Page 50 of Babies for the Christmas Grump
I tilt my head, the familiar walls I’ve built around myself trying to stay up, even as her smile breaks them down.
“Don’t get used to it,” I murmur, quieter than I expect.
She chuckles, nudging me with her elbow. “I’m pretty sure I’ve already got you figured out.”
I don’t know why, but I want her to keep figuring me out. Want her to keep pulling me toward this, toward this fleeting, perfect night.
I let myself lean back, allowing the rumble of the trolley to soothe the tension that’s always there, the noise of the city and the carolers mixing in a symphony of holiday spirit.
The sort of spirit I don’t think I’ve ever felt before.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Sunny
December 7th
We finally get backto the hotel, and I’m still buzzing with that weird, festive energy that makes me feel like I’m walking on clouds. Like maybe the world’s good for once.
Ryder’s still got that faint scowl lingering on his face, but I’m convinced it’s just his I’m too cool for Christmas persona slowly cracking.
But he’s still walking me to my room, and I can see a smile dancing on his lips.
We’re both a little out of breath from all the joy we’ve been inhaling all day. I should probably say something profound or maybe ask him if he’s ready to admit he had fun today, because I know he did.
But instead, I nudge him as we step into the hall. “You know, you’re way better at this holiday thing than you let on. I mean, who knew you were such a secret pro at ice skating?”
He shoots me a side eye. “I was not a pro.”
“Please. You only fell, like, twice. That’s practically Olympic-level performance in my book.”
I grin up at him, trying to ignore the way my heart’s doing this weird little jump thing every time he looks at me.
“Two falls,” he mutters. “Great achievement.”
I can’t help it. I laugh. “Two falls, a near faceplant, and a magical recovery. You’re basically a Christmas miracle.”
I tilt my head, letting my gaze slide to his face, watching as his lips twitch as he tries hard not to smile. Progress. I’m counting this as progress.
We stop outside my room, and I’m all nerves again. I mean, we’ve had a whole day full of fun and laughter and barely controlled pandemonium, and now… well, now we’re here.
I’m almost afraid that if I say anything more, I’ll break the spell and ruin it.
“So,” I say, running a hand through my hair, because I’m apparently incapable of just stopping when it comes to talking, “this is me.”
Ryder looks down at me, those icy blue eyes of his somehow softer. They’ve finally stopped being all no-entry signs. “I know. I’m pretty sure I can find you a coffee machine on this floor. Just… in case you need one.”
I stare at him for a moment, trying to figure out if he’s being sarcastic or sweet. Spoiler: It’s probably both.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I reply, glancing back at the door.
I should probably tell him to have a good night. Maybe thank him for the whole unwillingly embracing Christmas thing he’s been doing. But my brain’s all fuzzy, and for some reason, I’m not ready to say goodbye.
I hesitate for a moment, my fingers playing with the hem of my scarf. I should be all casual, say something witty and nonchalant like “Thanks for the Christmas magic, I’ll catch you tomorrow.”
But no words come. It’s just… him. Standing there, eyes watching me in that quiet, intense way of his.
And before I can even register what’s happening, he takes a step closer.
