Chapter 40: Hidden Scars: Chapter 39

some Christmas movies —

, and — while they all munch on snacks. I eat cut up vegetables while Jeremy smirks at me, shoving more chocolate-covered popcorn into his mouth.

“When you’re slow and clumsy tomorrow, you only have yourself to blame.” I shake my head at him and pop a cherry tomato into my mouth. It’s weird being here, around a family that loves each other, but I’m starting to relax. It’s hard though. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, and everyone to start fighting.

“It’ll be worth it.” He shrugs.

I lean close to his ear and whisper, “If you can’t keep up, I won’t suck you off afterward.”

Jeremy’s hand stops halfway to his mouth then drops back to his bowl. With a huff and a side-eye, he reaches for my plate and takes a carrot.

“Good boy.”

“I hate you,” he mumbles around the carrot, and I grin.

“Don’t forget to drink water.” I hand him a water bottle and he snatches it from me, untwisting the cap and chugging half of it.

Every few minutes, I glance over to the pile of presents under the tree. In the rush to get out the door this morning, I left the bracelet at the house. I’ll be the only one sitting here, sticking out like a sore thumb, with nothing to contribute.

The credits roll for and Jordan turns to his grandma.

“Can we open presents now?” he begs, hands together like he’s praying. Keith joins in and both say, “Please?”

“Alright, start passing them out,” Grandma says and the boys jump forward, reaching for the colorfully wrapped gifts.

Jeremy turns to me with guilt in his eyes. “I don’t have anything for you, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

I shake my head. “I don’t really have anything for you either.” I shrug sheepishly. He gives me a quick kiss and turns back to his family.

Ella climbs into my lap once again and Jeremy puts his hand on my leg. Ella looks at his hand, her eyebrows pull together, and she pushes his hand off of me. Jeremy looks at her with fake determination. There’s something about her acceptance of me that warms my chest. Everyone else looks at me, at the fuck off expression, and gives me a wide birth, but not this little girl.

“Hey, he’s boyfriend.” He leans down toward her, pointing to his chest.

She points to herself, babbling in a serious tone.

“Oh, I see how you are,” he tells her, grabbing her off my lap and tickling her until she’s shrieking. “I’m the favorite, little miss. Me.” She wiggles and squirms to get free, only to climb right back into my lap.

Jeremy sighs and winks at me before looking at her again. “You’re lucky you’re cute, kid.”

“Okay, Ella,” Stacy says. “Open a present!”

Jeremy hands her one and I help her hold it. She struggles to get it started so I rip a piece to show her how to do it and end up pulling most of the paper off for her. She lifts it up and yells something, then hands it to me to open. It looks like a kid’s Xbox controller with a face on it and different colored buttons. Probably makes a lot of noise.

I’m handed some scissors and get it open for her while Jordan and Keith open stuff up next, new games, then Jeremy gets a new hoodie with the Lumberjacks logo on it. He laughs and pulls it on. Around and around they go, I help Ella open all her things and show her how they work. I’m grateful for the task, honestly. By the end of it all, there’s a big mess of wrapping paper and packaging. The younger boys go and grab garbage bags and everyone starts cleaning up.

Ella shows me a box she has decided is the best thing ever, puts it on the ground, and crawls inside to sit.

“Ope, hold on, there’s another one.” Jeremy’s mom pulls something out from the other side of the tree. “Preston.” She reads the name tag and hands it to me.

What the hell?

I look at Jeremy but he’s watching his grandma. My palms are suddenly sweaty, so I wipe them on my pants before reaching for the box wrapped in red and white-striped paper.

The tag says Now I’m nervous. What the hell is it? I only got here yesterday, did they go out and buy something for me? I didn’t bring them anything. Guilt eats at me as I stare at the package.

“Open it.” Jeremy bumps my shoulder with his.

Glancing around, I see everyone is watching me. My face flushes at the attention.

