Winter Wonderland

fourteen: christmas night

*

It turns out Storie is insanely competitive.

I had no idea. But the moment she joins Monopoly – once the girls have had a moment to hyperventilate and Mom's had a moment to gush over Storie and the boys have been persuaded to restart the game – I see a whole new side of her.

She is ruthless, whether she's making deals with poor old Sammy or gleefully adding houses and hotels to an entire side of the board after bleeding Dad dry of cash. I don't even care when I land on Boardwalk with a hotel because honestly I'm kind of turned on. I owe her two grand, two grand that I definitely don't have even if I mortgage every property I have, so I hand over what little cash I have and I throw my meagre properties into the middle for whoever lands on free parking next.

"Damn, Liam, your girlfriend is savage," Matthew says with a laugh when, on his roll, he lands on Pacific Avenue and manages to scrounge up the $1275 he owes. She counts it with a grin, fanning out the cash before sorting it into piles, and even Dad looks amused.

"Well, seeing as I'm out, anyone want a drink?" I ask, getting to my feet with a grunt. "Tea? Coffee? Prosecco? Beer?"

I get a whole bunch of responses thrust at me and have to make a note on my phone to remember them all, and it's momentary relief to be alone in the kitchen, boiling the kettle and pouring prosecco, and warming milk for Anna. I have a bottle of bubbly in my hand when I hear footsteps and I look up to see Storie, and my heart flips over at the sight of her. She's wearing a thick sweater, the sleeves coming halfway down her hands, and she looks so soft and warm; I put down the bottle and envelop her in my arms.

Her ear is pressed against my chest and I close my eyes for a moment, resting my cheek on her hair. My heart settles, my pulse slipping back to normal, and still locked in a hug, I start to sway. There's music playing far off at the other end of the house, just loud enough to hear, and I move my feet, and Storie moves hers.

We're dancing slowly, not quite slow dancing, to what sounds like a new version of an old Christmas Carol, and when Storie starts to hum, I feel it vibrating in my chest. My hands drop from around her shoulders to her hips, my fingers lacing at the small of her back as we move in sync.

"You're not out of the game yet," I murmur. "You're two rolls away from winning."

"The game can wait a minute," she says, bringing one hand up to my neck to guide my lips to hers. Screw Monopoly. This is far more important.

We kiss like we have all the time in the world. We kiss like we're the only people in this house. I forget how to breathe, drinking in every nanosecond of this moment. A moment that only ends when I hear the slap of much smaller feet growing closer, and we part in time to see Anna rushing in.

"Are you coming back?"

"We're coming," Storie says, disentangling herself from me. I make a mess of rushing to sort everyone's drinks, and I'm sure I splash a couple drops of prosecco into Anna's milk, so I sprinkle in a little more sugar to hide the taste, and we return to my family.

It isn't long before the game's over. Storie wins with ease, bankrupting every single one of us. She collects cash and properties with glee, planting hotels on every spot until she runs out and has to buy houses, and as hard as Dad tries to stay in the game with the three cards in his hand, he can't hold on for long. There's a ten-minute stand-off, when he gets lucky with a few rolls and avoids landing on any of Storie's properties, but it all comes crashing down in seconds when he lands on Boardwalk and has to surrender.

"Good game," he says, shaking her hand. "A humiliating defeat for me, but a good game."

She beams. Getting praise from Vitaly Alexandrov can be like getting blood from a stone. It's worth soaking up every drop.