I deposit the last present in front of Sacha, grimacing as I do. Text was Sharpied onto the wrapping in delicate font 'from: Jesse'. His douche of an ex made sure Sacha didn't forget him on Christmas.

"Now we open!" Mama claps her hands. "Noelle, you start."

And so we go around the room and open our gifts. With a family as large as ours, we kind of have a system so that presents don't take all goddamn day. Packages from the same person get revealed at the same time, pictures taken for posterity.

I pull Reece back into my lap, ignoring Claude's teasing look and bemoaning Sacha's pained expression. Mama doesn't have social media except to connect with her children. None of the pictures will end up with any hashtags or Insta feeds. Still, I shield Reece with my body through most of them.

Mia crocheted everyone a toque from the soft yarn Henry gave me. Leo crafted hot cocoa bombs. Jack gifts us with a code to access him personally for tax returns and finance questions free of charge. Sacha gives a device to enable escape from their vehicle in case of emergency (of course he did, fun-sucker). Claude graces everyone with tailored essential-oil personal lubricant.

"For those intimate times," she winks at me.

"Oh!" Mama admires the bottle of rose hip and spearmint lube, glances to Papa. "This will be fun, no? I know you like the tingling around your – "

"Okay!" I bark. It takes a lot to embarrass me, but my parents talking about sex is definitely up there. "Next gift!"

"What's this tube thing?" Leo hefts the wrapped package. "So help me if it's a dildo –"

"It's from Reece, not me." Claude scoffs.

"Oh thank God," Sacha laughs.

Mia leers sideways at him. "Bro, you need a good dicking in your life."

"What part of this," Sacha gestures to his massive frame and MMA-formed musculature, "says 'bottom' to you?"

"There exist such things as 'switch'," Claude supplies helpfully. "Did you know that the prostate –"

"Just open the damn gift!" I snap, neck heating. Hugging Reece closely, I take a deep lungful of her delicious eucalyptus scent and whisper, "Sorry about them."

"Don't be," she murmurs back. "I've never seen you blush so much. It's hilarious."

"Har-har," I deadpan and nip her earlobe. At her shudder, my hand slips involuntarily under her shirt, thumbs the scar across her belly where nobody can see. "I'm glad you're here."

Reece's big brown eyes grow soft. "I'm glad you invited me."

"PUTAIN." Mama exclaims, the first to unwrap and unroll Reece's gift. "C'est incroyable,"

One by one, my siblings unfurl a gorgeous print of original art. Each pictures the Cincinnati skyline over the river, lights glittering off the surface of the water. It's a more sophisticated version of the doodle she did for the draw-off, rendered with dynamic color and breathtaking presentation.

"I wanted to give you guys something from where I'm from," Reece offers shyly, wringing her hands and coiling further against my chest. "I know it's not much."

"This is going up in the living room," Noelle looks at Jack. "You'll frame it, right?"

"Of course," he kisses her forehead while Oscar and Gabriel use his chest as a stunt track for their toy cars.

Mama nods eagerly. "Ce sera parfait sur le balcon." This will be perfect on the balcony.

"Omigosh," Mia gushes, looks eagerly to Leo. "We can put one in the bakery and – "

" – one in the apartment!" He completes her statement with an equally huge grin.

"This is gorgeous, Reece," Sacha looks up from his own print, offering a rare smile. "Thank you."

"Yes! Thank you!" Claude wrenches Reece from my chest and into a huge hug.

So begins the cycle of embraces. My poor girlfriend gets passed around the room and crushed with affectionate enthusiasm. Somehow, I end up with both Gabriel and Oscar in my lap while Noelle and Jack eagerly cluck over Reece and her work. She deserves the praise, obviously. My face hurts I'm smiling so hugely while the twins giggle as I toss one then the other into the air in a game of "way up high".

"Stop throwing my sons around and open your present," Noelle tuts me.

"They started it," I tease back, but set them on the cushions regardless.

Reece's present to me is square and heavy. Popping off the bow, I stick it to Gabriel's dark curls and peel off the paper. Soft, dark leather embossed with a cleverly crafted image of a jaybird greets my fingers. I admire the detail in the feathers, the amount of love and labor it must have taken.

"What is it?" Mia pipes.

I hold it up for the family to see. "A leather-bound sketchbook."

