D E R E K ' S P O V

I didn't plan to wake up on Christmas Eve with a raging hangover, but here I am.

Groaning at the pain in my head when I roll my head on the pillow, I slowly blink my tired eyes open to find Layla sound asleep on my chest.

I touch my lips to her forehead. "Good morn—"

Layla reluctantly pries one eye lid open, scowls at me like even speaking to her before nine a.m is a crime and places her hand over my mouth before I can even finish my sentence. Clearly I'm not the only one suffering from a hangover this morning.

But that's nothing a couple aspirin and some coffee can't solve and I'll have to get her some before Layla will even as much as consider waking up, let alone talking to me.

So I carefully roll her off of me and tuck the comforter around her. I suppress my laughter when she doesn't stir one bit.

I stand up and yawn when I stretch my body out. When my eyes begin to focus again on my arms stretched out over my head, I pause when I see what I'm wearing. Christmas jammies. Red and green striped pyjamas with little gingerbread men across the print. When I look back towards Layla in bed and see her wearing a matching pair, last nights antics all come flooding back to me.

After Adam and I left the gym last night we stopped at a bar for a beer. The weirdness he felt about me dating his sister all melted away and the topic was almost forgotten about when we got to talking, and one beer turned to ten.

And when we eventually semi stumbled back to Layla's dads house, her dad was already in bed and we found Layla and Violet in the living room watching Christmas movies. Layla was already several glasses of wine deep and pounced on me the second she saw me, ushering the matching pyjamas into my hands.

The alcohol in my system was the only reason she convinced me to wear these pyjamas. I swear. It's not like I can't say no to her because I absolutely can. I can. I can.

Last night is all coming back to me now. Violet was the sober instigator and I refuse to confirm or deny that she convinced me to do a karaoke rendition of Mariah Carey's all I want for Christmas. On a side note, I will be stealing everyone's phones at some point this weekend and deleting the videos. That aside, it was a great night.

But now when I eventually drag myself down to the kitchen, I realise I probably should have changed first because Layla's dad is sitting at the kitchen table and is definitely going to mention my pyjamas.

"Morning," His eyes lift from the newspaper in his hands to me. "Coffee is in the pot."

I'm waiting for a comment and I'm pleasantly surprised when one doesn't come. I fully expected him to make fun of my gingerbread men Christmas pyjamas, but he doesn't say anything and focuses back on his newspaper.

"Thanks," I move past him and pour two mugs of coffee. "Do you have any aspirin?"

"Hungover?" He laughs and nods behind me. "Top right cabinet."

I wince. "Did we wake you last night?" Now that the alcohol isn't clouding my voice level, I don't know how he couldn't have heard us all. At one point all four of us were practically scream singing jingle bells and we laughed so much I feel like I did three hours of ab workouts yesterday. When he nods, I wince again. "Shit, I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He folds over his newspaper and smiles when he stands from the table. "My kids sounded happy. That's all I care about."

I laugh. "That's a positive outlook on three drunk idiots keeping you awake half the night."

"You can say that again," He chuckles as he places his empty mug in the sink and grabs his keys from the countertop. "Okay, I have to go to work. See you later?"

I nod when I place a bagel for Layla in the toaster. "Sounds good."

He pauses by the door. "Oh and Derek? One more thing."

I look towards him. "Yeah?"

"Do you know the muffin man?"

I burst out laughing. I knew I wasn't getting away without the pyjamas being mentioned. If you were ever wondering where Layla got her sarcasm from, now you're probably not.

-

"Should I change? I think I should change."

If Layla doesn't get into this car right now, I'm going to forcibly strap her into the seat wether she likes it or not.

"You don't need to change again," I say, prying her hands from the edge of the car door. Clearly, Layla is freaking out a little about meeting my family and this is her way of stalling. This drive is the last thing between her meeting my family. "You look great."

