Page 19 of Celebrating the Season

“Real oatmeal? Not the stuff from a box?”

“Of course it’s the real thing.”

“God, yes,” Boaz said, his eyes lighting up. “I’m starving. But you don’t have to?—”

I waved off his protest. “I want to. Go sit by the fire and warm up. I’ll bring you some milk too.”

As I heated his oatmeal, I was hyperaware of Boaz’s presence. The sound of his occasional yawn, the rustle of fabric as he shifted on the couch all seemed amplified.

“This place is amazing, Ellery,” Boaz said, his voice carrying easily in the open space. “It’s so quiet out here. No traffic, shouting neighbors, or constant buzz of…everything.”

I smiled to myself, a warm feeling spreading through my chest. “That’s why I love it out here. It’s a good place to clear your head.”

I carried a bowl of oatmeal and a glass of milk to the living room, handing Boaz both and settling beside him on the couch. As I watched him take his first bite, his eyes closed in appreciation, a surge of satisfaction floated through me.

“God, this is so good,” Boaz mumbled around a mouthful. He swallowed and continued, words tumbling out rapidly. “You know, I didn’t realize how stressed I was until I got here. It’s like…I can actually hear myself think for once. My brain isn’t constantly buzzing with a million things.”

I nodded, taking a sip of my black coffee. “The quiet has a way of doing that. Slowing things down, putting things in perspective.”

Boaz’s spoon paused midway to his mouth. “Yeah, exactly! It’s like… I don’t feel the need to fill every second with noise or activity. And waking up, I had some amazing ideas for new art. I’ve struggled to find inspiration lately, but it came to me now.” He glanced at me, a hint of sheepishness in his brown eyes. “Sorry, I’m rambling again, aren’t I?”

“Don’t apologize. I like hearing your thoughts.”

A pleased smile spread across Boaz’s face, and I had to look away, hyperaware of how close we were sitting. I could smell the woodsy scent of my soap on his skin, could feel the warmth radiating from his body.

“I wish I could stay here a little longer,” Boaz sighed, then his expression fell. “But I guess I should start packing soon. My reservation at the motel ends today and my flight will leave tomorrow.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I’d known, logically, that Boaz couldn’t stay longer, but hearing him say it made it real. The thought of him leaving, of returning to my solitary existence, left an unexpected ache in my chest. “Why are you heading back already? Do you have plans for Christmas?”

He shook his head, his eyes even more sad. “My dad and Hawk are back in Texas, and I can’t afford to fly in since I’m heading there for their wedding in a few weeks. So I’ll be on my own.”

“Your mom?” I asked hesitantly, uncertain if that was a touchy subject or not.

“She’s working. She’s the manager of a large resort in Miami, and they’re always booked for the holiday season, so she can’t take off.”

Before I could think better of it, words were tumbling out of my mouth. “You could stay here if you want.” I cleared my throat, meeting Boaz’s wide-eyed gaze. “Until after Christmas, I mean. If you’d like. We could celebrate Christmas together.”

The offer hung in the air between us, sincere and warm. My heart pounded as a myriad of emotions flickered across Boaz’s expressive face—surprise, disbelief, and then something that looked a lot like hope.

“Are you serious?” Boaz asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’d really let me stay?”

I nodded, feeling oddly vulnerable. “Yeah, I would. No one should be alone for Christmas, and…” I trailed off, searching for the right words. “It’s nice having you here. Really nice. And you could see Forestville’s Winter Festival, which is tomorrow. It’s supposed to be a lot of family-friendly fun. And we could maybe go snowmobiling if you’d like?”

Boaz’s eyes glistened, and for a moment, I worried I’d overstepped. But then a brilliant smile broke across his face, lighting up the entire room. “Ellery, I… God, I don’t even know what to say.” He ran a hand through his curls, something I’d noticed he did when he was overwhelmed. “Thank you. Seriously, thank you so much.”

The pure gratitude in his voice made something warm unfurl in my chest. I reached out, clasping his shoulder. “It’s not a sacrifice, kid. I love having you here.”

Boaz leaned into my touch, and I felt a jolt of electricity at the contact. Our eyes met, and a reflection of my own growing feelings was mirrored in his gaze. There was a deepening connection between us, and he felt it too.

“I promise I won’t be a bother,” Boaz said. “I can help with chores, cooking, whatever you need. And I’ll try not to talk your ear off too much, though I can’t make any guarantees there because, well, you know how I am, and?—”

I chuckled, squeezing his shoulder. “You’re not a bother. Just be yourself, all right?”

He nodded with a sheepish grin. “Right, sorry. It’s… This means a lot to me. More than you know.”

As I looked at him, flushed with happiness and gratitude, I realized it meant a lot to me too. More than I was ready to admit, even to myself.

I had a whole week with Boaz…and I was determined to enjoy every second of it, even if it would break my heart to see him leave again.

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