Carefully, I open the wrapping paper to find a brown box. Jeremy hands me scissors to cut through the tape, and with shaking fingers, I lift the flaps and tissue paper. I sit in stunned silence, staring at what has to be a quilt.

Blue, snowflake, and hockey inspired fabrics laid out in a star shape. My throat burns as I stare at it, my head spinning too fast to focus on any one thought.

Jeremy clears his throat. “Grandma makes quilts in her spare time.”

My eyes, glassy with tears, meet his grandmother’s.

“You.” I swallow past the lump threatening to choke me. “You made this?”

She smiles at me and nods. “Everyone in the family has one.”

The implications of that hit me square in the chest. I don’t know how to process this. Why would she give me this? She’s barely met me. I don’t have words for what is racing through my head.

Handing the box to Jeremy, I stand and walk up to her, wrapping my arms around her in a hug.

“Oh,” she squeaks in surprise right before she hugs me back.

“I…Uh, I’m…” I sniffle tears back but don’t know what to say.

She rubs my back, squeezing me tightly. “You’re welcome.”

“Thank you,” I manage to get out, wiping tears from my face over her shoulder.

I drop down to kneeling so I’m not towering over her and just let her hug me. I don’t remember the last hug I got from my grandmother or my mother but I know it’s been at least eleven years. I don’t remember what either of them sounded like or smelled like, what their laugh was like, and I was never allowed to grieve for them.

Vaguely, I’m aware of people leaving the room and I’m grateful for it. This woman that doesn’t know me and has no reason to be nice to me, just holds me, giving me this moment.

“Preston,” Jeremy says behind me. His hand splays on my back and, for a few minutes, we just sit here.

Wiping my eyes again, I straighten up, my head dropped toward the floor.

“I don’t know your story, Preston,” his grandma says, placing a hand on my shoulder. “But I can tell my grandson loves you deeply and you return that love. That’s all I need to know to welcome you into this family. You will always be welcome here. Every holiday, birthday, random weekend, and family gathering.”

I nod but don’t look up at her. She kisses the top of my head then leaves us alone. I hate being so messed up. Who the hell cries over a blanket? God damn it.

Jeremy leans against my back.

“You’re an asshole,” I grumble at him, making him chuckle.

“What did I do?”

“You knew it was coming.” I look at him over my shoulder then turn around and pull him against me. I pull his legs over mine and scoot him between my thighs to bury my face in his neck.

“I didn’t know for sure, but I had a feeling.”

I bite his neck and he hisses a moan.

“Tonight, your ass is mine,” I growl against his skin and he shudders when I slide my hand under his shirt and drag my nails against his skin.

“Yes, mark me.”

My dick hardens at his needy groan.

“Any chance we can get a few minutes in a locked room?” I slide my hand into his hair and grip it tightly. I know I don’t have to explain that I need to control him right now.

“Fuck,” he groans again as I bite at his scruffy jaw. He hasn’t shaved since he left Colorado and I have to admit, I love it.

“You should keep this.” I nuzzle the soft hair on his cheek and drag my tongue against it, the prickle of the short hairs tickling the tip of my tongue.

“If you don’t stop, everyone is going to see my hard on,” Jeremy moans.

“Where’s the bathroom?” I demand, needing him weak and needy under me. The control he gives me calms the ragged edges of my soul. I need him to need me.

He stands and I quickly follow him up the stairs, both of us careful not to make too much noise. At the top of the stairs, directly ahead, is the bathroom. We hurry toward it and I lock the door behind me. The room is small but I don’t need much room for what I have in mind. Jeremy grabs my face and fucks my mouth with his tongue. My hands drop to his pants, unbuttoning and dropping the zipper so I can pull him out. His dick springs free and I wrap my hand around it, jerking him quickly.

His groan becomes a whimper when I bite his lip hard.

Pulling away from his mouth, I drop to my knees and suck him into my mouth. Jeremy’s head drops back and he bites on his hand to keep quiet.

“Is there anything in here I can use for lube?”

