Page 47 of Offside for Christmas
Cole leaned forward, voice dropping to a register only she could hear. "I could say the same to you."
Ellie broke eye contact first, suddenly very interested in counting her Monopoly money.
Mac noticed, of course. His grin was insufferable.
Lunch prep was even worse.
The kitchen was small—really small—and somehow both she and Cole ended up making sandwiches at the same time, delegated by Luke. Every time she reached for the bread, he was grabbing the mayo. Every time he moved to the cutting board, she needed the knife. They kept brushing against each other, shoulders and arms and once, memorably, his hand on her hip as he reached past her for a plate.
"You're in my space," he said, but he wasn't moving away.
"It's a small kitchen." Ellie focused very hard on spreading mustard with perfect precision.
"Uh-huh."
"Stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?"
She finally turned to face him. Big mistake. He was close—closer than she'd realized—and the look on his face made her forget what she'd been about to say.
"You know what," she managed.
"Maybe I like looking at you." He stepped even closer, and Ellie found herself backed against the counter with nowhere to go. Not that she wanted to go anywhere.
"Cole—"
"Yeah?"
Jamie walked in, took one look at them, and slowly backed out. "I'll just... find sandwiches somewhere else. Carry on."
Ellie and Cole sprang apart like teenagers caught by parents, both laughing despite themselves.
"He's never going to let us live this down," Ellie said.
"Not a chance," Cole agreed.
Movie time was its own special torture.
The team voted on a Christmas movie—Elfwon by a landslide, with Mac doing a dramatic reading of the opening narration—and everyone settled in to watch. The problem was limited couch space and too many people.
Cole ended up on the floor, leaning back against the couch. Ellie got the couch seat directly behind him.
It was fine. Completely fine. They weren't touching. They were being perfectly appropriate.
Then, about halfway through the movie, during the scene where Buddy discovers he's not actually an elf, Ellie found her hand drifting down to play with Cole's hair.
She didn't even realize she was doing it at first—just absently running her fingers through the strands, feeling how soft they were, how he had a slight wave to his hair that you couldn't see unless you touched it.
Cole went very still. Then, slowly, he leaned back into her touch.
Ellie should have stopped. Should have pulled her hand away, maintained that professional distance, remembered all the reasons this was complicated.
She didn't stop.
Neither did he.
And if Mac noticed from his spot across the room and made a very satisfied smirking face, well. Ellie was choosing to ignore that.