It's been a frantic morning on Layla's part. After I eventually got some food and coffee into her, she all but leaped from the bed when she realised how 'little' time she had to get ready when in fact, she had hours.

Within those several hours there was seventeen different outfits changes and my opinion was asked on which pair of her black boots were cuter, lipstick or lipgloss and if curling her hair or straightening it was more important. My head is fried.

There's a flash of an unusual vulnerability behind Layla's eyes. "What if they don't like me?"

I've never seen her quite this nervous, but I know her so I know once the initial meeting is over, she'll be back to her usual self. "They'll love you," I tilt her chin up and softly kiss her lips with every bit of reassurance she needs right now before I wink teasingly. "And your cute boots."

Layla's shoulders drop when she takes a deep breath. "Okay. Let's go."

I take the slightly longer route over to the south side, which ends up being shorter avoiding all the traffic. But before I know it, I'm guiding Layla through the front door of my childhood home.

I can already hear my mom and sisters voices filtering from the kitchen so I shrug off my jacket in the entryway when I yell out, "Your favorite child is home!"

Layla snickers while I slip her coat off her shoulders. "Of course that's how you would announce your arrival."

"Derek, you're—oh my god."

My mom is the first to step down the hall but stops dead in her tracts when she sees me. Or rather when she sees Layla. My sisters are quick behind her, having the same reaction. None moving with wide disbelieving eyes trained on the girl beside me.

"Oh no, no, no," Layla whispers, timidity moving to half hide behind my body. "Derek, why are they looking at me like that? You told them I was coming.." Her nails dig into my arm so hard I almost wince. "Right?"

I've never brought a girl home before.. or even mentioned a girl to my mom and sisters so the past couple of weeks I was considering how to broach the topic. I came up with nothing so I just.. didn't.

I jazz up the edge in my voice with an enthusiastic shake of my hands when I turn to my mom and sisters. "Surprise."

I don't know what I expected, but for Layla to actually punch me right then and there wasn't it.

For a small girl, she packs a decent punch. I jolt forward and rub my arm. "Ow!"

Desirée snorts a laugh when she hollers, "Hit him again. Harder this time."

Layla looks like she's semi considering her suggestion, but the daggers she's focusing on me dissolve when she turns to the three women at the opposite end of the hall. She takes a deep breath and gives them a uncharacteristically shy smile. "I'm so sorry, Mrs Morgan. I was under the impression I was invited over."

My mom steps forward, still flustered and not believing that this situation is actually happening. "Oh, of course you are." She says, producing a small laugh when she goes in for a hug. My mom glares at me over Layla's shoulder, keeping her tone sarcastic when she says, "And that punch was one hundred percent justified."

My older sister Sarah says hi and hugs Layla next, and I have to stifle my laughter when she gives me an enthusiastic thumbs up over Layla's shoulder and mouths she's so hot to me.

Desirée takes a cautious step towards Layla. "Are you like.." She drops her voice to a whisper. "Mentally stable?"

I throw my hands up. What kind of question is that? "Des, what the fuck?"

Desirée shrugs like I'm the one in the wrong and levels me with a confused stare. "I'm sorry, but there has to be something wrong with her if she's with you."

Layla, who doesn't take offence to that comment, lifts one shoulder when she says, "Other than the voices in my head, I'm completely sane."

Layla is going to fit in with my family just fine. I pinch the bridge of my nose while everyone laughs. "She jokes a lot. You'll get used to it."

I'm quickly forgetten about and not even acknowledged while my family get to know Layla. And just like I expected, the girl who spent forty minutes stalling on coming over here has completely reverted back to herself in seconds.

"Holy shit," Desirée gasps in awe, gawking at Layla's phone when she shows her a picture of the vanity I got her her Christmas. "He built you that?"

I immediately feel under fire when both my sisters attention turns to me. Sarah scowls at me when she crosses her arms over her chest. "You've never built us anything like that."

I offer them nothing but a thumbs up. "You should try ikea. Great prices."

