Page 36 of Love Letters to Christmas

“You don’t like swiss,” Brian says, as though he is supposed to know that. Why would Brian know that? Why can I feel hisparents’ eyes boring holes into my back while they watch us like we’re a sitcom?

Because I am deeply distracted and impossibly stupid, I just look Brian in his pretty face and whisper, “I…don’t?”

His expression softens, then he lifts his handand sets a lock of my hair back over my ear.

At this point, I can only assume we’re pranking his parents. I’m pretty sure Ceres has mentioned this sort of thing before. It’s a trope. A book trope. Thefake datingone. I could have sworn it came with contracts and also maybe consent, though.

Brian turns back to Sol. “She’ll have the strawberry smoothie and a pita sandwich, white not wheat.”

“They get along so well,” Lucia whispers.

Conspiring, Scott replies, “Reallywell.”

“You got it,” Sol confirms. “Anything for…your parents?”

Brian spares his parents a look, and they hold their breaths. He says, “Nah,” then he flattens his hand against the small of my back and sweeps me away to a table in the corner. Pulling out my chair, he presents the seat with a flourish. “M’lady.”

What is going on?

“Th-thank you.” Legs trembling, I seat myself and fold my hands together in my lap.

This man…is making it impossible to keep the focus on myself. Utterly impossible. I should give up. I should just give up. It’s pointless to grow when Brian Single is around.

To make matters worse, he sits right next to me, chair inches from mine. When he sighs, I smell mint toothpaste in the air. It makes me lightheaded. “Brian?” I whisper, his name strained and low.

“Hm?” He plants his chin in his hand.

I wet my lips. “What…are you doing?”

He watches me, gaze enigmatic. “Performing an experiment.”

An experiment? “What kind of experiment?”

“I might tell you later. Might not. Who knows?” He rocks back on the legs of his chair. “I’m unpredictable at best.”

Oh. Okay. Cool… I’ll just wait on that, then.

By the time his parents sit down in the other two chairs at the table with us, Sol’s bringing out our food. Attempting to maintain something akin to composure, I reach for my smoothie straw, take a sip, and find thateveryone—except Sol—is watching me. My heart stumbles around. “W-what?”

Brian’s lips curl first, then his parents’ follow.

“Nothing,” he says.

I cannot shake the feeling that it is very muchsomething, but they fall into an amicable conversation too quickly for me to decode anything more.

Chapter Thirteen

Peace, Joy, and Love.

Brian

So. I harbor affections for Amelia Christmas.

What an unforeseen set of circumstances.

I was nearly positive that bringing her to lunch with my parents would result in something of a cure for the odd thoughts and feelings I began dealing with Friday night. After all, what curesemotionsbetter than your parents teasing you about a relationship you’re not in?

Cooties, maybe.

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