Maddy felt a burst of something indescribable inside her, a feeling that propelled her to close the distance even further and nuzzle Nate’s jaw before laying a feather-light kiss there and breathing her own whispered “thank you” for him to hear.
She felt more than saw Nate’s barely there shudder and shaky exhale as he tightened his arm around her.
After that, they settled in to watch the house-swapping shenanigans, the lovely performances, the sweet and funny moments, all while Nate seemed to be on a mission to drive her to complete distraction by rubbing circles into her arm and whispering his comments to her.
His proximity was probably going to kill her.
But what a way to go.
In all honesty, she was half paying attention to what she was watching, and half mulling over the events of the entire afternoon.
She couldn’t believe what Nate had done for her. Aside from her family, no one had ever done anything so thoughtful for her. Plus, she was fairly certain that he wasn’t particularly a fan of holiday movies. But he’d arranged all this, nonetheless. For her.
Maddy couldn’t help shifting slightly to peer up at him. The movement caused him to glance back at her.
“Why would you do this?”
Nate held her gaze steadily.
“I like seeing you happy, Mads,” he said simply. As if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb at her.
“Happy,” she repeated, feeling her heart swell twice its size.
Nate just nodded and leaned over to kiss her temple.
Well, mission accomplished.
twenty-three
Nate found it impossible to sleep that night, his thoughts circling back to Madison and the day they’d had.
When he’d stepped into his house a few hours ago and seen the dozens of twinkling lights littering the living room, bathing it in their soft light, he’d never felt more content.
Watching Madison trying to reach the highest places of the Christmas tree and failing, huffing and puffing while struggling with the tangled mess of the string of lights, Nate had kept wondering how it could be possible for someone to be so cute and ridiculous at the same time.
He hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off her.
And seeing his mom truly enjoying herself, had made something squeeze and release inside Nate.
In the end, on the way back from the movies, he’d told Madison about his father. Probably because he felt like there was nothing painful that he couldn’t confide in her and feel better, lighter, afterwards.
He’d told her how his father had left them when Nate had been really young. His brother, being three years younger than Nate, barely remembered it.
But Nate did.
How it had been Christmas morning. The shouts. The screaming. The breaking glass. How he’d run from his room only to run to stand in front of his mom who was cowering, trying her best to protect herself from his father. His father, who hadn’t always been like that. Who had once been kinder, not violent and harsh.
That morning, seeing Nate run to hug his mom tight around her waist, attempting to shield her with his little body, must have given his father pause. He had remained there, staring at them and fuming, before turning around and bursting out of the house. He’d got in his car and driven away.
They’d never seen him again.
From that day forward, Nate had tried to keep his family safe, to take care of them in his own little way, so he’d never have to see his mom stricken like that again.
Madison had listened to everything he had had to say, never interrupting, her gaze steely and unwavering, and when he’d finished, her only response had come in a firm, no nonsense voice.
“Well, his fucking loss, Nate.”
And her words had loosened something within him that had always felt gnarled and ugly.
