Chapter 15

fifteen

SMALL SURPRISES

A ll day I’ve been fighting with myself.

Well, I guess it’s been going on for a lot longer than today. But today was a more specific battle. The entire time in town, I couldn’t drag my mind away from her. Now I’m rushing into the house while the boys are unloading the groceries, all so I can sneak into Emery’s room.

I walk past the bathroom we’re sharing with Colby and hear the two girls talking in there. No doubt getting ready for dinner tonight. It works out perfectly for me as I slip into her room and hesitate when I see it looks like a bomb has gone off in here.

Emery is generally a pretty neat person. Any messes she has are usually contained to only one or two spots in her room, like the chair that seems to accumulate all her stuff. But this is chaos, wrapping paper and ribbons covering almost every inch of the floor. It makes me smile as I step carefully through the mess to get to her bed.

I had no idea if I was really going to give her this. I bought it weeks ago because as soon as it caught the sunlight and sparkled, it made me stop in my tracks, so much like the girl it instantly reminded me of. The delicate gold sun with a diamond at the center hangs on a thin golden chain. Small and simple and yet shines so brilliantly. There’s no way I would be able to give it to her face to face and not let my feelings for her tumble through all the guard rails I’ve been painstakingly building around them.

But I couldn’t not give it to her either.

I lay the box against her pillow, knowing she’ll see it as soon as she makes it through the mess on the floor. Nerves build in my stomach. I really hope she likes it.

Making my back out of her room and towards mine, I stop at the bathroom and can still hear the two girls talking and giggling. I knock on the door and it only takes a second before Emery opens the door, her makeup halfway done and her hair pulled up in a messy bun with a giant fluffy headband on top of her head.

“Cute,” I say, not able to hold back the compliment.

She starts to say something but her eyes drop to the ice cream in my hand, lighting up with joy and surprise. “For me?” she asks.

I hand her two spoons with a grin. “Don’t ruin your dinner,” I warn. We’re leaving in a little bit, but how could I walk past her favorite ice cream place and not bring her anything back? Zac and Tate told me I was just kissing ass now, and maybe I am. But I can’t bring myself to care.

Someone has to be nice to her when all they do is give her a hard time.

“Thanks, Xander,” she says, a light blush coating her cheeks and fuck that never gets old.

I wink at her. “Anything for you, brat.” That’s probably a little too honest for friends. I nod at Colby who’s in a similar state as Emery. “Enjoy, you two.”

I turn my back on them before I say anything else to get myself into trouble. Grabbing a clean towel from the hall closet, I head to the other side of the house where Tate, Zac, and Wilder have their rooms. There’s no way the girls will be done in time for me to take a shower in there. Might as well steal Tate’s. At least he has his own.

Now that I think about it, he’s an asshole for not letting the girls have this room. I don’t bother finding him to let him know I’m borrowing his bathroom. He’ll argue that he should go first, but no way am I going last and having no hot water left. I’ve been on enough vacations here to know there is, in fact, a limited amount of hot water.

Halfway through my shower, Tate bursts into the bathroom just to call me a dick. I poke my head from out of the shower curtain and wink at him. “Want to join me?”

He flips me off, calling me a dick again. “Hurry up, will you?”

I wave him off. I’m almost done anyways. It’s only a couple of minutes later that I’m shutting off the water and wrapping my towel around my waist.

“Why my shower?” he gripes as soon as I open the door.

I scoff, “You think I’m stupid enough to use the boys’ after they dumped seaweed on Emery?”

He can’t argue that. “Okay, but why not yours?”

I roll my eyes, grabbing my clothes and heading to the door. “The girls are in there.”

“Are you walking out like that?” Tate asks amused, pointing at my towel and bare chest.

I shrug, it’s not like I’m going to put back on my dirty clothes. “Didn’t grab my clothes,” I say in explanation and head out before he can lecture me about anything else. He should really be more worried about getting into the shower before the hot water is gone.

Not my problem though .

The bathroom door opens as I walk past it and Emery exits in a rush, walking right into me. I catch her by the shoulders and her hands land on my bare chest, steadying herself. She looks up, her round eyes even wider than normal as she takes in my state of dress and water dripping from my hair.

“Hi,” she squeaks.

My lips twitch. “Hi,” I repeat, tracking the way she eats me up with her gaze.

It takes her a moment before she realizes she’s staring at me again and jumps, righting herself and pulling away from me. I instantly miss her touch. Her whole face burns red as she looks me up and down. “You’re naked,” she stammers.

I look down where my towel is still wrapped firmly around my waist. Shame.

Wait. No.

Not a shame. A relief.

“I have a towel on,” I defend, desperately trying to keep myself from popping a boner where she would definitely be able to notice it.

