by Mari Carr
Until a few hours ago, Oliver would have sworn there was nothing he wouldn’t do, wouldn’t sacrifice, for his foster brother.
But it turned out, there was one thing he couldn’t give up.
His wild dreams.
2
Present Day
“Dammit, Sunnie. You need to slow down. The tree looks ridiculous with so many ornaments at the bottom and not enough at the top.” Oliver took the three ornaments Sunnie had grabbed to put on the Christmas tree.
Sunnie put her hands on her hips but didn’t try to take the ornaments back. “So sue me. I can’t help it if I’m height-challenged. Besides, if you guys would spend more time decorating and less time passing around that damn bottle of Jameson, we’d have a more even distribution.”
Another year had passed, and as always, the Collins cousins had just finished consuming their obnoxiously huge Friendsgiving dinner. They were now gathered in the living room of the apartment above Pat’s Pub, decorating the Christmas tree.
This year, there’d been a slight break in tradition as they were celebrating Friendsgiving the Saturday after Thanksgiving, rather than the one before, thanks to a nasty flu bug in Yvonne and Darcy’s household last week, taking down their husbands, Leo and Ryder, as well as Yvonne’s baby daughter, Reba. Both women had been distraught over missing the event, so they’d all agreed to postpone it a week.
Friendsgiving was probably one of Oliver’s top five favorite days of the year. While he enjoyed doing Thanksgiving with his entire family, there was something about spending time with his cousins and close friends—all twenty- and thirty-somethings—that appealed to him just a little bit more. Probably because they were freer with the booze, the cussing, the drinking games—he’d just ruled at flip cup—as well as the risqué jokes and stories. Plus, with fewer family members in the room, he got to talk to everyone more. Not a day went by when Oliver wasn’t grateful to be a part of this crazy, fun family.
“Hey, normally you’re the one hogging the whiskey. It’s not my fault you went and got knocked up,” Oliver teased. Sunnie had shocked them all at Thanksgiving dinner when she said she was thankful for generous maternity leave. The next great-grandchild was coming in May, and Oliver couldn’t be more thrilled for Sunnie and her husband, Landon.
Landon took another chug of Jameson and grinned when Sunnie narrowed her eyes at him. Landon was already three sheets to the wind, something that was pretty unusual for the straight-laced cop.
“What?” Landon said, giving his wife an innocent look that missed the mark by a mile. “I’m drinking for two now.”
Sunnie laughed loudly and grabbed another ornament, muttering, “asshole,” before returning to the tree.
Oliver gave up on taking ornaments from the pile and instead started shifting some of the lower ones higher. He turned and caught sight of Gavin kicked back in the recliner, enjoying the show. “Thanks for the help, bro,” he said sarcastically.
Gavin raised one eyebrow. “You all look like a bunch of ants scurrying around a sugar cube. I’m not even attempting to break into that mess.”
Erin, Oliver’s girlfriend, came out of the kitchen with a tray full of mugs of homemade eggnog. Oliver quickly walked over to grab one before the vultures descended and there was none left. Erin made killer eggnog, using, as she said, “fresh-from-the-chicken’s-butt eggs” from Leo’s family’s farm.
Oliver and Erin had been dating just over a year, his first truly serious girlfriend, and the more time that passed, the more convinced he was that she was the one.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t the only one he wanted.
Gavin, who wouldn’t budge for the tree decorating, stood quickly to help himself to one of the mugs of eggnog before relieving her of the heavy tray.
“Thanks,” Erin said, before pointing at Gavin’s glass. “By the way, that’s your third one.”
“You’re keeping count?” Gavin asked. “You can’t keep your eyes off me, can you?”
Erin rolled her eyes at his joke. “Don’t you wish.”
“Actually, I’m afraid you’re lacking…” Gavin said, slowly shaking his head as he gestured toward his crotch with his mug hand, while trying to hold steady the eggnog tray with the other.
“Oh, that’s right. I don’t have a penis,” Erin said. And then, because she and Gavin were professionals when it came to teasing each other, she added, “Phew. Dodged that bullet.”