It's been a couple months since I've been home and I'm on the go so much I don't really have time to think about it, but there's nothing like a hug from my mom to welcome me back.

I relish in my moms warm embrace and her arms linger around me, smiling so hard she's practically beaming ear to ear. She squeezes me practically tight when she whispers, "Derek, you brought a girl home."

At one point I never even imagined this conversation happening and now that it is, I don't think my mom put the emphasis on the right word in that sentence.

"No, I brought the girl home."

My moms hands move to my face and she squishes my cheeks, her eyes glowing with excitement. "It's a damn Christmas miracle."

I snicker, still keeping my voice low. "I wasn't that hopeless, was I?"

"Oh, yes you were." She tilts my face down to look her directly in the eyes. "Are you treating her right?"

For not having any previous experience in this department, I think I'm doing a pretty good job at this dating thing. But with Layla, it seems like the easiest thing in the world. "Yes."

My moms narrowed eyes let up a little and she taps her hand to my cheek twice. "Good because I'll punch you harder then she did if I find out that you're not."

I laugh and kiss her cheek. I wouldn't put it past her. "It's so good to be back."

When Layla offers to help my mom in the kitchen, I start to follow them but Layla is quick to shoo me. "Go away," She says, shoving against my shoulder. "I want to talk to your mom about your Christmas present."

Other than telling me that I wasn't getting my Christmas present until we were in Chicago, Layla hasn't given me any indication of what it is. And honestly, I couldn't even guess. But whatever it is has my mom sneaking upstairs and attempting to hide something behind her when she comes back down and goes straight back into the kitchen.

I'm not one to ruin surprises so I drop the subject for now while I catch up with my sisters in the living room. But before I know it, we're all sitting down at the dinner table to eat.

"You were so right," Layla says to me, referring to my moms cooking being the best thing she'll ever taste. "I'd move back to Chicago for this food alone."

Sarah laughs when she brings her water glass to her lips and nods towards Desirée. "It's why we live two streets over."

My mom teasingly rolls her eyes when she swats them both with her napkin. "Leeches. I'll never get rid of you."

"I forgot to ask, does anyone have something I could use for a blindfold later?"

I almost choke on my mouthful of food at Layla's question directed around the dinner table. As does everyone else.

Can this day get any better? I rub my hands together when I grin like a fucking cheshire cat. "A blindfold, huh? Let's wrap this dinner up and get going already."

Layla's face drops when she realises what we're all thinking. "Ew!" She all but yells and slaps me. "Ew, ew, ew no. It's so you don't see your present until we're there."

To say ew four times in that sentence was entirely too much. "Ew?" I gasp in offence. "That's funny because you don't say ew when—"

My no filter comment is cut off when Layla kicks me in the shin underneath the table and her eyes narrow to slits. "I will kill you if you even attempt to finish that sentence."

I snicker when the table falls to silence again. "Did I just ruin the family dinner?"

As if all four of them had pre planned it, all four of them bunch up their napkins and throw them at my head. I'll take that as a yes.

Now knowing the non dirty reasons Layla wanted a blindfold, my mom offers her a scarf to use while we're getting ready to leave after dinner.

The last thing I see before Layla ties the blindfold over my eyes is my mom and sisters giving me their nods of approval of Layla over her shoulder, all silently mouthing a mixture of I love her and good job. I have to suppress my laughter once again.

-

"Are we there yet?"

We've been in the car for what I can only guess is an hour at this point and being blindfolded, my only form of entertainment is alternating between asking Layla that question and continuously poking her.

"You are so annoying." Layla huffs an amused sigh and slaps my hand away from her. "Why am I with you again?"

Is that even a valid question? "Because my dick has you in a chokehold."

"Shut up," Layla laughs as I feel the car finally roll to a stop. "We're here."

I have no idea where we are, but Layla guides my step out of the car and until we pass through a door and walk up some stairs. I notice our voices echo like we're in an arena as we walk down some steps and before I know it, we're on solid ground.