“Why are you only wearing a towel in the hallway?” she hisses, her eyes still on the skin just above my towel.

I point to the bathroom door she came out of. “I had to shower in Tate’s room since you guys were using ours.”

“Right,” she drawls with a wince. “Sorry.”

“Hey, Emery?”

“Yeah?”

It’s impossible not to smirk watching how flustered she is. Does she even realize how hard she makes it to be a good guy? Because the way she can’t take her eyes off of me is making me want to be a lot of things and unfortunately her friend is not on that list. Neither is being a good man.

“My eyes are up here,” I call her out, loving the way her eyes flash up to mine with her embarrassment written so plainly in her heated skin. I stop and really take her in. Her long blonde hair perfectly straightened, falling in sheets to frame her face. Her makeup is darker than usual but makes her look older and more elegant with the thick black liner that makes her blue eyes pop. “You look beautiful,” I murmur, cupping her cheek in my hand and feeling her warmth.

The bathroom door opens once more and we both startle, jumping apart and I turn my back on her quickly, finding the door to my room and quickly disappearing behind it.

Fuck.

How can one girl cause such havoc on my resolve with barely a look?

I rip the towel from my waist, drying my hair and chest and ignoring the way I’m half hard after the brief interaction with Emery. It never takes but a moment for her to have my dick’s full attention.

Groaning in disgust at myself, I fall onto my bed, something small and hard under my shoulder. I grab it and find a small brown box with a familiar red ribbon tied around it. I saw this ribbon in Emery’s room earlier.

Is it stupid to admit I hold my breath as I stare at the small present and hope she’s the one who left it for me the same way I left her a private gift as soon as I got home?

Who else would leave it for me?

The Moores always exchange presents on Christmas Eve after a dinner out at a fancy restaurant. We all change into our pajamas and make smores and watch each other open their gifts. Christmas morning is always reserved for Santa. No one else would have a reason to give me something they didn’t want me to open in front of everyone tonight.

At least I can’t think of a reason why anyone would.

Here goes nothing.

I untie the ribbon, placing it gently on the bedside table and open the box. Inside is a handwritten note and I’d recognize the loopy writing of Emery’s anywhere.

Merry Christmas Xander

This bracelet is supposed to bring luck in new beginnings for the person who wears it. I hope it helps make your new journey at Westbrook all the more amazing, but I already know you’re going to kill it. The Wolves don’t know how lucky they are to have you on their side. But they will.

Xoxo,

Emery aka your favorite brat

The bracelet inside is a black bracelet with what looks like thick threads braided together into a band before it ends at loose strings to tighten around my wrist. I’ve never been a jewelry guy, but it’s so simple and won’t get in my way.

I slip it onto my wrist and tighten it. It fits perfectly. My cheeks ache with the stretch of my smile as I stare down at it and I know right then and there I’ll wear it every day for the rest of my life.

Will she feel the same way about the gift I left her?

Will it make her laugh how similar we think? Or will she blush where I can’t see it? Will she wear the necklace to dinner tonight? Does it feel as special to her as this bracelet does to me?

Nerves race down my spine as a million questions rush through my mind about the way the rest of the night will go. It doesn't change anything, and yet it feels like it could.

The two parts of myself war within me, wanting things to change and knowing that I can’t.

I’ve spent nearly every holiday with the Moores for the last fifteen years. It’s not just Emery I’d be at risk of losing if I made a move. It would be the entire family. My family.

I pull on my slacks, knowing it’s nearly time to leave and the one nice button down I have, but skip the tie and jacket. Tate and his dad will probably wear one, but I know Zac and Wilder can’t stand them. Probably should be offended to be on the same side as the two idiots, but for once, I can’t blame them.

Colby and Emery are walking out of her room as I walk out of mine. Both of them are in modest dresses, Colby’s a dark green that makes her hair and eyes look brighter and Emery’s a dark burgundy that matches her lipstick.

“Look at you two,” I greet. “Clean up pretty nice for a couple of sea urchins.”

A confused expression passes Colby’s face as she looks down at her outfit.

“It’s a joke about the seaweed,” Emery explains to her before sticking her tongue out in my direction. Of course she’d get my sense of humor. “We haven’t gotten our revenge yet, which means we can still add you to it.”

We, huh? It’s interesting to see the way the two are getting closer over the last couple of months.

“I meant you both look beautiful,” I amend.

“That’s what I thought you said,” she taunts back and my eyes trail down to her neck where the little golden sun now hangs. There’d be no suppressing the smile that spreads across my face, even if I wanted to.

She grins back at me, touching the charm resting against her skin.

