The start of Christmas Eve.

I was standing there in the middle of the living room, hands in my pockets, watching with great amusement as Cake chased after one of the Christmas tree’s red ball decorations. Have you ever watched an animal do something like that and wish something so simple could make you so happy? I’m telling you, Cake was entranced. I was surprised she hadn’t jumped on the Christmas tree to steal all the other decorations.

Anyway, it was 8:30 pm on a Thursday and I’d just gotten back from work. Christmas break had officially begun, and Maria said she wouldn’t be opening the shop that Saturday. I was very much looking forward to a week of rest.

Ah, by the way, Isabelle and I were forbidden from cooking dinner that night. We weren’t ordering food, either. This time it was mom’s turn, and I was looking forward to it. She doesn’t cook much because she comes home late from work, but she has never failed to prepare a whole turkey for us on Christmas Eve. She’d been in the kitchen for about three hours already.

I heard the doorbell ringing and my heart skipped a beat. I checked myself one last time, just to be sure. A had a new tight-fitting, dark green sweater on with a gray shirt underneath and blue jeans. Everything was in its intended place.

“I’ll get it,” Isabelle said, coming down the stairs.

“No, go away,” I told her, hurrying to the door.

Isabelle stopped to laugh in the middle of the stairs.

I opened the door, smiling from ear to ear when I saw Grace on the other side. She looked amazing in a loose red sweater, a red, white and green plaid scarf around her neck, a black skirt that reached below her knees and black stockings. Most notably, her long hair was loose instead of in the usual braid, which gave her a completely different vibe. I would’ve kissed her if not for the cake box she had in her arms.

“I was confident I looked nice, but those eyes say I hit the jackpot,” she said with her own smile. “And you’re looking pretty sharp yourself.”

“It’s just a sweater,” I said.

“Tight-fitting clothes just suit you, love.”

We shared a short, silly laugh and a quick peck on the lips.

“Come on in,” I told her as I took the cake box from her. “Thank you.”

Grace walked in, and as I was closing the door, Isabelle jumped down the last three steps of the stairs. “Holy crap. Is that really you, Grace? You look completely different with your hair down!”

“Leaves an impression, doesn’t it?” Grace said, smirking and flipping her hair with her hand.

I always wish I could have half the confidence this girl has, even to this day.

I started making my way to the kitchen with the cake in my arms. Grace followed me. She breathed in deep right before we went in.

“Mom, Grace is here,” I told her. She was deftly chopping

“Good Evening, Mrs. Brooks,” Grace said in a tone that was… formally friendly? It sounded a little strange.

“Grace, welcome,” Mom greeted with an easy smile, stopping for a moment from chopping some vegetables. She then gave her a look over and chuckled. “My, you look gorgeous. Very tasteful.”

I saw my girlfriend’s cheeks turn pink. “T-Thank you. And again, thank you very much for letting me be here tonight.”

“Don’t mention it. We’re happy to have you. Dinner will be ready in about 40 minutes, so feel free to spend some time with your boyfriend until then,” she teased. “Just be… You know what, never mind.” Mom shook her head with a smile. “I’ll call you over when it’s ready.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help?” I asked her.

“I told you, I’m in charge of the kitchen tonight. Too many cooks spoil the broth, after all.”

Especially inexperienced cooks.

“Then we’ll be in my room. Is that okay?”

“Sure.”

Grace and I walked out of the kitchen, and while she followed me to my room, I could tell she felt somewhat awkward. We went into my bedroom, I closed the door and we sat down on my bed.

“Is it too uncomfortable to be here?” I asked her, worried.

Grace chuckled. “Sorry. It’s something totally new to me. I’d never cared about what a boyfriend’s parents thought of me, and since I do well in school and keep my more… unsavory activities to myself, I didn’t even need to care. I guess it’s true that the more you care about something, the more afraid you are of messing up.”

“You can’t mess anything up,” I told her, holding her hand and giving it a loving squeeze. “I love you because of who you are, Grace. I don’t need to hide you from my mother.”

I saw her cheeks redden and even felt her heart skip a beat, but Grace smirked teasingly at me and traced her finger along my chest. “Oh? Are you sure you don’t love me because I’m cute and have these?” She pushed her breasts together with her arms, drawing my eyes down from her eyes to her chest.

“No, that just makes me want to do nasty things to you,” I told her.

We laughed together, and seeing Grace smile so genuinely was a relief. I never considered myself good with words, so I worried I wasn’t able to say the right things at times like these. Thankfully, though, it seemed my feelings got through this time.

“Hey, kiss me?” Grace asked, now tracing her finger along my lower lip.

I leaned in and we came together into a deep, tender kiss. She let me slide my tongue between her lips, and when mine and hers touched, it sent a familiar yet always welcome shock along my body. God, kissing was amazing.

“Mmm. Hah. Hmm ♥️.” Grace moaned softly as our tongues danced, making barely-audible wet noises. She pulled on my sweater as if to hold herself back from doing more.

I wasn’t so strong. I led one of my hands up her curves and to her chest, giving one of her breasts a squeeze.

“Hmm ♥️!”

It was such a cute moan. My fingers sank into the soft, supple flesh of Grace’s chest, even though her sweater. Touching them always filled me with this dizzying pleasure I just couldn’t get enough of.

But then all of a sudden and without warning, Grace took my hand groping her in hers and moved it away. She smiled apologetically at me and pecked my lips one more time.

“Sorry. Not today.”

I tilted my head in confusion. “Not feeling well?” I asked her.

Grace shook her head. “Your mom didn’t say anything, but like I said, I don’t want to screw this up. I bet she let us come to your room knowing, or at least hoping, we wouldn’t go too far. And you already know how quickly you get me going by touching my boobs.”

I let out a long, drawn out sigh to cool myself. “You’re right. I got carried away.”

She cupped my cheek and smiled devilishly. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it up to you very, very soon. Christmas break is a week long, after all, and my dad isn’t coming back until after new years.”

I couldn’t help my own, excited smile. It was going to be a good break.

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