Page 36 of Christmas With the Jerk

“Maybe,” I say with a grin, adding a pinecone to my wreath. “But you have to admit, it’s better than sitting upstairs doing nothing.”

Thorne glances around, watching as families laugh and chat around the table, the warm glow of the Christmas lights reflecting off the ornaments. For a moment, his expression softens, and I can tell he’s starting to relax, too. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

We work in silence for a few more minutes, and I can feel the tension from earlier melting away. There’s something oddly comforting about the simple task of putting together a wreath, of focusing on something other than the shitstorm.

I glance over at Thorne, and to my surprise, he’s actually putting some effort into his wreath. It’s not half bad either. His branches are neatly arranged, and he’s adding little touches like red ribbon and berries.

“You’re a natural,” I say, smirking.

“Don’t push it,” he mutters, but there’s a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

We finish up our wreaths, mine turning out a little more chaotic than I intended, but still festive. Thorne’s, surprisingly, looks professional. I smile at the sight of him putting in the effort, and he catches me watching and raises an eyebrow.

“Don’t say it,” he warns.

“I wasn’t going to,” I lie, biting my lip to suppress a grin.

He stands up, stretching a bit, then glances over at a table across the room where a large punch bowl of eggnog is set out for the guests. “You ever tried eggnog?”

I wrinkle my nose. “Not a fan.”

He smirks, stepping toward the table. “I bet you’ve never had real eggnog. Come on, try it.”

“Thorne, seriously, I’m not a huge milk fan.”

He’s already ladling out two glasses, walking back toward me with a confident swagger. I take the glass he hands me and stare at it like it’s something foreign. He gives me a look that says,I dare you.

I take a cautious sip, fully prepared to hate it but it’s surprisingly good. Creamy, with a hint of nutmeg and cinnamon, and just enough warmth from the rum to make it feel like Christmas. It’s a little thick but it tastes really yummy.

“See?” he says, smug. “Told you.”

“Okay, fine,” I admit, taking another sip. “It’s not bad.”

We settle by the fireplace, the heat from the flames warming my face as we sit back and watch the lobby buzz with holiday cheer. The smell of pine and cinnamon mixes with the sound of Christmas music, and for a second, I almost forget we’re stuck here.

As I’m about to take another sip, someone steps into the middle of the lobby and announces, “Snow tubing in the back courtyard! Anyone who wants to join, we’re starting in ten minutes!”

Thorne’s eyes light up, and I barely have time to register it before he’s on his feet, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. “Now that sounds like fun.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “I didn’t bring clothes for that.”

He looks back at me, still grinning. “Don’t fall, then.”

“Very funny,” I say, rolling my eyes.

But he’s already heading toward the courtyard door, then turns back, teasing me with that smirk. “Come on, you’re not going to sit this out, are you? I thought you were the girl who grabs life by the horns?”

I glance at the window, seeing the snow falling hard and fast outside. It’s freezing out there, and I’m definitely not dressed for tubing in the snow.

“I need my heavy coat and hat,” I say, standing up reluctantly. “Give me five minutes.”

Thorne laughs, shaking his head. “Alright, go get bundled up, but don’t take too long. Actually, I’ll come with you to get my down jacket.”

I make a quick dash to my room, and I throw on every piece of winter gear I brought, layering up with my thickest sweater, coat, gloves, and wool hat. When I walk back into the hall, Thorne is waiting by the door, already dressed in a thick, dark down coat, looking surprisingly ready for this impromptu adventure.

“Ready to freeze your ass off?” he asks, handing me a pair of thick mittens. “I happened to pack two pairs. You never know when you might need to go tubing.”

I laugh, slipping them on. “I was born ready.”

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