"Oh thank God," Papa chuckles. "Now you can stop drawing on walls."

"That cover is sweet," Claude beams, turns to Reece. "Where'd you get it?"

Reece shuffles awkwardly beside Jack and Noelle while my nephews crawl up my back and onto my shoulders. Her pale skin flushes, that full lower lip caught between her teeth. "I made it."

"You what?" Leo and Mia declare in stereo.

"There was a class on mixed media," Reece shrugs. "Part of it was working with leather."

Oscar and Gabe are making a jungle gym out of me, so I can't exactly sweep her into a hug and kiss her breathless like I want. Instead, I flash her a smile and tuck the book away from where the twins might damage it. "Thank you."

Her blush darkens prettily. "You're welcome."

Mama and Papa's gifts are next. We all unwrap a clear glass growler filled with what appears to be potpourri and burgundy liquid.

Jesus tapdancing Christ.

"It's Mamajuana!" Mama declares unnecessarily, winks to Reece. "For to make grandbabies."

"I literally have both hands full of grandbabies," I protest, hefting Gabe and Oscar.

Claude sees Reece's confusion and immediately launches into a dissertation. "Mamajuana is a drink originally concocted in the Dominican Republic and Haiti. It uses various herbs and tree bark from the island mixed with red wine, honey, and rum. It's touted to be a cure-all from gout to decreased libido."

"Careful," Jack chuckles. "A few shots of that and I became a father."

"This is the perfect time to open my present, then," Noelle chimes.

We all find the small box from Noelle. Inside is a smattering of pink confetti and glitter along with an assortment of gourmet meat and cheese. I'm digging the food part but confused about the other fillings.

Jack catches on faster than I do. "Babe...?"

"Surprise!" Noelle holds up her hands, beaming at her husband. "I'm pregnant. With a little girl."

He looks deliriously happy. "No way."

"Way."

Mama howls with delight, shoving various offspring and presents aside until she's able to snatch her eldest child up in an enormous embrace. She kisses Noelle in the same breath she scolds her for playing goalie during broomball. My sister's tough, though. Even pregnant with twins, she owned the fucking boardroom of the Fortune-500 tech company she heads.

"I'm not sure how I can top that," I chuckle, curling my nephews where they each giggle and latch on my forearms. "Open up."

My gift isn't very large. It doesn't take a whole lot of packaging to include a dozen NHL box-seat tickets. Still, everyone titters with glee and I know I've done well by my family. Reece's is the only one that's different.

"Oh my goodness!" Mia gasps as Reece opens the oblong box.

"Girl!" Claude gasps. "That is gorgeous."

I can't even be bothered by Oscar and Gabriel climbing all over me – seriously, why are they well-behaved for their parents?! I focus on Reece's expression where she eyes the necklace.

It was a little thing. I bounced the idea off Kaila, who adamantly approved. The piece is a thin silver chain adorned with a filagree heart and [Reece's birthstone]. Aside from her nose and navel piercing, I know she's not one for jewelry. I think it's because she never had a reason to wear anything. Here's hoping I'm the exception.

"Oh!" Reece's shocked exclamation comes out in a little gasp.

"Here," Sacha stands from the sofa and glides the small chain from her grasp. "Let me."

Reece fists her hair off her shoulders while my eldest brother fixes the necklace. Even in my hoodie – three sizes too big – and fluffy pajama bottoms, she looks goddamn gorgeous. Maybe it's because she's wearing my clothing. Maybe it's her beaming at my family's praise. Regardless, I have to tell her soon. 

I love you.

Or else I might burst.

**

Presents unwrapped, hugs and kisses exchanged, we move right into a week of feasting and fanfare, plowing toward the New Year. Reece becomes part of the Killfeather clan, laughing and joking with Mama and my sisters. She accompanies them on the annual girl's-day spa visit, comes back with her nails painted. Black, of course. I notice she and Claude develop inside jokes and cast each other knowing looks. I'm glad to see them connecting.

Tonight, though, is for us.

We stand hand in hand on the ferry toward Dorval Island. Lights from the village glitter against the St. Lawrence River. Our vacation is coming to a close and this is the last piece of my hometown I want to share with her.

"Oh wow," Reece breaths as I pay the fare and step off the boat. "People actually live here?"

