“Classic.” He winks. “I like it.”

We get to work, hanging the ornaments, laughing as he accidentally drops one that bounces right off a kid’s helmet and rolls under the tree. Liam’s puppy-dog energy is exactly what’s needed right now. No brooding, no emotional walls—just pure, unfiltered excitement. Maybe this day won’t be so bad after all.

Things are actually going smoothly—until a shadow falls across us.

His presence sends a shiver down my spine before he even speaks. “Mind if we swap?”

The tinsel in my hand freezes mid-loop. Turning slowly, heart sinking, there he is. Ethan—in all his brooding glory.“What are you doing here?”

A casual shrug, but the tension in his jaw gives him away. “Thought I’d help.”

Liam, oblivious to the undercurrents between us, grins like the golden retriever he is. “Sure, man! Take my place. I’ll go help the kids with the giant star.”

My eyes close as Liam disappears, leaving Ethan standing there with his hands shoved in his pockets, looking every bit like he’s been battling with himself the whole time and just lost.

Too late for thawing.

I cross my arms. “Didn’t think you wanted to be seen with me.”

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t leave. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Sure sounded like you did.” I make no attempt to hide the sarcasm, and yet, he still stands there. Biting my lip, I turn around and go back to work.

Decorating continues in strained silence, the tension between us thicker than the garland on the tree. Ethan tries to help, our hands brushing as he hands me stuff. I hold in the littlethrill running through me, until he leans over to help with the top branch beyond my reach. His crotch brushes my ass.

Finally, it’s too much. The mini hockey jersey in my hand gets slapped onto the tree with more force than necessary before I turn to him. “Why are you here, Ethan? I don’t want you following me around.”

He meets my gaze, and there’s something soft in his eyes. “Because I don’t want to mess this up.”

Those words land harder than expected, knocking the wind out of my frustration. “Mess what up?”

“This.” His voice is quiet, but there’s weight behind it. “Whatever this is.”

For a second, the world tilts.Ethan, talking about feelings?This feels like an alternate reality.

My defenses start to crumble, just a little. “Ethan, you don’t get to just show up and expect everything to be okay. You don’t get to flip-flop like this.”

“I know,” he says, stepping closer. His hands reach for the garland but freeze, fingers flexing. “I’m not used to this. Opening up. It’s crazy, and I thought about it, but you being mad at me is scarier.”

“I scare you?”

He nods. “And you also pull me in,” he steps closer, the tension between us shifting. “I’m just ... I don’t know how to balance this. Us. Work. Everything.”

For a moment, the noise of the arena fades, and it’s just the two of us, standing in front of a half-decorated tree, caught in this weird limbo betweenwe’re more than coworkersandwhat the hell are we doing.

“I get it,” my voice is softer now. “But if we’re going to make this work, we need to figure it out together.”

“I know.” He sighs, his breath warm in the chilled air. “I’ll do better, I promise.”

Those words crack the last bit of ice, the raw honesty catching me off guard. The fight drains, replaced by something warmer, something hopeful. He steps even closer, his eyes holding an intensity that makes it hard to breathe.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

Before another word can be spoken, his lips are on mine, soft yet insistent. The noise of the stadium, the chatter of kids and families, all of it fades into the background as the world narrows to just us. The warmth of him, his touch sparks thrills through my spine, I wrap myself around him, angling my head to give him better access to my lips—the walls have come down.

Loud footsteps round the bend We break the kiss and I pull him behind the tree just in time to avoid being caught by a group of kids dragging more tinsel toward us.

Stifling a giggle, I mumble. "We can’t get caught here.”