phone set to charge next to the bed, I walk down the hallway until I find Asher in his room, even more disappointed to find that he’s taken the room at the far end of the hallway, as far from me as is possible.

“Knock, knock.” I tap lightly on the open door and Asher looks up from where he’s sitting on his bed with his back to the wall, a book about Austrian wildlife on his lap. He looks comfy in his grey sweats and blue jumper, with his wavy brown hair flopping untamed into his face. “I have your bag.” I gesture to his large suitcase then wheel it further into the room.

“Thanks,” he says, then looks down at his book again and I stand awkwardly, shuffling on my feet and waiting for… something. When he doesn’t acknowledge me, I moveinto his room and flop down on the bed next to him, twisting my body so that my head is on his lap and my feet are dangling over the side of the bed. He pulls the book out from under my head and when he looks down at me, his lips are twisted into a small smirk.

There he is.

Lifting a hand, I rub it through his curly dark hair while relaxing more into his lap. “Why are you ignoring me?” My voice is quiet and my pulse races while I wait for his reply. I’ve never felt this disconnected from him before and I don’t know why I’m feeling it now.

Asher's eyes widen briefly before he schools his features, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. I trace a finger down his forehead and over his nose then drop my hand onto my chest.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’ve been together all day, and all of yesterday. I’m not ignoring you. I’m tired after travelling so that’s why I’m a little quiet.” I mull his words over and wonder if I’m overreacting, if this distance I’m feeling is because we’re both a little worn out from the last few days. We have been travelling for most of today and we had a late night last night. Asher has also never been great with large amounts of socialising, so it makes sense that he’d be a little withdrawn after hours in a busy airport and on a packed plane.

Releasing a breath, I look more closely at his eyes. They’re green like the trees near the woods I first met him in - my favourite shade of green - Asher green. They’re not sparkling like they so often do, he does look tired.

But still, that doesn’t explain why he didn’t hold my hand on the flight - he always does because he’s afraid of takeoff. He’s not afraid of flying - I’ve heard him tell me this hundreds of times before - but he doesn’t understand how something so large gets in the air so seamlessly. Despite reading countless books on aircraft and the dynamics of flying, this is still a phenomenon that Asher’s highly intelligent brain cannot fathom. Only this time, when I reached for his pinky as we taxied down the runway, he pulled his hand away and squeezed it between his thighs, then turned his back to me. I want to ask him why, but I don’t get the chance because as I open my mouth to do so, my mum appears in the doorway.

“I have a surprise for you boys, you need to come downstairs.” Mum looks at Asher and then down to me resting with my head on his lap. Everyone in our families are used to our closeness so no one is surprised to find us like this, or to find me draped over Asher on the sofa or holding his hand. He once likened me to a labrador puppy that mistakes itself for a teeny lapdog, which had made me laugh but I couldn’t argue thatit wasn’t true. I like being close to Asher, I like holding him and touching him - he’s my best friend, he’s my constant and being with him is comforting. I can’t imagine not being close to him.

Sitting up, I shake the hair that’s fallen over my eyes and swing my legs off the bed then grab Asher’s hand and pull him up to stand with me. “What’s this surprise?” I ask my mum as I take Asher’s little finger with mine, looking at him intently to see if he’ll pull away but when he doesn’t the tension in my body lessens. We’re just tired - he’s fine,we’refine.

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, now come on, I’m going to grab your sisters too.” Mum leaves us to find the girls and Asher and I go to follow. When he stops to look out the window, I pause next to him, standing shoulder to shoulder gazing out at the expansive terrain below us.

“I love the snow, we don’t get enough of it back home,” Asher says, and I turn my upper body towards him, taking in the wonder in his eyes and the way his lips gleam like he’s been licking them. He looks beautiful in this light - with the reflection of the snow enhancing his already pale complexion. I’ve always thought he’s beautiful - maybe that’s not something best friends, bestguyfriends, usually think about each other but that makes it no less true.

“The clouds are so thick, like a blanket. They almost look close enough to touch,” I say, looking up at the darkening sky.

“Nimbostratus clouds,” he says and when I don’t respond he carries on, “That’s what they’re scientifically called. They bring precipitation, so it wouldn’t surprise me if we woke up to a few more feet of fresh snow tomorrow.”

I reach for my phone to check the weather forecast, remembering that there was a prediction of heavy snowfall later this week which could affect visibility on the slopes, but I’ve left it in my room so I make a mental note to check the ski resort updates later.

“Boys!” Mum shouts from outside the room and I can hear Clem and Cordelia chattering away with her. “Your surprise awaits!”

“Come on my cloud boy, let’s see what this big surprise is that has mum so excited.”

Chapter 6

Asher

“Well, if it isn’t Laney and Suzie Q!” Dalton beams as he reaches the bottom of the stairs, then tugs a beautiful blonde girl into his arms, squeezing her tightly. She shrieks, pushing against him playfully until he releases her, both of their features brimming with happiness.

Lane and Suzie York lived next door to Dalton until he moved to Broadstream Downs and they’ve joined us on a few of our annual trips over the years, though it’s been two years since we’ve last seen them. When their father got a job offer in Australia, despite being old enough to stay in the UK, they went with and from what I’ve seen on social media, they’ve been loving it over there. Suzie's blonde hair is streaked with highlights, and her skin is sun-kissed and golden. She's as stunning as always.

“Surprise!” Dalton’s mum shouts from behind us before the entry hall is suddenly filled with chatter – all the adults catching up, bags being brought in and Dalton speaking animatedly to Lane and Suzie. All the while, I stand and watch, a knot forming in my throat at the prospect of spending two weeks with Suzie. Or more specifically, Dalton and Suzie.

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