"Okay," Layla breathes as her fingers tangle in the fabric around my eyes. "You ready?"

The possibility that we're in an arena has my mind running wild. I hope there's a stage with a pole in the middle and I'm about to have a front row seat to my own personal Layla strip show. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Layla carefully takes the blindfold away from my face and when my eyes adjust to the light, I know exactly where we are because I spent most of my college years here. We're at the northwestern football stadium. All the game lights are on and the field is fresh and empty, waiting to be played on.

"At thanksgiving you said you wanted to be out on the field again," Layla smiles when she steps out onto the grass and spins slowly with her arms outstretched. "Well.."

Football was taken away from me in a blink of an eye because of my knee injury and honestly, I do miss it. Layla took that one passing comment I made and gave me the most thoughtful present I've ever gotten. I'm in awe. "How?" I shake my head in disbelief, blinking at the open field in front of me. "How did you do this?"

Layla turns towards the field and her shoulders drop when she sighs with amusement. "It's amazing what you can get with a pair of tits and some promises."

My arm slips around her when I haul her towards me and tilt her chin up to meet my serious expression. "That better be one of them jokes."

"Alright caveman," She laughs, pecking my lips. "Yes, it was a joke. My dad knows a guy. I swear no slutty promises were made."

I raise an intrigued eyebrow. "Because.."

Layla matches my expression. "Because I only make slutty promises to you."

I grin. "Exactly."

Layla pulls out the bag I saw my mom sneaking from downstairs earlier and she pulls out my old jersey and a football. "Here," She smiles, ushering them into my hands. "Put this on."

By the time I've got my shirt off and throw the jersey on over my head, Layla has dropped her coat and she too is wearing my jersey from Halloween. When she turns around, along with my jersey number, hers now is matching mine with Morgan stitched across the back.

Is she even real? My name across her back turns me on in a way I can't even describe. I never want her to take it off. "Can you fulfil some of those slutty promises wearing that?"

"Yes, if you can catch me."

I'm too busy appreciating how fucking good she looks in that jersey to fully take in what she said before Layla is sprinting towards the middle of the field.

Damn this girl can run. Layla almost makes it to the middle of the field before I catch up to her and we're both laughing uncontrollably when my arm slips around her and I scoop her up into my arms and spin her around.

Before I know it, we're more so rolling around on the grass in the middle of the field than playing football, but it's still the best game I've ever played. We're laughing when Layla attempts to tackle me but I simply pin her arms above her head.

Our chests are heaving. We're so close our lips are brushing but we're both smiling too hard to kiss. It's perfect. This moment is perfect. So I take this opportunity to ask the most important question that has ever past my lips.

"Layla, can I please be your boyfriend?"

Layla's eyes light up with a mixture of happiness and relief that I've finally asked her. Her rosy cheeks are glowing and that breathtakingly beautiful smile stretches across her face when a small laugh passes her lips. "Took you long enough."

I nuzzle my nose to hers. "Is that a yes?"

"Yes, Derek." Layla's hands clasp around the back of my neck and she connects our lips with a kiss. "I'll graciously allow you to be my boyfriend."

We spend the next several minutes enjoying the moment I know I'll never forget. We also make good use of our time here, not playing football, but kissing until both our lips are swollen but I wouldn't have it any other way.

But eventually, Layla sits up and smiles when she throws the football into my hands. "Now let me see you do your thing."

After I set up the ball, I pull back and kick it, watching as it flies through the air and goes straight through the posts. But I honestly couldn't care less about scoring. I care more about how loud my girlfriend is cheering me on from the sidelines.

Merry Christmas to me.

-

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter!:)

I'm sorry this took longer to post than usual, but my life has done a complete one eighty in the past couple of weeks and just trying to find the time to write has been hard. But I'm trying my best to get chapters out as quick as I can🤍