"It's its own little suburb, yeah." I link my gloved hand with hers, lead her down the snow-covered street. "C'mon."

We pass New Year's Eve revelers in the short walk with cries of "Bonne année". Reece grins and waves back rather than shrinking into my side. The cold can't touch me for the warmth my girl instills in my chest.

The arcade is a little brick building, just like I remember from my youth. It's been refurbished, now, made hipster-chic. There's a full-service bar and food menu, catering to the drunk college crowd. Instead of paying for tokens, you're rewarded with them when you buy a drink. The games still line the walls and center floor, sound effects making a menagerie of music as we stride through.

"Why am I not surprised you spent your childhood here?" Reece accepts the beer and small cup of tokens.

"Because I'm tons of fun?" I palm my own tokens. "This was the one place I could beat my siblings at anything. Other than hockey, of course."

She eyes the machines. "Had lots of practice?"

"Tons."

"Bet you I can beat you in Mortal Kombat."

"Mon belle," I grin, "It is on."

We take up handles at the old gaming rig, plug our tokens in. Reece chooses Chun Li and I, of course, select Raiden. Then she proceeds to handily whoop my ass in a series of button mashing, joystick juking, and adorable squeaks of effort.

"Hah!" She does a little spazzy dance. "Eat my pixels, Killfeather!"

I cage her against the control panel, steal a slow kiss because I can. Reece's mouth laughs against mine as she kisses back, soft tongue darting out to lick my lower lip.

"I like your pixels, Reagan." I growl when we part.

"Sure you do." She gives me this smug little grin that makes me wish we weren't in public. "What other games do you suck at?"

"Putain."

The evening progresses into late night as we drink and game. I don't totally suck at everything, manage to outscore her in Ski-ball and Frogger. Reece just as readily pummels me in Pac-Man, Donkey Kong, and Duck Hunter.

"'murica," she declares as an explanation of why she's so damn good with a gun.

I chuckle, check the clock. "C'mon. One last thing to show you."

"Tired of being beaten by a girl?"

"Babe," I wink, "You know I love getting beaten by a girl."

Claude must have had a conversation with her. Reece's libido has skyrocketed and she's less and less hesitant about the pain she inflicts, the orders she gives, the chokeholds she places. The sex isn't even the best part.

The darkness doesn't steal her anymore. The marks on her skin have healed and nothing new appears. I love her scars, love her strength and resilience. I show her every chance I get; hope I'll be able to give her the words when the time is right. This girl is everything to me.

That's a little scary, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

Nabbing us both flutes of champagne, we ascend the creaky wooden stairs to the rooftop patio of the arcade. Our breath fogs in the frigid night air, breeze biting as it glides off the water. Even with Mia's warm toque, hood drawn, and gloves on, Reece's teeth chatter like a beaver on cocaine.

"Here." I wrap my arms around her, guard against the cold. "I've got you."

"What are you? Part yeti?" She snuggles against my chest and I surge with warmth. "You don't feel the cold."

"I grew up in it." I kiss the top of her head through the layers.

The shudders decrease, eventually disappear. We're alone gazing out at the city of Montreal shining across the water. Guess nobody else wanted to brave the weather for the sights.

"This is pretty." Reece breathes, turns her cold-reddened face up to mine. The chain I gave her glitters at her throat, the pendant hidden under her hoodie and jacket. "Thank you."

"We haven't started yet." I turn her away from the city, face us toward the center of the island. "Wait for it."

A notification on my phone pings, alerting me to the midnight hour. People on the street below light up sparklers, wave them skyward. Then, like clockwork, bursts of color launch from the central park and explode against the stars.

I feel Reece's gasp of delight more than hear it, hold her tighter. Fireworks pop above, cast us in green, red, and gold glows. Fuck if I care about the show in the sky, though. All the brilliance I need is watching rapt in my arms.

The crowd below applauds and cheers as the demonstration reaches a crescendo. A grand finale of arcing glitter and screams of light color the sky. And, before all the sparkle and wonder disappear, I turn Reece to face me.

"Happy New Year," I murmur, handing her the champagne flute.

She blinks in the moonlight, my angel. "Happy New Year."

We tap our glasses in a toast, drink the crisp, bubbly fluid. Then Reece fists the front of my jacket, drags me down to her level, and blows me away with the passion of her kiss.