Jeremy fumbles for a cabinet door so I open it and find a bottle of baby oil. I’m not going to ask why that’s there or how he knew it would be.

“Spread ‘em.” I tap his leg and coat my fingers in the oil. I’ll prep him while I suck him off, kill two birds with one stone.

He shuffles his legs as far apart as the clothes will allow and I slide my slicked up fingers against his hole while I bob on his cock. Jeremy is leaning against the bathroom counter, one hand in his mouth and the other in my hair, with my fingers pumping in and out of his greedy hole, his face flushed with arousal. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

I love the way the way he enjoys sex. No shame in what he likes.

His cock throbs on my tongue and he gasps as he cums down my throat while his ass clenches around my fingers. The bitter taste of his release filling my mouth is fucking delicious. I suck him dry, licking my lips to make sure I get every drop before standing and opening my pants one handed.

“Turn around,” I demand, and he doesn’t hesitate to move. “Hands on the counter, watch how much you love being fucked.”

I coat my dick in more oil and slide between his cheeks to find his puckered hole. Pushing forward, I sink in with no resistance. He groans and his eyes roll back in his head.

Gripping his hip with one hand, I cover his mouth with the other to keep him quiet and fuck into him. I use his neck to gag myself, biting and sucking on his skin and not giving a shit that everyone downstairs will see it.

He’s cum-drunk and loose in my hold, my favorite way for him to be, his knees and elbows not wanting to hold him up but I’m not giving him a choice. I fuck him hard, demanding, rough. I need it.

Jeremy moans into my hand, watching me in the mirror. Already, his dick is getting hard again but I ignore it.

My orgasm crashes into me like a train, damn near knocking me off my feet. I groan long and loud, the sound muffled into his neck with my teeth buried in his skin. He whimpers and clenches around me while I empty into him, making his hole sloppy with cum.

I release his mouth, my hand falling to the counter and my forehead drops to his shoulder while I pant for a minute.

“Shit, I needed that,” he mumbles, cum drunk like a mother fucker.

I chuckle and pull out of him. Dropping down into a squat, I pull his cheeks apart and see my cum leaking from his used hole.

I kiss one cheek and stand up, pulling my clothes up and adjusting them. His neck is fucked. There’s no way we can hide that. Red marks are already turning purple, teeth marks are dug into his skin. Great. Merry Christmas, I guess.

“Go down stairs while I clean up, hopefully I can sneak in and pull my hood over my neck or something.” He shrugs.

I turn him around and kiss him softly. “I’m sorry, I should have been more careful.”

He scoffs. “If you were careful, I wouldn’t enjoy it as much. I’m not embarrassed by sex.”

I smile at him and kiss him again. “Okay, I’m going.”

I leave the bathroom and head downstairs to find Stacy smirking up at me from the bottom landing. I freeze mid-step and watch her watching me. The smile that was on my face falls the longer she holds my gaze and now I don’t know what to do or say.

“What?” I finally ask. I don’t want to be rude, but she’s in my way and fucking up my escape.

“

” she says in way that everyone knows is bullshit.

“Stacy Marie! Leave your brother alone!” her mom hollers from somewhere else in the house.

“I’m not bothering anyone!” she yells back but doesn’t turn away from me.

Deciding to test my place in the family, I holler back, “Yes, she is!”

“I swear to God, Stacy! Leave that boy alone!”

Stacy rolls her eyes but moves aside and grins at me when I pass her, muttering under her breath as I go. “Tattle tale.”

“You started it,” I mutter back and find the empty spots at the table that were left for me and Jeremy. Pulling out a chair, I take a seat and look around the spread on the table. Roast beef, scalloped potatoes, rolls, macaroni and cheese, Watergate salad, green beans with bacon, stuffing, and sweet potatoes. It’s carb overload and I have no idea what I’m going to eat.

Looks like my dinner is roast beef with all the fat cut off and green beans. Maybe a roll. Jesus. How is anyone productive after a meal like this?

