Page 22 of Shut Up and Jingle Me
I take in the wet snow clinging to his lashes, the faint pink at the tip of his nose, and the way his voice dips just enough to make me think he’s not exactly thrilled about the change in plans.
“Sorry,” I say, and I mean it. I know what it’s like to want out and get stuck anyway.
He shrugs one shoulder, as though it’s no big deal, but when he steps closer, the steam from my cup drifts between us. His eyes flick down to it, then back up to mine, and a slow, knowing smile blooms across his face—bright, teasing, and entirely too pleased with himself.
“Is that… a peppermint latte?” he asks, voice warm with mock disbelief.
I press my lips together, holding back the smile that wants to creep in.
“Would I be drinking pure sugar?” I ask, keeping my tone flat, daring him to make something of it.
Eli’s grin turns downright wicked. “Sure smells like it,” he says, leaning in just a fraction, enough that the peppermint steam between us is all him now. “Kinda like you’ve been making out with a candy cane.”
I huff out a laugh, shaking my head, but it’s useless; the corner of my mouth betrays me, tugging upward. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” I ask, more gruff than I mean to, because if he keeps looking at me in that way, I’m going to forget how to stand still. And I’m going to kiss him.
“I did…” He shrugs the sadness coming back. I hate it.
I shake my head, but my eyes linger on him. He’s still got that edge of travel fatigue clinging to him, beanie formed to his head, cheeks pink from the cold. And no joy shining in his blue eyes. Every part of me wants to put it back, make them sparkle with happiness.
“You headed back to the dorms?” I ask.
“Yeah. No point hanging around the airport if nothing’s flying out.” He tips his chin toward the path leading across campus. “They said maybe tomorrow if the storm clears. Until then, I guess I’m stuck here.”
“Guess so,” I say, my breath clouding the air between us. “Hope you at least left some heat on before you left.”
He fakes a smile. “I’m not a rookie, Calder. Place’ll be toasty when I get back.”
I shift my cup from one hand to the other, the words out before I can overthink them. “You, uh… want to grab dinner later? Campus is dead, but the little diner on State is still open. No fun eating alone.”
Eli’s grin blooms instantly, real and blinding, and my breath catches in its brilliance. “Are you asking me out on a date, Calder?”
My mouth opens, then closes. “No—I mean, not like that. I just meant?—”
He laughs, shaking his head and rolling his eyes as if he’s caught me red-handed. “Relax, I’m joking. Dinner sounds good. Text me when you’re hungry, and we can walk over.”
We fall into step without really planning it, our boots crunching over the fresh snow. The path across campus is quiet except for the wind pushing the flakes sideways. It’s…nice. Not the word I usually throw at Eli Starling, but it fits.
By the time we hit the main quad, the crowd from earlier has thinned to nothing. The only movement is the flicker of thelampposts and Eli swinging his duffel from one shoulder to the other.
When we reach the dorms, he slows, blinking up at the building. “Wait—this is your place?”
“Yeah,” I say, shifting my cup to dig my keycard out. “Been here since I transferred.”
He stares for a beat, then lets out a short laugh. “Huh. Guess we’ve been neighbors this whole time and I never noticed.”
“Guess so,” I murmur, swiping us in.
Inside the lobby, the warm air hits us, carrying that faint scent of whatever the dining hall served for lunch hours ago. Eli shifts his bag higher on his shoulder, glancing toward the stairwell.
“Well…guess I’ll see you later then,” he says, casual, but there’s a flicker in his eyes like he’s not quite ready for the conversation to end.
“Yeah,” I reply, nodding toward the elevators.
“Text me about dinner when you’re ready.”
“Will do.”
We split at the hall’s fork—him heading left, me right—our footsteps fading in opposite directions. I keep my gaze forward, but I’m aware of him until I can’t hear him anymore, the peppermint latte still warm in my hand and the faint ghost of his grin hanging in my head.
