“Only because my Buddy the Elf Christmas spirit will rub off on you. How could you come tothisevery year”—she waves her arms around us—“and still act like a Grinch? It’s almost criminal. You should just throw yourself in jail every Christmas season.”
She’s laughing, her arms twisting around my shoulders, her fingers sliding up to tickle the hair at the base of my skull. I place my hands on the dip between her waist and hips, and my tongue loosens up as a truth slips from me.
“Trust me, there were times I would have rather spent the holidays in a jail cell than be here. I realize now that it was only because I wasn’t with you. I never want to experience Christmas without you ever again.”
She presses her lips into a tight line, her throat bobbing with a heavy swallow, the slightest sign of emotion shining in her eyes, before she replies, “I don’t want to spend another Christmas without you either.”
“Come on.” I lead her through the crowd of people, making sure to peer over my shoulder and give her a smile.
“I like this look on you, Lukie Bear.” She giggles as I roll my eyes at the nickname.
“What look, Cupcake?” I ask once we take our place in a long line in front of the hot chocolate truck.
Olivia is staring up at me, a shy smile pulling on the corner of her mouth, a hint of red showing on her cheeks. “Like you’re not carrying as much weight on those big shoulders of yours. I’ve never seen you smile this much.” Her voice is sticky-sweet, like the honey cakes she makes.
I remove one of the gloves from my hands so I can cup her cheek, rubbing her skin with the pad of my thumb. Her eyes flutter, goosebumps appear on the exposed skin of her neck, and her breath hitches. It’s all the courage that I need to be honest with her.
“I’ve never fake-dated you before.”
“So you’re smiling so much because you’re fake-dating me?” she questions.
I stare at her, trying to figure out her body language. She hasn’t moved away from the hold I have on her, but her hands on my waist have loosened their grip, and her eyes dart over my face as she waits for my response.
I ponder on which answer I should give her, because I’m unsure of how much I should share or how I can avoid baring my entire heart and deepest secret to her. Eventually, I need to tell her the truth, but I want to have that conversation once we’re back home.
I’m thinking about backing away to give us both some space before I do something that could potentially scare her off when someone behind us shouts, “Hey, look up, you two!”
Olivia blinks a few times, her lips parting in surprise, and I mimic her, seeing a mistletoe hanging from the light post we’re currently standing under. It feels like a sign from God himself,giving me the okay to pursue this. After all, He taught me that the truth will always prevail.
I lean in toward her, my gaze moving down the slope of her nose, landing on her perfect lips. I bring my mouth toward hers but stop before they can touch. I’m not going to kiss her. Not until I know it’s what she wants. Right now, I can tell that isn’t the case, because of the way she hesitates, the smallest reminder that she told me not to kiss her this weekend.
It takes all my restraint to move my lips away from hers and place them by her ear and whisper a simple truth.
“It hasn’t been fake. Not for me, anyway.”
And before she can reply, I lean in and kiss her on the cheek, feeling her warmth seep into my chilled lips. As I pull away, her eyes are surprisingly clear and bright. They search mine, back and forth. Her nose scrunches as if she’s pondering what I admitted about my feelings, and I trace my thumb over her jawline before I take a step back and slip my glove back on.
My voice sounds like sandpaper as I say, “Come on, let me introduce you to the best cup of hot chocolate you’ll ever taste.”
Chapter Twenty
Olivia
There was this moment, just between the two of us. His face was so close to mine, and I knew we were thinking about the same thing.Thekiss.Theone that sort of broke us before. It wasn’t in some dramatic, door-slamming, never-speaking-again kind of way. It was quieter than that, filled with awkward silences and weird eye contact.
It was a slow unraveling of everything that used to feel easy between us. I told myself it was a mistake, something we’d never talk about again. And we didn’t. But now, our fake dating has turned into something that feels way too real, and he’s looking at me like he wants to kiss me again.
The terrifying part is that I want to let him. The doubts creep in so fast. I can’t help but wonder if kissing Luke would feel like before? What if it breaks whatever this is—this fragile, unspoken thing we’ve rebuilt? I know, deep down, we’re not the same people we were back then. Maybe this time, it wouldn’t ruin us.
“Is everything okay?” Luke asks, his voice bringing me back to the present.
He hands me my cup of hot chocolate, and I give him a nod, not trusting my voice at the moment because, as I stare into those dark eyes of his, all I’m reminded of is that he admitted that he hasn’t been faking this entire time.
He hasn’t been faking.
His touches, his sweet words, the new expression he has whenever he looks at me…it’s all been real. And I’m not sure what to do with that. If I accept that Luke has romantic feelings for me, then I have to admit to myself that I’ve felt the same way about him.
What would that mean for us?