Gavin chuckled and gave her the win, placing the tray on the coffee table before resuming his seat in the recliner.
“Sunnie,” Erin said, lifting up one of the mugs. “I made an alcohol-free one for you.”
Sunnie’s eyes lit up. “Yes! Although I’m going to pretend it has rum in it. Between Landon and my dad, I don’t know how I’m going to make it six more months without alcohol. I swear they’ve found a way to double-down on their overprotectiveness. Something I seriously didn’t think was possible. To make matters worse, Dad actually called me this morning and spent twenty minutes lecturing me on the importance of prenatal vitamins. I had to put my foot down when he started to launch into the pros and cons of natural childbirth, reminding him he was a cop and not a doctor.”
Erin laughed. “I think it’s great your dad is so excited.”
“That’s because you’re watching it from afar,” Layla said. “You just wait until we start having babies. The Morettis are going to be just as insanely annoying.”
Layla, Erin’s cousin, was dating Oliver’s cousin, Finn. Gavin constantly joked that the blending of the two families was unavoidable, considering half the East Coast seemed to be related to either the Collinses of Baltimore or the Morettis of Philadelphia. As such, Gavin had determined their dating pools were seriously limited, and overlapping was bound to occur.
“I didn’t say they wouldn’t be annoying,” Erin said, “but the fact that they live in Philly might help mitigate some of that.”
Miguel—Layla and Finn’s third—snorted, then pretend-sneezed the word, “Bullshit.”
Finn slapped his boyfriend on the shoulder. “Amen to that. The Moretti brothers might live in another state, but they still find ways to make their presence known.”
Layla rolled her eyes. “My brothers are fine…now.”
“Now being the operative word,” Miguel added.
Layla was the youngest and only girl in a family of five, and her older brothers had taken some time warming up to the fact their kid sister was shacking up with not one but two men. However, it had been two years now, and the Moretti brothers had not only accepted the relationship, but they’d welcomed Finn and Miguel into their fold…and joined the Collins clan at the same time.
Erin handed out the rest of the eggnog, Colm and Kelli each grabbing a glass. Most of the cousins—the ones with kids—had headed home after dessert, but more than a few of them had opted to hang out longer to help decorate the Christmas tree.
Oliver missed the days when there were a lot of cousins living in the apartment that Aunt Riley had dubbed the Collins Dorm. As the youngest of the cousins, Oliver had waited impatiently for years to be old enough to finally move in. Of course, by the time he’d gotten there, most of the others had fallen in love and moved out. Right now, it was only he and Gavin sharing the too-big space that had once been the home Pop Pop shared with Grandma Sunday and their seven kids. Oliver swore that one day it was going to be his family, his own hopefully huge brood, filling this apartment.
As he glanced at Gavin and Erin, he felt—as he always did—that spark of hope that it would be the two of them living here with him. And while there was no indication that would ever work out, Oliver was nothing if not an optimist. He got that personality trait from his father, Sean, who’d gotten it from Pop Pop.
Erin perched on the arm of Gavin’s recliner, the two of them sipping eggnog and watching the family continue to jostle for a position around the tree as they added ornament after ornament—each of them containing some memory or story of years gone by—unt
il they reached the final four.
Padraig carefully held up the box that contained the special ornaments, and he took off the lid.
“Hang on,” Sunnie said, grabbing her phone. “I promised Pop Pop we’d FaceTime him when we got to this part.”
Their elderly grandfather now lived with Sunnie’s parents, Riley and Aaron. They’d added an “in-law” style suite to their house when Pop Pop’s knees got too bad to continually make the trek up and down the stairs that led from the pub to this apartment.
“Hey, Pop Pop. What do you think?” Sunnie asked as she held the phone up to show him the tree as Colm plugged in the lights.
“Oh my. What a bonny tree. I think that might be the best one we’ve ever had,” Pop Pop said.
Oliver and Gavin shared a grin. Pop Pop said the exact same thing every year.