“Get off me, Stacy!” Jeremy shouts from the hallway and I turn to watch when she cackles. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

She doesn’t answer, just continues to laugh. An irritated Jeremy comes through the doorway with a black circle on his neck surrounding what looks suspiciously like my teeth. My eyes widen and color drains from my face.

Fuck. Me.

He stomps over and drops down into the chair next me, everyone at the table staring between the two of us while Stacy continues to cackle like a damn evil villain.

“I swear you kids are the reason I have gray hair,” their mother says, rubbing her forehead.

I drop my face toward my lap and wait for the ground to open up and swallow me whole. My face is hot with embarrassment at the obvious marks on Jeremy’s neck. Everyone at this table except Ella knows what we were doing, or at least thinks they know, and while we are both twenty-one, this is his family.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble so only he can hear me.

“I’m not,” he says at full volume.

“You guys exchanged gifts, in private, that’s adorable,” Stacy says, trying not to laugh. “We can all see what he gave you but what did you give him?” I glance up at her and almost laugh at how hard she’s trying to keep a straight face and failing. “You should get that tattooed on your neck.”

“You literally bring your fuck trophy with you everywhere you go,” one of the twins says, sticking up for Jeremy, though I can’t tell which one it was.

“Jordan Michael!” his mother scorns, his dad smacking him upside the back of his head.

The other twin snorts and covers his mouth while his entire body vibrates with laughter.

“Is your family always like this?” I whisper to Jeremy, who is also trying to hold in his laughter.

“Yes.”

“I swear! We can’t have one nice family get together without the four of you attacking each other and saying inappropriate things!” Mrs. Albrooke scorns her children and they all look properly chastised. It’s the strangest thing. If I had said anything like that about my sister in front of my father, I would be leaving with new scars, but none of them look physically afraid of their parents.

Jeremy’s grandma sighs and starts putting food on her plate. Everyone follows suit.

The dishes get passed around so everyone can get what they want onto their plates. I don’t want to be rude and not eat, but I also don’t want to waste food, so I put a little bit of everything on my plate and hope for the best. My stomach is already unhappy with these circumstances.

“I’m not ashamed of you or our relationship,” Jeremy says, leaning into me when he hands me a bowl of rolls. “I don’t care that everyone knows I have sex with you.”

“I’m still sorry you look like the family whore right now.”

He snorts and kisses my cheek. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

Our gazes meet and I smile softly at him, giving him a wink. “Me too.”

After dinner, the kids all head back to the living room to fall into a food coma and Stacy puts Ella down for a nap. Somehow, even after all that food, Keith and Jordan are eating cookies. I guess I’m staring because Jordan offers me one.

“They’re one of our family traditions. Every year we decorate these same cookies,” he says. I take it from him since I don’t want to be rude, but find myself confused. It appears to be Santa on an upside-down heart, so the round humps are his beard and the point is his hat, but it’s a little tilted. A white dot, and a red stripe followed by a white stripe make up the hat, a white circle with a black circle in it makes the eyes, and the beard appears to be white frosting, but because it came out of a tube or piping bag, it looks like white pubes.

I turn it around and look at it from a different angle, but no matter what I do, it looks like a ball sack with Santa’s face on it. They can’t be serious. Has no one ever noticed this before?

“What?” Jeremy asks me as I continue to inspect the cookie. Seriously?

I look at his siblings and they’re all looking at me with similar confusion.

“Uh, nothing.” I hand the cookie to Jeremy and stand. “I need to pee.”

Heading down the hallway, I find the bathroom and almost have the door closed when someone puts a hand on the door to stop it. Peering through the crack, I can see it’s Jeremy.

“Seriously, what was wrong with the cookie?” he asks.

“Those are ball sack Santa cookies,” I whisper so no one overhears me.

His eyes get wide and a huge smile takes over his face. “My Grandma has been making those cookies, with that same cookie cutter, for forty years!”

“Are you trying to tell me they don’t look like ball sacks?” I demand.

