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Lying on my back, I see Nikolai look over the side of the bed at me. He’s trying to hide how hard he’s laughing.

I reach up and grab his shoulder. “Come here,” I say as I pull him down on top of me, then kiss him.

“You are ridiculous,” he says, still laughing when he pulls away slightly. He brushes our noses together, then gives me a quick kiss on the lips. He begins to rise, but the lack of space makes this more complicated than it needs to be.

His knees knock against me. He tries to use the air mattress for support but his hand slips and he almost elbows me in the face. Eventually, he rolls over off me, avoiding squishing Shutzie, then manages to sit.

I stare at him, admiring his face. His skin is flushed, his hair is a mess, but most importantly, his eyes are warm and happy when he looks back at me.

He reaches for his suitcase and slides it to his feet, then opens it and pulls out a Mules hooded sweatshirt.

“Choosing violence at breakfast, I see.” I can smell my mom’s cinnamon rolls baking in the oven.

He smirks. “I have Mules t-shirt if you want to put it on.”

“Yes, please,” I say as I hold my hand out.

“Was joke.” He laughs again, then leans back over and kisses me.

“I wasn’t,” I say, exaggerating my request by doing grabby hands at him.

He reaches into his suitcase and pulls the shirt out for me, then tosses it, hitting me in the face. “Okay. But you have to explain it to your brother.”

I chuckle at the thought. “Why do you think I want to wear it so badly?”

He sighs, but it’s happy. “Brothers never change.”

“We really don’t,” I say as I rise off the floor. Once standing, I hold my hand out to him. He grabs it and I pull him to his feet. Staring at him eye to eye, chest to chest again, I can’t stop myself from kissing him.

“I do not know if that will ever get old,” Nikolai says. He squeezes both of my shoulders.

“I hope not,” I say. But I’m struck by the look on his face. The happiness is still there, but it’s slightly clouded now. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he says as he sighs, then leans in and kisses me again. This time he deepens it and holds me closer to him. Last night we kissed like we were starving. But this kiss right here isn’t the same. Now it’s like he’s savoring me, and in return, I enjoy every ounce of him.

“Let’s go,” he says, pressing our foreheads together. “Whatever your mom is cooking smells wonderful.”

“Trust me, it is,” I say. “Christmas morning cinnamon rolls while we open gifts is a Bouchard family tradition.”

He steps away and pulls a pair of sweatpants out of his suitcase that matches his hoodie. “What other Christmas traditions do you have?” he asks as he puts them on. His expression is eager with his curiosity.

“Pond hockey!” I say excitedly as I step into my pants from the night before. “I hope my brother told you to bring some skates.”

“He did. They are in car. But I do not have all my gear.”

“Doesn’t matter,” I say as I open up the bedroom door. Shutzie goes shooting out of the room and I hear my dad mention that he’ll take him out. “I have tons of spare gear lying around.”

“Very good,” Nikolai says. When he gets into the kitchen, my mother hands him a plate with a warm cinnamon roll resting on it and a mug full of steaming hot coffee. He thanks her and continues towards the family room where everybody else’s voices are coming from.

“Here you go, sweetie,” my mom says to me as she hands me a cinnamon roll and mug of coffee as well. But before she lets me go, she pats me on the cheek and holds me steady there in front of her. She’s smiling up at me. “I like him.”

“I like him too,” I tell her, and it’s as if a weight I didn’t know I was carrying has been lifted from my shoulders, even if she doesn’t know what we were up to last night.

“Come on,” she says, grabbing her food and coffee as well.

I eagerly follow her into the living room. Christmas is mine and my mom’s favorite holiday and today we get to spend it with our favorite people in the world, plus a few extras. It’s how it should be and always will be here in this little corner of Green Bay.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Brandon asks, annoyance written all over his face.