Page 89 of Holly Ever After

I smirk, pulling out a long, red ribbon from the envelope. “Not in the slightest. Prepare to get cozy.”

I tie the ribbon around his thighs and intertwine the loose ends around my own.

His hard stare prevents me from staying still for more than a few seconds.

As we take our first awkward hop, I feel his leg brush against mine. Then again. I force my gaze away, focusing instead on the ground directly in front of me. But it's so hard to keep my eyes away. Especially when I can feel his boring a hole in the side of my face.

I mean, look at him. Tall, built, commanding. His broad shoulders. His strong jaw. The way he can hold himself with such confidence.

It's not fair.

My face flushes red at the thought. What the hell is wrong with me?

His arms hang at his sides, his jaw tight.

“It's getting dark. We need to hurry.”

And I need to get the hell away from you.

My head fills with the scent of his cologne. Whatever it is, it smells amazing.

The clues lead us around Pine Falls, to the bakery where they make the most mouth-watering cinnamon buns, then to the tiny bridge overlooking Frost River where couples are known to make wishes during the holidays. Thankfully, we’re not always tied together. At each spot, I am unnervingly aware of Sean's proximity. The scratch of his stubble, the timbre of his voice, the warmth of his body. It’s a continuous reminder of the nights we spent together.

It doesn’t help that each new place we visit is bathed in memories. I wish I could say the treasure hunt was a good distraction, but it only amplifies the raw tension between us.

Yet, as much as it pains me to admit it, the ease of our dynamic means we solve each clue faster than the others. Even in our current strained state, our teamwork is pretty damn impressive.

His fingers graze mine as we decode the next hint. I force my mind to concentrate on the words. “Beneath where pine and oak trees meet, and snowmen dance to a silent beat.”

Sean squints at the paper. “That’s the forest clearing near the old Thompson barn. They always have those wooden snowmen decorations around this time.”

“We used to play there as kids,” I murmur, more to myself than to him. The memories, much like the unresolved tension, pull at my heart. The clarity of my anger begins to blur, replaced by a warmth I didn't anticipate.

More missteps later, we're outside the maze they build every year for these games.

Yes, they build a damn maze for Christmas games. This town is psychotic. But the first to reach the center, grab the final clue, and make it back, wins.

The walls of the maze swallow the world outside, silencing its exuberance and plunging us into an eerily serene sanctuary. The night's hush is only occasionally disturbed by distant laughter, punctuated by the soft whispers of other people that are in here…somewhere.

In silence, we reach the center with surprising ease, and it’s like stepping into another world. Overhead, the moon shines down on a little clearing, illuminating the snowy ground. Encircling the clearing are tall, snow-covered pine trees, like age-old sentinels guarding a treasured secret. In the center stands an old-fashioned well, its stone rim encased in icicles, with a plush red velvet cushion atop it.

I wasn’t lying when I said this town is a little over the top.

Sean reaches for the clue, breaking the seal, and pulling out a parchment.

“In and out, it's all a game, find your way, or face the shame. The exit’s where you least expect, a wrong turn, and you’ll be wrecked.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Well, that’s... ominous.”

“They never said it’d be easy.”

But the once hospitable maze has morphed into a confounding labyrinth, its arms seemingly reshaping themselves, leaving us to wander its grip aimlessly. The cold doesn’t help; with every wrong turn, our breaths puff out in increasingly annoyed clouds of frost.

“That snowman’s smirking.” I point at a particularly cheeky-looking snow sculpture. “I swear this turn was right.”

“Right as in correct, or right as in not left?”

I shoot him a withering glare. “Sean, unless you’re about to tell me how to get out of here, then keep your mouth shut.”

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