He cracks up laughing, doubling over.

“Jeremy!” I hiss at him. I swear I will die of embarrassment if his sweet grandmother hears about this. She’s a saint of a woman and I am already horrified that she knows I fucked her grandson upstairs.

“I never thought of it, but that’s all I’m going to see from now on.” He’s laughing so hard he’s crying. “Ball sack Santa!”

Another voice cackles down the hallway and I know one or both of the twins have heard. Jesus fucking Christ.

“Oh my God!” Stacy shrieks. “They look like ball sacks!”

The twins and Stacy are dying laughing in the family room, which gets the attention of the ladies in the kitchen. Jeremy stumbles his way to the living room, still holding his stomach and laughing, while I follow after him with my face on fire.

Kill me now.

“Stop saying ball sack! It’s Christmas!” Mrs. Albrooke scolds her children, which just makes them laugh harder.

“What the hell is going on out here?” Jeremy’s grandma stands with her hands on her hips.

“The-The…” Jeremy starts but is laughing too hard to get the words out. He wipes the tears from his face and sucks in a deep breath. “The Santa cookies look like ball sacks.”

“Excuse me?” Grandma moves to stand behind one of the twins and looks at the cookies on his plate for a minute then covers her mouth with her hand. “Oh, no. They look like ball sacks!”

“I can tell you with absolute certainty,” Jeremy announces, and everyone turns to him. “They do not like ball sacks.”

The boys bust up laughing while my eyes bug out of my head and I wish the floor would open up and swallow me whole. I can’t believe this is happening. Why didn’t I just keep my mouth shut?

I step forward, horrified that his family now hates me and I will forever be known as the asshole that ruined Christmas. “I am so sorry! They really are delicious cookies!”

Jeremy’s dad is wiping tears from his eyes, bent over and holding himself up with his hands on his knees. His grandpa is sitting in a chair and shaking with laughter.

“I hope you know, you are now a part of this family’s history.” Mrs. Albrooke looks at me, but she doesn’t look angry. “I guess we’ll be shopping for a new cookie cutter.”

“Lord,” Grandma says and comes to stand next to me. “Thank you, this is one of the most memorable Christmases I think we’ve ever had.” She disappears back into the kitchen with Mrs. Albrooke, leaving me to fend for myself with this group of laughing hyenas.

The women pack up the leftovers and we pile into the cars, most of the dishes coming back to the house with us.

Everyone disappears into their bedrooms, leaving everything except the food in the living room to be dealt with tomorrow. Jeremy strips down to his boxer briefs and sits on the edge of the bed as I pull off my jeans and find my backpack. Digging in the main pocket, I find the brown leather cuff and walk over to him, sitting next to him on the bed.

“I got this for you when I was sure you hated me and were going to break up with me.” I open my hand to show him what I have. It’s a simple piece of leather, about half an inch wide, with a snap closure and crossed hockey sticks embossed into the top. “I saw it in the gift shop and had to have it.” I shrug, uneasy. Why is it so hard to express my feelings when I’m not having a breakdown?

Jeremy puts his wrist out and looks at me. “Can you put it on me?”

I glance up at his face for a second and see an intimate smile on his lips and expectation in his eyes. I open the snap, wrap it around his wrist, and carefully close it. He pulls his arm back and inspects it with the smile still on his face.

“How does it look?” He holds his wrist out to me again and I grasp his arm in my hand, running my thumb over the design.

“It looks good.”

“I think so too.” He nods in agreement. “Thank you, I love it.”

Some of the tension drains from my shoulders when he kisses me. Jeremy pushes me back on the bed and we adjust until we’re lying on the pillows and the blankets are pulled up. This time, Jeremy lays his head on my chest, our legs intertwined, and our hearts beating together.

“Breaking up was never my plan,” he says in the dark, quiet room. “I was worried, really fucking worried, about you, but you’re mine and, no matter what, that’s not going to change.”

Quicker than I ever have before, I fall asleep knowing I’m safe and loved.