Page 63 of UnLucky Christmas
He follows the directions, keeping his eyes on the road while I sing along with the radio. I won’t be winning any singing competitions any time soon.
“Why do you hate all the Christmas cheer?” I ask finally.
His expression grows serious. “I don’t hate it.”
“But you don’t love it.”
He gives a noncommittal shrug. “Definitely not as much as my sister or you do.”
I laugh. “Yeah, we’re a bit over the top. But seriously, why?”
He exhales slowly. “The holidays are different without my parents.”
The GPS instructs us to make a left, and when we turn there are cars lined up along the street. The sky is lit up from the house at the end of the block. Grant pulls up behind a gray van with family stickers on the back window.
“Let’s get this over with,” he says begrudgingly. “You owe me bigtime.”
We get out of the car, and he joins me on the sidewalk.
“You can at least pretend you’re happy to be here,” I say. “You’re going to scare all the kids with that angry expression.”
He plasters a fake smile on his face. I wrap my arms around his arm and then slide my hand into his. As we move closer to the house, the music grows louder. Two people dressed as elves are handing out candy canes. The lights are synchronized with the music and some people even have folding chairs set up to watch. Mrs. Claus is handing out mini cups of hot cocoa, Grant takes two and, we move to an area off to the side. He hands me a cup.
“I can’t believe I’m out in the cold drinking hot cocoa from a tiny cup,” he says with a frown.
“I told you that you’d met your match,” I tease as I take a sip of my cocoa. He follows my lead and finishes it in one gulp.
“Oh, just admit you’re having fun.”
Grant moves behind me, engulfing me in his arms. He rests his chin on the top of my head and neither of us says anything as we watch the light show. We still haven’t kissed, but I know it’s inevitable despite the little game we’re playing. There’s a tiny part of me that wonders what happens after tonight, but I’m trying to remind myself to enjoy the here and now.
“Are you ready to leave?” I ask finally, his arms still around me.
“Are you?” His warm breath tickles my neck.
“I’ve probably put you through enough torture,” I say turning around and wrapping my arms around his waist. “We can go now.”
He looks down at me. “Do you want me to take you home?”
I lean back and frown. “Not yet. I want to see where you live.”
He chuckles. “Alright, let’s go.”
* * *
Grant’s condois basically what I expected—tidy and minimalist.
“It’s very you,” I say looking around.
He raises his eyebrows. “I’m not sure how to take that?”
“It’s very neat and formal.”
He smiles, walking into the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“A water would be fine.”
I look around the wide-open living room. There’s a dark brown leather couch, a matching chair, a large TV and bookshelves. The kitchen overlooks the living room, making the space feel even bigger.
