Page 84 of Holiday Hostilities

“Me too.” I grin. “But I’m still not telling you.”

She crosses her eyes at me, and we share a smile before she whines, “Fineeee. But if you’re not going to tell me where we’re going, at least tell me how Jake’s life drawing date went?”

This makes me laugh. Jake’s dreaded date happened this afternoon and I obviously had to stop by his place afterwards to make fun of him mercilessly—uh, I mean, find out how it went.

“You’ll have to ask him yourself because the story will be way, way funnier coming from him. But let’s just say that the woman who won the date titled her finished artwork ‘Jingle Balls.’”

Olivia bursts out laughing. “No way!”

“Way. Jake said that she’s planning on framing it and putting it above her fireplace.” I grin at the memory of his horrified face. “Then Sofia started heckling him, saying she was jealous and she wants to go back there with him so she can paint her own version.”

“That’s amazing.” Olivia howls. “I cannot wait to make fun of him about this for the rest of our lives.”

“I will be joining you on that,” I say, and then immediately want to swallow those words because she was obviously talking about her and Jake’s lives, not her and mine.

Way to be cool, Aaron.

But if I’m being honest, nothing about me is cool when it comes to Olivia.

She makes me feel… different. After a few weeks living together, I know her better than I ever have. There’s this ease about the way we laugh and banter with each other, yet challenge each other, too. Like always, her energy fuels me. I feed off of it, crave it when she’s not around. Shefitswith me in a way that I didn’t think was possible.

Luckily, she seems to miss my complete lack of chill and just chuckles as she stares out the window at the traffic signs while I merge onto the 85.

“We’re not too far,” I tell her, answering her unasked question. “Well, not too far-ish.”

She smiles softly at me. “I can wait.”

I can, too, I realize. Maybe a part of me has been waiting for her, all this time.

Forty-five minutes later, I pull into a parking lot and cut the engine. Olivia looks out the windows into the darkness. “You brought me to a random parking lot in an even more random small town outside of Atlanta?”

“Correct. Except for the random part. It’s not random at all.”

“You researched the best place to dispose of a body without getting caught, then?” She looks up at me with her chin tilted at an angle that’s half the fiery Olivia I know and adore, half downright flirtatious. It’s an all-together new look for me to experience and love on her.

And it’s doing things to me. Like making me have to reluctantly resist the urge to kiss her breathless, right here in the parking lot.

I force myself to stick to the task at hand.

“Not quite that either.”

I get out of the car and come around to her side, opening her door and offering my hand to her. After a second’s hesitation,she accepts, threading her fingers through mine as she climbs out. Her palm feels warm and soft and small as it presses into my hand.

I lead her towards a dimly lit pathway to the side of the parking area. “It’s maybe a little less murdery and a little more Christmassy. Which I know isn’t to your usual taste. But the rule was a festive skating date, so…”

She looks up at me solemnly. “Itisvery important that we follow those iron-clad gala rules.”

“Glad you take the rules as seriously as I do,” I tell her with a snort as we continue down the pathway and around the corner, where the community rink I’ve rented awaits.

I lead her to the edge of the rink, and then, I flip the power on.

All at once, the area around the rink is alight, illuminating the darkness.

“What on earth?” Olivia gapes.

We’re standing at the edge of a seasonal outdoor rink set up in the town’s park—apparently, they set one up every Christmas and use a refrigeration system to keep it frozen in the typically mild Georgia winters. I loved the idea of outdoor skating so much, I booked the entire place for the evening so that we could be alone.

Multi-colored lights and strands of tinsel decorate the canopy overhead, and a light machine casts a pattern of a million snowflakes onto the untouched sheet of ice. The surrounding trees are strung with more lights that shimmer and flicker in the darkness. We’re far enough away from Atlanta’s city lights that the stars are visible overhead, and from the speakers, the opening bars of Coldplay’s “Christmas Lights” begin to play.

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