So, I grumble, drag the book back out, and half-heartedly join in. But the truth is, somewhere between “Deck the Halls” and “Silent Night,” I’m not thinking about my lack of pitch. I’m thinking about how, in just one week, Jaylynn has somehow dragged me into a whole new life.
Ugly sweater contests, storefront decorating, wrestling a stubborn oversized star out from under a stage, then assembling the life-size nativity set in town square with her dad. Arts and crafts with kids sticky from hot cocoa and marshmallows. Teaching ankle-biters how to skate. Family dinners where laughter was louder than the clatter of forks. Hockey games on the frozen pond that ended with everyone breathless and rosy-cheeked.
And then there’s my team. The guys blowing up our group chat, wanting to know all about my fiancée. Rip demanding proof of life. Roman insisting ‘pics or it didn’t happen’. For the first time in forever, their chirps didn’t feel like noise. They felt like…invitations. Like maybe I wasn’t just skating on the outside, waiting for the call to pack my bags.
A smile tugs at my mouth before I can stop it. I’ve never really felt like I belonged anywhere, and hell, maybe a part of me didn’t want to. But something’s shifting.
And let’s be real. Jaylynn is the reason.
But…reality check. Getting close to her, to this family, to these teammates, only to lose it all if I get sent back down? That’ll gut me.
Still, standing here, singing off-key with her shoulder pressed into mine, my breath mixing with hers in the cold air, I know one thing with bone-deep certainty. Every ridiculous, festive, uncomfortable thing she’s made me do this week…I loved it.
And the scariest part?
I loved it because of her.
Fuck. What is happening to me?
I don’t know. I only know what the next two days will bring. Me in a Santa suit and the lighting of the town’s Christmas tree, and making better memories for Jaylynn. I want to overwrite the humiliation Dylan dumped on her that night years ago, when he left her crying on the stage, laughter in the air instead of applause for all her hard work with the festival. If it kills me, she’ll have new memories, ones that wash those old painful ones away, forever.
“Oh, we have to go to Penn’s house,” Judy says, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold.
My head lifts. “It’s too far to walk,” I remind her. We’ve been making our way through the downtown blocks, but Aunt Elaine’s place is miles away. No way we’re dragging everyone through the snow and ice.
“Come on, son.” Will throws his arm around me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Son.
My heart stutters and suddenly it’s a little harder to swallow.
“You’re family now,” he says again, with that simple conviction that always rocks me back on my heels. “And we have to sing to family.”
Do we, though?
I don’t say it. Instead, I stand there, feeling foolish—and maybe a little raw—for loving the way this man treats me. Not just like his daughter’s fiancé. Not just like a guy passing through. Like a son. Like the father I never had, and never let myself admit I wanted.
And the craziest part is I already know I’m going to miss all of them—Jay’s big, loud, messy, rambunctious family. I used to swear I liked solitude. Convinced myself it was freedom. Maybe that was just the story I told to cover up the fact that I’d never been invited into something worth missing before.
“Oh right, I forgot you lived out there in the middle of nowhere,” Dylan cuts in, his voice sharp enough to scratch. He snorts, then pretends to think, tapping his temple. “You lived with… what was it? Oh, that’s right. Your aunt, Elaine.”
“Yes,” I answer through clenched teeth. He’s got that familiar smirk on his face. The same one I remember from high school. He’s winding up for a punchline, ready to drag me down in front of her family. But here’s the thing. I’m not a teenager anymore. And I’m not about to let Jay watch me snap and give Dylan what he wants.
As if she senses the storm brewing inside me, Jaylynn slips her hand around my arm. Her touch steadies me, tells me. Not who Dylan tries to paint me as, but who I really am.
“Come on,” she says lightly. “We’ll drive out with Mom and Dad.”
“Dylan, I’m cold,” Sloane whines at his side, tugging at his sleeve. “Can we just go home? You can warm me up.” Her smile is filled with promises, but he doesn’t take the bait.
Dylan shakes his head, puffing up like he’s so fucking important. “It’s Christmas, Sloane. As mayor, it’s my obligation to be here for the people.” Then, to her, “Why don’t I drop you at my parents’ place and I’ll meet you there later?”
“Fine,” she huffs, then Dylan tilts his head toward Jaylynn.
“Jay, you can ride with me if your father’s car isn’t big enough for everyone.”
Like hell she will.
I wrap an arm around Jaylynn’s waist and pull her flush against me. “There’s plenty of room,” I say, voice low, even, deliberate. I meet Dylan’s eyes and don’t blink. “She’s with her family. Where she belongs. And there’s no need for you to drive out to Elaine’s.”