“We’ve got Grandma Sunday’s ornaments here.” Sunnie turned her phone to show him the box, which Padraig had placed on the coffee table.
Pop Pop referred to them as the “family’s treasure,” as if they were a band of pirates and this was their buried booty. Oliver doubted there was anyone in the family who couldn’t recite the story of how Pop Pop and Sunday had been so poor during their first Christmas in America that they hadn’t even been able to afford ornaments for their Charlie Brown-style tree.
According to Pop Pop, Sunday had found a box of lightbulbs, which she’d painted with bright, festive, colorful holiday scenes. Somehow, every single one of those glass ornaments had survived countless decades—which was no small miracle, considering how rowdy the Collins boys could get—and they were always the last ornaments to be placed on the tree.
Sunnie held the phone as Colm, Finn, Padraig, and Oliver each took one from the box.
When Oliver’s dad lived here with his siblings, the honor of hanging the ornaments belonged to Sunday, and then, after her passing, Pop Pop. However, since then, the cousins had begun to take turns because Pop Pop refused to take the ornaments with him when he moved out, insisting that they belonged in Sunday’s home.
This year was Oliver’s turn, but as his gaze landed on Gavin, who gave him a thumbs-up and a wink that didn’t hide the fact he was as touched as the others in this room by the annual tradition, he decided to add someone new to the rotation.
Oliver held out the ornament he held. “Your turn this year, Gavin.”
Gavin appeared surprised as he looked at Colm, Padraig, and Finn.
“Get up here, cuz,” Padraig said, gesturing for Gavin to join them.
Gavin stepped next to Oliver, not bothering to hide his surprise…and gratitude. “You sure?”
Oliver handed him the ornament. “Don’t drop it,” he joked, though the huskiness of his voice lessened the effect.
“Thanks,” he said, low enough Oliver was certain he was the only one to hear it.
Oliver wondered how long it would take for Gavin to believe he truly was a part of this family. He’d lived amongst them for nine years now, but even after all that time, the memories of his mother and the trauma caused by her physical and mental abuse still cast a wide shadow over his life.
Oliver lightly hip-bumped him and smiled. “You belong here, brother.”
“Okay, you guys ready?” Sunnie held the phone up so Pop Pop could watch as each of them placed the ornaments on the tree. They’d purposely kept a section front and center clear of ornaments so that these would stand out. One by one, they added them to the tree, and as they did so, Sunnie led them in a round of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.” Oliver could hear Pop Pop’s voice bellowing out the words through the phone.
Once all the ornaments were in place, they stood back to admire their work.
“Best tree yet,” he heard Pop Pop say before bidding them all good night.
After that, the rest of the family began to leave until it was just Gavin, Oliver, and Erin left in the apartment. She topped up each of their mugs with the last of the eggnog, and the three of them sat together watching the tree lights flicker.
Oliver and Erin cuddled on the couch as Gavin reclaimed his spot in the recliner. Oliver wondered how many nights in the past year the three of them had been right here, just like this. He’d started dating Erin shortly before Friendsgiving last year, their relationship becoming more serious shortly after the holidays.
“I thought Zach was coming to Friendsgiving tonight,” Erin said, glancing at Gavin.
Gavin never seemed at a loss to find guys to date, but none of them lasted long.
“No. That’s over. Guy was too over-the-top dramatic. Sort of wore me out.”
Erin laughed softly even as she rolled her eyes. “You’re too picky.”
“Naw. All the good gay guys have already been snatched up.”
Oliver felt Gavin’s eyes on him as he spoke. Erin didn’t miss the look either.
“You could always come to the dark side and find yourself a girlfriend like me,” Oliver joked.
“Do it. Do it,” Erin chanted, deepening her voice, as if she were some Disney villain luring the hero to evil.
Gavin waved them off. “Gay. Not bi. Remember?”
Oliver sighed and looked away for a moment, wishing he could find some way to move beyond these damn dreams. He had Erin now. That should be enough.
No. It was enough. It was.
