Page 25 of Accidentally Fudging the Beast
He makes his own plate, then sits beside me, so close our knees touch. He doesn't even hesitate to drape an arm around my shoulder, like he wants me as close as he can get me.
"You okay?" he asks, his voice a little concerned when I don't say anything.
"Yeah." I nod, trying to get myself together. "Just…haven't had a real breakfast with anyone since I had roommates in college."
He hums like he understands, digging into his food. He eats like a man who's used to devouring entire cows, but he still manages to make it look hot.
I pick at my eggs, not sure what to say.
Luckily, he does it for me.
"You got any family aside from your mom?" he asks.
I blink, not expecting the question. "Foster brothers," I say. "But no biological family. At least, none that I know of."
He nods, like he already knew. Maybe he did. "How many foster brothers do you have?"
"Four." I smile, scooping up a bite of egg. "All older, all idiots. Two are stationed overseas right now. The other two scattered as soon as they turned eighteen." My smile slips at the reminder. "We've always tried to stay close, but I haven't seen any of them in about a year."
He absorbs this in silence. "You ever see your mom?"
The question lands with a thud.
"No," I whisper. "She tried a few times after I aged out, but it was usually when she wanted something. Eventually, I just stopped answering."
He doesn't apologize for her or offer pity. He just squeezes my knee and accepts what I've said, as if it's another piece of me, and then moves on.
"Any Christmas traditions?" he asks, spearing aforkful of eggs.
I laugh, shaking my head. "Not unless you count avoiding family court."
He grins, which makes me grin, and for a second, it's not awkward at all.
"What about you?" I ask. "Any family traditions?"
He shrugs, but his eyes go soft. "My mom bakes like it's her job. She doesn't use honey, obviously." The way his lips curl at the corners is all little-boy mischief. "We watch football with my dad, and then my brother always tries to beat me at hockey on Xbox. He always fails. We eat too much, watch Die Hard, and end up passed out in the living room."
I picture Trent and his brother stuffing their faces and arguing over video games while their mom bakes in the background. It's a stupid, cheesy, perfect image, and I want to live in it for just one day.
I've never really had that. Our foster parents tried most years, but there were no traditions. It always felt a little like they were just checking off items on a list of things they were required to do for us. Once I aged out, I mostly stopped celebrating. Christmas just doesn't feel magical when you spend it alone most years.
My brothers aren't big on Christmas but they always call anyway. Sometimes, I wish they wouldn't. It just reminds me of how utterly alone I am on the one day of the year when no one should be alone.
Trent must see the look on my face, because he tilts his head. "You should come with me tomorrow."
I almost choke on my coffee. "Excuse me?"
He repeats himself. "You should come with me for Christmas. My parents will love you. Noah will probably try to steal you until I threaten to murder him with his own service weapon. It'll be great."
I try to laugh, but the sound gets stuck in my throat. "You're not serious."
"Why not?" His gaze flits across my face. "I don't want you spending the holiday alone, Sunshine."
"I'm not alone," I say, but my voice cracks halfway through, betraying me. "I have…Netflix. And Chinese takeout."
He frowns, not buying it. "No, Dani. That's not good enough for you. You're coming over for a real Christmas."
I shake my head, trying to pull away, but he just locks his arm tighter around my shoulder. "No way. I'd be in the way. Your family doesn't even know me."
