Page 27 of The Bright Side of Christmas
“What the heck?” I murmur. My legs are slung over one arm, my back cradled by his other.
“Do you have a death wish?” Adam asks through gritted teeth.
“What—”
“What are you doing out there?” he grinds out. Finally, I shift so I can see his face, and I notice his jaw is tight. He’smad. I figured he was annoyed or stressed, but the look on his face is definitely anger.
“Hanging decorations, obviously.”
“Everything is coated in ice. You’re lucky I was there, or else you would have snapped your neck.” I roll my eyes.
“You’re being dramatic, I wouldn’t have snapped my neck,” I say, even though I was convinced I was dead just moments ago. We’re moving, but from this angle, I can’t really tell where to, but I need to finish those lights and get on my way. I shift, but he holds me tighter. “Put me down, Adam.”
“No.” There’s finality in the word, and I pull my head back to look at him, blinking slowly. His eyes continue to look forward, jaw tight.
“What?”
“If I put you down, you’re going to just climb right up that ladder again,” he explains. I realize now he’s moving us across his yard and toward mine.
“Yes, because I have something to do.” I can’t move well because he’s holding me still, so I can’t reach my phone in my pocket to check the time, but I can’t imagine I have much more time before my timer runs out.
“No, you don’t.”
“Excuseme?”
“You need to take care of yourself, Wren. You’re going to kill yourself if you don’t. I tried being nice, but it seems the only way I can get through to you is if I fucking manhandle you.”
“I can’t believe this!” I pull a hand back and hit his chest, though it’s hard, and my hit is more like a swat against him. Still, frustration is brewing in my veins. “You don’t know me at all, Adam, much less well enough to be making decisions about what I should or shouldn’t be doing. This is crazy!”
“Well, the people who know you well clearly aren’t getting on your case enough about it if you’re falling off ladders at seven a.m. Why are you putting up their lights?” We’re on my lawn now, and his steps are slowing as he moves up my walkway.
“Mr. Campbell doesn’t have the time. I’m helping him.”
“His car is out front,” Adam growls, frustration clear in the words. I look over his shoulder and confirm that Jed’s car is in fact out front.
I shake my head. “He’s probably still asleep. He works nights.”
“So do you, apparently,” he grumbles, moving up my front steps.
“Heactuallyworks nights. He needs the help, so I gave it to him.”
Adam shakes his head, and when he does, the scruff of his light beard scratches at my temple, sending tingling warmth through me.
Well,that’snew.
“You give people too much fucking credit, Wren, and it allows everyone to take advantage of you.” I don’t like the way his words settle within me. The way they stick a little too close to thoughts and feelings I’ve been burying, the way they too closely align with what Hallie’s been saying, the way they sit sour in my stomach.
But no one is taking advantage of me. If I needed help, everyone would help me just the same. I have the time to help, so I am, just like Grandma taught. His inability to see that and the way he’s twisting up my thoughts turns that sour feeling into anger once more.
With it, I push on his shoulder with both hands now. Again, it does nothing. “Put medown, Adam!” I shout in frustration. I don’t expect him actually to do it, though, so when my legs move to touch ground, they wobble, causing Adam to hold my waist with a firm, warm hand while I steady myself. I push aside how nice that feels, then try to pushat his chest, trying to get him out of my way.
But he doesn’t move.
“Adam, move. I have to go finish the lights before work.” His eyes bore into mine, and I’m stuck in his gaze, unable to look away.
“Why?” The words are spoken so softly, I almost think I'm imagining them.
“What?” I whisper.