I offer both of them my arms, escorting them to the living room where everyone else is waiting for us. As I thought, Tate and his dad are wearing suits, but Zac and Wilder are dressed similar to myself.

“We’ll take two cars?” Mr. Moore says. “The girls can come with me and Tate will drive you shitheads.” He looks at the girls before clearing his throat. “I mean knuckleheads.”

Emery snorts. “I’ve called them worse.”

Colby elbows her but Zac scoffs, “No, you haven’t.”

Wilder nods his agreement and I cover my mouth with my hand so she can’t yell at me for smiling when they’re ganging up on her again. “You barely say the word shit, let alone anything worse.”

She can’t argue, so she shrugs. “Then I’ve definitely heard worse. Anyway, see you guys there.” She sticks her tongue out at both of them, grabbing Colby’s hand as she follows her dad to his car. It takes a second for the two of them to realize that means they aren’t riding with Colby, but by the time they protest, the girls are already in the car and Emery flips them off.

Tate and I chuckle, patting them on the back. “Gotta stay on your toes with her,” Tate says.

“And Dad apparently,” Zac gripes. “He takes the little best friend stealer’s side.”

I don’t know about that. “He does whatever is going to entertain him the most.” Exactly like all three of his children. Well, Tate isn’t as bad about it. He takes more after their mom than anyone and sometimes seems even more mature than their dad.

“Your fault she was able to steal your best friend so easily,” Tate taunts the younger guys and what was I just thinking about being mature? Never mind then.

Zac flips him off, opening the back door. “I hope she steals Xander next.”

Woah. “Don’t bring me into this,” I warn. Please don’t. Because Emery has already stolen a lot of me. I’d never intentionally turn my back on Tate. Never be able to choose between the two of them without feeling like I lost a vital organ, but every little bit I fall for Emery more does feel like a betrayal to Tate. And I can’t deny that.

Thankfully, Tate blows him off and the guys cool off in the car ride over. Dinner is as nice as it always is and for the most part, everyone seems to be on their best behavior. I didn’t mean to sit next to Emery, but it worked out that she sat between me and Tate. Any other time, I’m sure Zac would have made a joke about it already starting, Emery stealing me away. But Christmas dinner is the only time the Moore siblings call an unofficial truce.

As everyone talks around us, I bump my knee against Emery’s, drawing her attention to where my sleeve is lifted high enough to show off the bracelet she gave me. Her eyes drop to her plate as she tries to stifle her grin from everyone else to avoid having to explain herself.

I let my sleeve cover it back up, but she knocks her knee back against mine. Another moment I’ve stolen for just the two of us that I never had any right to hoard for myself. No matter how many pep talks I give myself though, I always seem to slide right back down to toeing the line.

The rest of dinner goes by too fast. Even Colby relaxing and talking about herself more freely than usual. I learn more about her in this one dinner than I have in the last couple months of hanging out with her. Mr. Moore has a way of drawing people out of their shells though. Must be where Emery gets it from.

When we get back to the house, I make sure to sit on the opposite side of the room from Emery to avoid making any more mistakes tonight. We’re no longer at dinner and I know Zac is locked and loaded with comments about Emery stealing me.

After we’re all in our pajamas and the Christmas movie is playing in the background–Colby’s pick this year–Mr. Moore starts handing out presents to everyone. We all made sure they were under the tree earlier before we left.

Each of us now has a small pile of gifts, but Emery’s seems to be the biggest. Not a surprise when Zac and Tate spoil her as much as they antagonize her, but barely spare the other a second thought.

Emery clears her throat and Colby gives her a look of encouragement. “Everyone should open their gift from me at the same time,” she says and I can’t figure out why she’s embarrassed.

Her dad nods. “Should we open those first?” he asks, a teasing lilt in his voice as he watches his daughter.

“You don’t have to,” she stammers, fidgeting with the sleeves of her pajamas.

“I’ve got mine,” Tate says, lifting up two presents from his pile with the same ribbon that was tied around the box left on my bed. Everyone else sifts through their piles and finds their own gifts, Colby and Wilder are both surprised to find their own gifts wrapped, but Emery waves them off.

It dawns on me that I’ve been watching everyone else and now Emery is staring at me expectantly. Right. I didn’t think she’d get me anything else. My thumb brushes over the bracelet as I look through the gifts at my side, spotting the ones from her quickly. I lift them in my hand and she scrunches her nose as her dad tells us we can open them.

I open the small gift first, not paying attention to what everyone else is opening around me. The Westbrook beanie falls from the wrapping paper and I grin, knowing exactly why she got it for me. Another welcome gift .

I look up when I notice how quiet it is and find everyone staring at their own gifts with their mouths collectively hanging open. Emery is fidgeting even more if possible. I rush to open my second present. There’s no way they all got beanies that made them shut up for once.

