Page 45 of Mistletoe, Mayhem & Mr. Grump
"Go away," Holden mumbles into my hair. "We're dead. The blizzard killed us."
"The dead don't knock back," I point out, reluctantly extracting myself from his warmth.
"Maybe it's zombie neighbors. Very polite zombie neighbors who respect boundaries," he suggests, pulling me back down.
The knocking intensifies, now accompanied by Finn's voice: "I know you're in there! Your terrible rug is visible through the window!"
"My rug is not visible from outside," I protest, then realize what that means. "Oh god, the power's back on."
"And the blinds are electric," Holden adds, suddenly very awake. "And they're probably open."
We both freeze, processing the implications. Then we're scrambling for clothes like teenagers whose parents just came home early.
"Where's my sweater?" I hiss, grabbing what turns out to be Santa's judgmental face.
"Which one? You were wearing the entire sweater section of Target," Holden reminds me, hopping on one foot while trying to put on pants that might be inside out.
"The top one! Or bottom one! Any one that doesn't have googly eyes," I specify, throwing clothing around frantically.
"WREN!" Finn's voice carries through the door. "I can hear you doing the walk of shame shuffle! Open up!"
"It's not a walk of shame if I'm in my own apartment," I yell back, finally finding something that passes for decent coverage.
"It is when the whole town saw your silhouettes last night," June's voice adds helpfully. "Very artistic shadows, by the way. Like a Christmas card gone wrong."
"The whole town?" I squeak, looking at Holden in horror.
He's managed to get dressed, though his shirt is definitely backwards, and he's wearing one of my socks with candy canes on it. "How many people exactly?"
"Well, there was me, June, Giuseppe, three members of the Christmas Committee, and Mrs. Chang with her binoculars," Finn lists cheerfully through the door.
"Why does Mrs. Chang have binoculars?" Holden asks, still struggling with his shirt.
"Birdwatching," I explain weakly, finally opening the door.
Finn, June, and, inexplicably, Giuseppe crowd into my apartment, bringing cold air and the judgment of the entire town with them.
"Birdwatching," Finn repeats, grinning wickedly.
"Some rare species appeared last night," June adds, already taking mental notes. "The Tangled Lovers, I believe. Very rare in Vermont."
"We were conserving heat," I say with as much dignity as possible while wearing a sweater inside out.
"Is that what we're calling it?" Giuseppe asks innocently, his hands gesturing wildly. "Because from my restaurant, it looked like you were creating heat. Much heat. Passionate heat!"
"Your restaurant is six blocks away," Holden points out, finally getting his shirt the right way around.
"I have expert eyes," Giuseppe says proudly. "Eagle eyes! Romance-detecting eyes!"
"Everyone needs to stop having eyes," I declare, sinking onto my couch.
"Too late for that," Finn says cheerfully, making himself at home in my kitchen. "The whole town's talking. Delia's called an emergency committee meeting."
"Emergency?" Holden asks, sitting beside me. "Is it a committee thing?"
"Everything's a committee thing," June explains while pulling out her notebook. "So, how would you describe last night's activities? For the record."
"For the newspaper?" I ask, horrified.
