Page 24 of Mistletoe, Mayhem & Mr. Grump
"Since when?" I ask.
"Since right now! I make new tradition!" He's bouncing with excitement.
Mr. Jackson has returned and joins in. "Kiss! Kiss!"
"This is peer pressure," I point out.
"This is Snowfall Creek," Holden says, then looks at me with something unreadable in his eyes. "We should probably just get it over with."
"Very romantic," I mutter, but my heart's already racing.
"I'm not good at romance," he admits quietly.
"You're doing okay so far," I tell him as I squeeze his hand.
Instead of answering, he cups my face gently and leans in. The kiss is soft, brief, and completely ruins my ability to formcoherent thoughts. My knees go weak, which is such a cliché, but apparently clichés exist for a reason.
"Beautiful!" Giuseppe cries.
"That looked very real," Mr. Jackson observes suspiciously.
"We're very good at kissing," I say stupidly, still dizzy.
"The best," Holden agrees, looking slightly dazed himself.
We escape before anyone can demand an encore, stepping out into the December cold that does nothing to cool my burning face.
"That was—" I start.
"We should go to the committee meeting," he interrupts, but his hand tightens around mine.
"Right. The committee," I agree, trying to focus on walking in a straight line.
We walk in silence for a moment before he speaks again.
"For the record," he says quietly, "that didn't feel fake."
"It's supposed to feel real. That's the point," I remind him, though my voice comes out shakier than intended.
"Right. The point," he agrees.
"Holden?" I ask.
"Yeah?"
"The committee is in the other direction," I point out.
"I know," he says, but doesn't change course.
"Where are we going?" I ask.
"I have no idea," he admits. "My brain stopped working about two minutes ago."
"When Giuseppe demanded we kiss?" I guess.
"When I actually did it," he corrects.
We stop walking, standing in the middle of the sidewalk like idiots while snow starts to fall around us.