The second present makes my jaw join the others, hovering near the vicinity of my feet. Each page of the photo book she’s gifted me, is more shocking than the next. I stop at a page with a close up headshot of me and I know exactly when this was taken. The moment I knew without a doubt I would never be able to bury my feelings for the girl behind the camera. She caught every warring emotion in that one shot.

There are more photos, me cheering for the Wolves, some shots of Tate and I practicing, and some empty pages. I look up to find everyone flipping through their own books. Her dad has tears in his eyes as he flips through his book.

“Emery,” he says, his voice nearly breaking with emotion. “These are–” he stops, clearing his throat as he wipes a tear from his eyes. “There are no words for how amazing these are, sweetheart. Your mom would be so proud.”

Emotion clogs my own throat, and Emery sniffles and Tate pulls her into his arms, kissing her forehead. Their mom would be so incredibly moved by her daughter’s talent. Proud doesn’t seem to cover the emotions in the room.

The photo books get passed around as we all look at each others. Wilder’s, Zac’s, and Tate’s are all heavily hockey based, but there are other photos from family events, and small moments of them laughing together, shots with the whole team. She’s captured their love of the sport and love for each other so easily.

Her dad’s book is easily the most emotional, as she included photos of all of us growing up together, photos of her mom, and pictures from their wedding, telling the family’s story of love, loss, grief, and survival all the way to this point today.

Zac and Wilder break the emotional atmosphere when they get my book and can’t help but tease me when they see the headshot Emery captured. “Forget hockey,” Zac says, “I think you’ve got a career in modeling.” It would almost be nice if he wasn’t barely suppressing his laughter.

Wilder doesn’t even try to hold back his own. “That’s a blue steel look if I’ve ever seen one.”

“Assholes,” I mutter, grabbing Wilder’s book to flip through only to stop on a photo of him tossing his hair back like he’s in a shampoo commercial. “You know what they say about glasshouses,” I counter with a smirk, showing that photo to the room, making everyone laugh when Wilder flips me off.

“If anyone should be a model, it’s Colby,” Mr. Moore says genuinely, as he looks at the photos Emery put together of her friend. “Not any of you shitheads.”

Zac and Wilder fight to grab her book and Mr. Moore rolls his eyes as he hands it over to them. They settle it between them, pointing out their favorite photos as Colby looks like she may be in danger of becoming one with the couch the way she’s leaning back into it.

Emery, on the other hand, seems to have gotten over her own embarrassment at sharing her work and is leaning over the pair of them pointing out her own favorite shots.

It takes a little while for everyone to get their fill of her photos and set the books aside to continue opening presents. Nothing as exciting as Emery’s gifts. Though I had a good time when Emery opened her gift from me to find my new Westbrook jersey. She looked up at me with shock and I winked at her, hoping she was remembering she agreed to wear my name across her back .

I had to pull some strings with Coach to get them early, but I also gave one to her dad and to Colby just to piss off Zac and Wilder. Mission accomplished on that front. Wilder actually tried to steal it from her, and Emery smacked him in the forehead.

“Just for that, I’m wearing it to the next game,” Colby promises, making both boys apologize to her. For such a soft-spoken person, she sure does have those idiots wrapped around her little finger.

As always, Tate and Zac’s gifts to each other were meant to antagonize one another and we finally make it through all our presents while the two of them bicker.

“There’s one more present for tonight,” Mr. Moore announces, getting up from his chair and heading out of the room. I exchange looks with Tate, but he only shrugs. Their dad never gives them their presents from him on Christmas Eve.

He comes back only a moment later, a box carefully being carried in his arms. He puts it in front of Emery and she gives him a confused look, before opening the top of the box. Her mouth parts open as she gasps at whatever she sees, her eyes flying back up to her dad in silent question.

He’s already nodding, tears in his eyes. “Look at the front.”

She pulls up a white envelope and opens it, her hands shaking. The rest of us stare at the pair, still trying to figure out what’s in the box. Her dad grabs the box off her lap and puts it down on the coffee table as she pulls something out of the envelope, her eyes scanning over what looks like a letter. It’s a good thing he did too, because she’s completely forgotten about it as she jumps off the couch and throws herself in her dad’s waiting arms as she bursts into tears.

He holds her closely, kissing the top of her head, and whispering how proud he is of her and how much he wishes her mom was able to see the woman she’s growing into. Tate loses his patience, but I have a feeling we all know what that letter contains and I can’t hold back my own grin. He peers into the box and jumps up to wrap his sister in his arms as well.

I get up to take my own look, confirming my suspicions. It’s a cake with the Westbrook wolf logo on it. She got the early admission.

That’s my girl.