Maybe if he told himself that enough times, he’d start to believe it.
Erin, bless her, always found a way to distract him from his heavy thoughts. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Jordan moved out this morning.”
“I thought she was staying in the apartment until the New Year?” Gavin mused.
Erin shrugged. “Decided she wanted to spend the holidays with her new beau at their place.”
“Are we taking bets on how long it takes until the relationship fails and she comes back?” Oliver asked, completely ready to put money down on it. The gambling gene ran deep in the Collins family.
Erin shook her head. “Hell no. I’m not doing that again. I’m putting out feelers for a new roommate on Monday. Jordan needs to learn she can’t keep screwing me like this. She falls in love in a hot minute, moves in with the loser, falls out of love in the next minute, then comes back to me with her tail between her legs, begging for her old room. Do you know how many months’ rent she’s screwed me out of with this game? I can’t afford her anymore.”
Oliver nodded, feigning support, even as he knew Erin’s words were merely bravado. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind she’d take Jordan back because Erin had a heart as big as New York and softer than a marshmallow.
“You know, you could always give up your place and move in here with us.”
If he’d been a smart man, he would have broached that subject with Gavin first, and privately, but he’d had one too many mugs of eggnog, and his mouth was working faster than his brain. Still, neither he nor Erin missed the sudden change in expression on Gavin’s face.
He had to hand it to his foster brother. He schooled it quickly, but for a split second, there was no missing the frown…or was it a scowl?
Shit.
Luckily, Erin knew how to save him from himself. “Hell no. Y’all are slobs, and while I don’t mind visiting this testosterone-laden abode from time to time, it’s nice to have a chance to escape it at the end of the day.”
“Speaking of escapes,” Gavin added. “I’m done in. Think I’ll call it a night. See you in the morning.” He rose from the recliner, carrying his empty mug to the kitchen.
Neither Oliver nor Erin spoke until they heard him walk down the hall, closing his bedroom door behind him.
“Oops,” Oliver mumbled.
Erin shook her head, but her gentle smile told him she wasn’t mad at him. It was one of the things he loved the most about her. She was slow to anger, quick to forgive, and the most patient person he’d ever known. He’d dated enough high-maintenance women to appreciate Erin’s easygoing approach to life. “I know you say you’ve moved on, Ollie—”
“I
have moved on.”
Erin shook her head, refusing to accept what they both knew was a lie. “I know what you want, but Gavin doesn’t want the same.”
“I don’t—” he started.
She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “You’ve said I’m enough, Ollie. And I believe you. But I also know there’s still a part of you that longs for more. You don’t have to hide that from me.”
Oliver ran his hand through his hair, frustrated. “Erin,” he started.
“Don’t,” Erin cut in. “Don’t pretend for me. We’ve been together long enough that I know you still harbor that dream of a relationship like the one your parents share. And I also know you keep trying to put me and Gavin in those roles.”
Oliver shook his head, refusing to admit that because he didn’t want to hurt her, didn’t want her to think that what they shared wasn’t enough for him. He’d already lost Gavin to this dream. He couldn’t lose her too.
Part of him wondered if his inability to accept his dreams couldn’t come to fruition was hindered by Erin and Gavin’s friendship. It was so genuine, so close. When he’d first started dating Erin, it hadn’t taken long to know she was special, different from the women he’d dated before.
Gavin had realized—even before Oliver—that Erin was going to stick. The first couple of months had been touch and go as Gavin’s mood whenever Erin was around plummeted, his foster brother acting like a grade-A moody, sullen asshole. It had gotten so bad that Oliver had even briefly considered breaking things off with her, hating the feeling of having to choose between his girlfriend and his best friend.
In the end, it had been Erin who’d turned the tide. She’d looked right at Gavin shortly before Valentine’s Day last year and asked him point-blank why he didn’t like her.
Gavin hadn’t had an answer, at least not one he was willing to confess. He’d closed down in true Gavin style, reverting to character, and Oliver had stepped in to whisk Erin away before she pushed him too far.
