Page 74 of Holiday Hostilities

“I’m glad it’s been good publicity for him,” I say. And I mean it.

Our plan seems to have worked—Brandi has made herself scarce the rest of the evening.

And, after the auction concluded, Aaron introduced me to Dennis and Bonnie Lieberman, who were nice, if a little snooty.

We chit-chatted for a few minutes, and Dennis looked impressed when I informed him that I’m Jake Griswold’s sister. Before he swept off to talk to the Cyclones’ coach—who was passing by holding two towering plates stacked with hors d’oeuvres—Dennis nodded at Aaron and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Well kid,” he said solemnly as he looked Aaron up and down. “As long as you keep your love life out of the media from now on, we should be on a better trajectory. Don’t drop the ball, because no matter how much Coach Torres might sing your praises, I, for one, would like to have a captain in place who has a respectable reputation that aligns with our family-friendly franchise.”

It wasn’t praise, exactly—it honestly sounded like awarningto me—but Aaron looked almost relieved as he smiled and said, “No worries there, Mr. Lieberman. I plan to date only Olivia from here on out, and I’m sure the media doesn’t care to discuss our boring old monogamy and commitment to each other.”

This made Lieberman harrumph with pleased laughter, and made me almost choke on my drink. It was obviously a line, but dammit if it didn’t give me butterflies.

After Lieberman departed, Aaron yanked me onto the dance floor and we’ve been here ever since, dancing the night awaywith the team. Aaron stays close to me, and even when we’re all dancing as a big group, he’s by my side.

Jimmy, as it turns out, is an extremely accomplished dancer. The man has busted out the foxtrot, merengue, and a full-blown waltz in between bouts of twerking. I bump hips with Reagan and give her a twirl, but then the music dips, and the DJ announces the last song of the night.

The upbeat Christmas song that was playing fades into a slow, smooth, sultry beat.

My heart feels full as I watch Jake pull Sofia into his chest, whispering something in her ear that makes her laugh. Maddie loops her arms around Seb’s neck, gazing up at him like he hung the moon. Triple J wastes no time whisking Reagan into his arms.

I, meanwhile, decide this is a great time to go and get a glass of water. I turn around and find Aaron standing directly behind me. His eyes are full of a raw intensity I’ve never seen before as he steps forward, looking like an absolute snack in that tux of his.

He holds out a hand. “Dance with me, Olivia.”

In true Aaron fashion, it’s a statement, not a question. And I’m here for it.

I take a step forward slowly, almost cautiously. But he catches my elbows and gently pulls me towards him so that my body is flush against his.

“That’s better,” he says as he looks down at me, mouth quirked.

“Mmpf,” is all I manage in response.

His body is warm and solid, and his hands drag up my arms before they make their way down my back, finally anchoring at the base of my spine. I suck in a shaky breath as his fingertips slowly, purposefully, draw tiny circles on my bare skin.

We begin to move together, swaying to the song. My entire body is taut with anticipation, yet strangely at ease in his arms.

Aaron’s green gaze stays on me, tracking over my eyes before dipping down to my lips, which automatically part.

His own breathing is labored, and I can feel his heartbeat throbbing against my body where we’re touching.

He looks at me for another moment, like he’s considering, before he slowly—almost hesitantly—leans down and touches his forehead to mine. It’s a gesture that seems entirely more intimate than it should.

“Have I told you how incredible you’ve been tonight,” he says. Another statement. I can smell the mint on his breath and I swallow, my head swirling and my skin hot and tingling. My insides almost ache with something akin to longing.

We stay like this, so close yet somehow still so far, orbiting each other as the song goes on and everything else fades into the background. I’m hyper aware of the heat of his body, the incredible scent of his cologne mingled with that distinctive Aaron smell I always catch on his sheets.

“I don’t want the night to end yet,” I admit.

“It doesn’t have to,” he replies, and the implication makes my stomach swoop dangerously.

“More slasher movies?” I tease, my heart pounding in my throat.

“Mmm.” His fingers are still drawing torturous circles on my skin. “Maybe a game of dirty word scrabble or two.”

“I like the sound of that,” I tell him as the song comes to an end and the lights begin to come up.

Aaron peels himself away from me, almost regretfully. “Well then, let’s get you home, Miss Olivia.”

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