Page 45 of Celebrating the Season

A tear escaped despite my best efforts. I knew, deep in my bones, that I’d never feel this way about anyone else. Ellery had ruined me for other men. How could anyone else compare to his quiet strength, his gentle dominance, the way he made me feel both protected and desired?

As the plane climbed higher, leaving Forestville and Ellery far behind, I realized that a part of me would always belong to that small town in Washington. To the cabin in the woods. To the man who had shown me what it felt like to be truly seen and accepted, ADHD and all.

No matter where I went or who I met, a piece of my heart would forever remain in Forestville, with the gray-bearded silver fox who had captured it so completely.

15

ELLERY

Ijolted awake, my hand instinctively reaching for the warm body that should have been beside me. The sheets were cold and wrinkled from my restless night. It had been three days since he’d left, but Boaz’s scent still clung to the pillow, a cruel reminder of what I’d lost. My chest ached as I stared at the empty space, remembering how he’d looked curled up there mere days ago, dark curls splayed across the white linen.

The cabin felt too quiet without Boaz’s constant chatter. I’d gotten used to waking up to his voice, rambling about some new art idea or recounting a weird dream. Now, there was nothing but the faint crackle of the dying fire and the hollow echo of my breathing.

I forced myself out of bed, going through the motions of my morning routine. Coffee first—black and strong enough to put hair on your chest, as my old man used to say. As I waited for it to brew, my gaze landed on the kitchen counter where Boaz had perched last week, swinging his legs as he watched me cook breakfast.

“You know, for such a big, tough guy, you make a mean omelet,” he’d said with that impish grin of his. “Maybe I’ll keep you around for the food.”

The memory hit me like a sucker punch. I gripped the edge of the counter, willing the ache in my chest to subside. This was for the best, wasn’t it? Boaz deserved someone younger, someone who could keep up with his endless energy. Someone who wouldn’t hold him back from the life he should be living.

So why did it feel like I’d ripped out a piece of myself and sent it packing back to LA?

I grabbed my coffee and settled in my armchair. Without thinking, I reached for a chunk of pine and my carving knife. As I worked, memories of Boaz flooded my mind—the way his eyes lit up when he talked about his art, how he’d bounce from topic to topic mid-sentence, and his infectious laugh that could brighten even my darkest moods.

“Christ, kid,” I muttered, realizing what I’d carved. “Can’t even get you out of my head long enough to work.”

I set down the small wooden squirrel, joining the growing collection on my shelf. Each one felt like a tally mark, counting the days since I’d let him walk away.

As I paced the length of the cabin, every corner held another memory. Boaz sprawled on the couch, his iPad balanced on his knees. His laughter echoing from the shower. The way he’d looked spread out on my bed, flushed and wanting, begging me to touch him. How beautifully he’d responded to that spanking.

God, I missed him. Missed his endless chatter, his boundless enthusiasm. The way he’d light up a room just by walking into it. How he made me feel young again, like anything was possible.

I glanced at the clock, wondering what Boaz was doing right now. Probably working on some new commission, fingers flying across his tablet as he created worlds I could only dream of. Or maybe he was out with friends, laughing and flirting, already moving on. The thought made my stomach churn.

What the hell was I doing?

I couldn’t go on like nothing had happened. Couldn’t pretend Boaz hadn’t completely upended my world. I loved that chaotic, beautiful mess of a man. And I’d let him go. I had decided I knew what was best for him without ever giving him a chance to choose for himself.

I was such a fucking fool.

Within minutes, I’d packed a bag, doused the fire, and turned everything off in my cabin.

My heart raced as I yanked open the truck door and climbed in. I had to find him. Had to make this right. I had no idea where in LA Boaz lived…but I knew who did.

The engine roared to life, and I peeled out of the driveway, tires spinning in the snow. The roads were treacherous, but I barely noticed. My mind was filled with Boaz—his laugh, his smile, the way he looked at me like I hung the moon. How could I have been so stupid?

I pushed the speedometer higher, zooming past snow-laden pines. I had to get to Desmond. The old geezer would have Boaz’s address. The only question was if he was willing to give it to me.

I found him in the community center, like I had expected. He was surprised to see me, greeting me with a big smile. He hadn’t heard then. “What brings you here, Ellery? You finally ready to join our Bingo group?”

“Not really.”

“You should. It’s a lot of?—”

“Boaz’s address in LA,” I cut him off, my voice rough with desperation. “Do you have it? I fucked up. I need to find him.”

Desmond’s face hardened. “What did you do?”

My pride didn’t matter anymore. “I fell for him. That’s what I did. And then I sent him away because I decided I was too old for him, that he needed someone better than me.”

---