Page 103 of 12 Days of Mistletoe

I tilt my head and think. I don’t. And I won’t be making plans with this perfect stranger. Still, I kind of hoped I would have plans. Official, non-fake plans. “Umm…”

“She does,” Elliot says. “With me.” He tugs the plate and lone sandwich from my hand, passes it off to Wayne, and slips his hand into mine. “You can have high school, Wayne. I’ve moved on.” Then, turning to me, he adds, “I promised you a dance. Come No-No.”

He doesn’t need to tell her twice; I think Noel likes Wayne Lloyd as much as Elliot.

With one hand on my waist and the other in his, Elliot pulls me close, swaying on thedance floor.

“Umm, I take it you aren’t a big fan of Wayne,” I say, longing for my last sandwich.

“I’m done tabling.” Elliot’s hand splays on my back and pulls me toward him, and I forget all about my lost sandwich.

“Excuse me?” I swallow.

“Tabling. I am done. I’m over it. I like you, Bonnie.”

I press my lips together, realizing that with my deep new love for cucumber sandwiches, I have missed something important. It’s not that Elliot dislikes Wayne over high school drama—I think my not-so-real boyfriend, just gotfor realjealous.

“Aren’t we finished with fake after today?” I peer up at him.

“Could we possibly be done this second?” he says.

Sure, revisiting or tabling or whatever you want to call it seemed like the smart decision. However, I like Elliot. A lot. And tabling is exhausting.

“So, no more faking it?” I ask.

“No more. I’m going to kiss you because I want to. Not because my sweet, well-meaning gran says I have to follow the rules.”

My lips tickle with a grin. “I’d be totally okay if you kissed me because you want to.”

But he isn’t done. “I’m going to ask you out becauseIwant to be with you. Not because my gran tells me to be with you.”

“I’m okay with that too.”

“Okay, then. What are you doing tomorrow? Because I’m not waiting another second.”

I smirk and trace my fingers over the skin at his collar. “Tomorrow is Christmas,Elliot.”

“Yep, it is, and I want to know what your plans are.”

I swallow and peer up at him. My heart lurches—with love. It’s too quick. I know it is. And yet, I’m pretty sure this is love. I have never felt about another human the way I feel about Elliot James Eaton. “Spending the day with you?” I ask.

“Perfect,” he says, leaning in until his nose brushes mine. We’ve stilled on this dance floor while the world spins around us. But I don’t dare move, because pretending is finished, and a very real Elliot is moving in.

His lips brush mine, soft and sweet, urgent and patient, before swallowing me whole. Pins and needles prick over my skin and butterflies erupt in my gut. Kissing Elliot without any pretenses hanging over our heads feels a whole lot like kissing him with May and Bill scrutinizing. Yep, I think maybe I’ve had the real Elliot all along.

Twelve days isn’t all that long, not even half a month. But yet, it’s plenty of time to fall in love with Elliot.

FORTY-SIX

elliot

DidI jump the gun on ending tabling? Sure.

Do I care? No way.

Whose dumb idea was that anyway? Oh yeah, mine.

As my lips explore Bonnie’s, her warmth, her breath, her sweetness—I regret nothing.

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