Love Novel 85

Warmth. That’s the first thing I register when I wake up. The steady rise and fall of a chest beneath my cheek, the
comforting weight of an arm wrapped around me.
I snuggle into him, breathing him in. The sound of his heartbeat lulls me into a few more moments of peace. It’s so
strong, grounding.
I love the sound of it.
Zaid shifts slightly, and I tilt my head up just as he presses a soft kiss to my forehead.
“Good morning,” he murmurs, his voice thick with sleep. His dark eyes meet mine, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips.
I smile back at him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Good morning.”
“You look beautiful,” He says as he runs his thumb down my cheek.
I snort, laughing as I stretch against him. “Yeah, right. I’m sure bedhead and morning breath are so attractive.”
He doesn’t argue, just watches me like he really does think I look beautiful. I become self-conscious, shifting my gaze
away from him. He brings me back to him with his finger on my chin.
“You’re perfect.”
Warmth spreads through me, and I suddenly forget how to breathe. He watches my features with a smirk on his face.
“You really do look pretty in red.”
The words are muttered under his breath, and I know he commenting on my blush and reminding me of that day we met
for the first time. I inhale shakily, watching as he becomes uncertain.
We sit up, and he runs his hands through his already messy hair. I frown as he stands and walks to his closet.
“Zaid?”
He doesn’t answer right away. I can hear him rummaging through some things as I sit and wait.
When he walks back out, he has something tucked in his hands. He runs his fingers over the fabric.
I sit up fully, my breath catching when I see what he’s holding.
A dress.
A short, red dress, the silk shimmering under the light coming from the window.
My heart stutters as I glance from the dress in his hands to his dark eyes. “What’s this?”
Zaid exhales, his grip tightening slightly before he hands it to me. “I saw it in a shop window downtown. And I thought
you’d look beautiful in it.”
His words hit me, and I blink at him. He thought of me.
My fingers tremble slightly as I take the dress from him, smoothing my hands over it. My chest feels tight, my throat
thick. “You got this for me?”
He nods once, a little stiff. “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to. I don’t really even know if it’s something you would wear. It just—”
I drop the dress onto the bed without thinking, pushing myself up onto my knees. My arms wrap around his neck as I pull
him down into a kiss.
I can tell that it catches him by surprised. He stiffens, his hands still twisting in front of him. For that moment, he lost all
pretense of confidence. He was unsure if I would like the dress.
At this point, that’s the least of my worries. I would wear a potato sack if he bought me one. As long as it’s me he’s
thinking of.
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I move my lips against his, taking in the way he slowly melts into me, the way his shoulders lose their tension and the way
he wraps his arms around my waist.
He lets out a quiet moan and the second his fingers skim the skin of my hips, my clit comes to life.
I want more.
I need more.
But just as my fingers slide into his hair, he presses gently at my waist, breaking the kiss. I blink up at him, my breath
unsteady.
Zaid shakes his head, amusement flickering in his gaze. “It’s Christmas.”
I nod, but there are zero thoughts in my head.
He chuckles, low and warm. “We have a lot of things to do today.”
I blink.
He wipes the wetness from my lips. “We have to help Jake cook. Eat. And then we can open presents.”
I look down at the dress with a frown. “Is this my present from you?”
He licks his bottom lip and shakes his head. “No.”
My eyebrows lift. “What?”
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“You’ll have to wait.”
My stomach coils, my heart racing in my chest. He lets me go, helping me off the bed, and that’s when the realization
hits me like a ton of bricks.
The words are out of my lips before I can stop myself. “This is the first time I celebrate Christmas without my Alex.
Without my dad.”
Zaid’s gaze softens when he sees the shift in my expression, when he hears the panic in my voice. He cups my face,
swallowing. “My first without my mom.”
My lips tremble and I close my eyes, using Zaid’s strength to give myself just this moment to fall apart inside.
Zaid holds me as the memories bombard my mind. As I remember the gifts, the pranks, the absolutely terrible singing.
A sad chuckle escapes me.
“We’re not moving on,” Zaid whispers. “We’re not forgetting them.
I force a nod, swallowing against the sharp ache in my chest.
“But we have to start living for ourselves and not their memories. We can start our own traditions.”
That sounds beautiful. A way to heal the pain in our hearts.
I kiss him in the jaw, reaching for the dress and heading toward the door. He’s at my back, his heat seeping into me, and I
never want him to leave me. I want his heat close to me, always.
“I want you in all of my new traditions,” I whisper. I don’t look back at him; I walk out and make my way toward my
room.
Zaid doesn’t stop me. But I can feel his eyes on me; I can feel the way he looks at me. He makes me feel like the most
coveted thing in the wo