It's here at last, I realize looking over all the Christmas cards and decorations we have throughout the house. Nick is looking at the cards on the mantle, one catching his eye and he studies it carefully. "Who's the kid with Jazz in the photo?"

I get up from my place on the loveseat and look at it, smiling at the small child in the photo. "That's her son, PJ."

"She had a kid?"

"Yeah, in June."
I can see the gears in his mind whirring, trying to figure something out. "Nah," he dismisses, walking to the couch and sitting down.

We've been together since last October, the month after she took off. She told me that he was free game and I snatched him up as mine, any woman in her right mind would. It's funny because she knew I had a crush on him since we met, never really rubbing it in my face and she's avoided him at all costs for more than a year since she found out she was pregger with PJ.

John can be such a kid sometime and today of all days is a prime example, being Christmas makes it okay. When I finally get out of bed, I find both my boyfriend and cousin sitting in front of the tree with their eyes glued to the gifts and I can't help shaking my head at the two of them with a low chuckle. I'm still donning my pajamas and some serious bed head, not ready to open a single present yet. They're wearing the same clothes they put on for bed last night, Nick's hair is just long enough to be mussed by sleep.

"Do you think she's gonna wake up soon?"

"Dunno, but I hope she does, John," Nick admits.

I fold my arms under my bust, leaning on the wall and cross my long lean legs at the ankle with one set of toes pointing at the floor. This is a rare moment because they're getting along, behaving cordially and I want to relish it. "She needs to hurry up and get out of bed," John comments.

"It's getting harder to fight the relentless nagging urge to open all our presents."

"Exactly." A moment of silence passes between them.

"Think she could tell if we just peeked at them?"

"We're talking about 'Lyna, queen of OCD, not someone else," John scoffs, knowing me far too well.

"I guess," Nick sighs, sitting back on his hands and bending his legs so his knees point to the ceiling.

John leans forward in his recliner, anxiously waiting for me to get up like he's done for as far back as I can remember and he releases an impatient huff of air.

"It takes Christmas morning for you guys to even act like you get along?" I tease, standing behind Nick and next to John. I felt like a ninja for a minute or so, only due to walking up on them and neither noticing until they startle before looking at me.

"Don't get used to it," John defends and Nick shrugs, unphased by the verbal retort.

"I think it's so cute," I laugh.

"Shut up."

"So how long have you two been sitting here?" I wonder aloud, glancing between them.

"What time is it?" Nick inquires.

"Ten thirty," I recite, looking at my cell phone's display when I tap its lock button.

"Seven hours," John confesses.

"Since you fell asleep around one this morning," Nick informs us.

"Buttheads," I mutter.

"You said not to wake you up, the only exception being something caught fire, 'Lyna," John reminds me.

"True, but since when have you or him ever listened to me?" I fire back.

"Since you said if we woke you up, we'd both be castrated, babe," Nick retorts with a smirk as he leans his head back to look at me, pursing his lips and silently pleads for a kiss.

I sigh, giving into his request and shriek when he makes me fall. I land on him and they both chuckle, more at my instant of fear than anything else. "Jerks," I grumble, smacking Nick's chest after adjusting myself on his lap.

"I'm sorry, but he motioned for me to do it," Nick defends, outing John.

"And you do what he wants?"

"If I plan on staying on his good side, yeah," he confesses.

Most of today has been full of laughs, loving "Merry Christmas" phone calls and texts and a few odd moments. John bit his tongue numerous time, but he did take the time to open his mind and accept Nick. He sees how happy Nick makes me, now evident because he's looking with open eyes and he's loosened his grip on me metaphorically.