Page 32 of He Sees You When You’re Sleeping

As we approach, I notice a small group of carolers gathered near the base of the tree. Their harmonies float through the crisp air, and I find myself humming along despite my best efforts not to.

Jack notices, of course. “Is that ‘Silent Night’ I hear you humming?”

“Absolutely not,” I deny quickly. “I was just... clearing my throat.”

“Right,” he says, clearly not buying it. “Well, since you’re ‘clearing your throat,’ why don’t we join them?”

I shoot him a look of mock horror. “Join the carolers? Me? I thought you were trying to spread Christmas cheer, not traumatize innocent bystanders.”

Jack laughs, the sound warm and rich. “Come on, it’ll be fun. And I promise to sing extra loud to cover up any, uh, throat clearing you might do.”

Before I can protest further, he’s leading me toward the group. They welcome us with bright smiles and nods, barely missing a beat in their rendition of “Deck the Halls.” Jack jumps right in, his voice surprisingly melodic. I stand there awkwardly for a moment, mouth firmly shut.

But then Jack gives my hand a gentle squeeze, his eyes encouraging. And something in me softens. Maybe it’s the magical lights, or the infectious joy of the carolers, or just Jack’s unwavering enthusiasm. Whatever it is, I find myself opening my mouth and joining in, quietly at first, then with growing confidence.

We stay with the carolers for a few more songs, and I hate to admit it, but it’s... nice. There’s something magical about our voices blending together in the cold night air, with the magnificent tree towering above us.

As we finish “We Wish You a Merry Christmas,” Jack leans in close, his breath warm against my ear. “See? I knew you had it in you, Cindy Lou.”

I elbow him playfully. “Don’t get cocky, Fireman Jack. This doesn’t mean I’m going to start watching Hallmark movies or anything.”

“Baby steps.” He gives me a toothy grin. “But I’d say this is definitely progress.”

We bid farewell to the carolers and continue our walk toward my home, our joined hands swinging between us. The neighborhood seems different now, softer somehow. Or maybe it’s me that’s softening.

“So,” Jack says after a while. “Chinese food and true crime, huh? You know, that doesn’t sound half bad. Maybe we could do that together sometime before Christmas to get us in the spirit. It might be a better date than ice skating and more Christmas cheer in Bryant Park. What do you think?”

I nearly trip over my own feet at his suggestion. He used the word date. A date? With Jack? The idea sends a flutter through my stomach that I’m not entirely sure how to interpret.

“A date?” I echo, trying to keep my voice casual. “I thought your mission was to make me more festive, not corrupt you with my Grinch-like ways.”

Jack shrugs, a lopsided grin on his face. “Who says we can’t do both? We’ll eat Chinese food, watch true crime, and then follow it up with It’s a Wonderful Life. Best of both worlds.”

I laugh at the image. “That sounds... surprisingly appealing, actually.” I pretend to consider it for a moment, tapping my chin thoughtfully. “Well, I suppose I could pencil you in. But fair warning: my commentary during true crime docs can get pretty dark.”

“Wanna know a secret? I happen to like dark,” he says, his eyes connecting with mine.

Jesus. I swallow hard, trying to ignore the sudden spark of electricity between us. “Dark, huh? Be careful what you wish for, Jack.”

He holds my gaze, his expression turning serious. “I’m not afraid of the dark. Or of you.”

My thoughts return to my video on Dark Secrets and how close I came to revealing my true self. The intensity of the moment catches me off guard. I look away, focusing on the snow-covered sidewalk. “Maybe you should be,” I mutter, more to myself than to him.

Jack’s hand tightens around mine, but he doesn’t say anything. We walk in silence for a few moments. I’m not sure why I said that, why I let that little hint of darkness slip out. Maybe it’s the magic of the night getting to me, making me feel more open than usual.

Jack clears his throat. “You know... I’m not all rescuing kittens from trees and running into burning buildings.”

I glance at him, surprised by the seriousness in his tone. “Oh? Secrets too?”

Jack’s expression is unreadable in the dim light. “More than I’d like to admit.”

We’ve stopped walking now as we reach my front porch, standing in a pool of light from the nearby Christmas colors on my hedge. Snowflakes dance around us, but I barely notice them. I’m captivated by this new, mysterious side of Jack.

I study Jack’s face, trying to decipher the meaning behind his words. “Care to elaborate on that, Fireman Jack?

He steps closer, his eyes intense. “I’m not sure you’re ready for that side of me.”

My heart races at his proximity. “And here I thought you were a walking Hallmark movie,” I tease, but my voice comes out breathier than I intended.

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