Page 43 of The Grumpiest Elf

CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO

Lydia

Dylan’s questionabout when I plan to return to school put me a little on edge, but fortunately, that doesn’t last long. It doesn’t even put a damper on our evening. His easy reassurance that he wanted to know because he just wants to see me helps a lot, but the fact that he doesn’t bring it up again helps even more.

Ilikethis boy, and I can’t stop being surprised by that fact. I guess he’s a man. He’s twenty-one, after all, going to be twenty-two in a couple of months, compared to my nineteen.

It sounds better to me that we’re only two years apart, nineteen and twenty-one, than when we’ll be three years apart at nineteen and twenty-two, though really the amount of time is actually the same either way. It justsoundsbetter when there are only two digits between our ages.

Probably it’d sound even better if I were out of my teens, but that’s nearly a year away since I just had my birthday last month.

“Well, now we have to have a belated birthday celebration,” Dylan announces as we’re walking to his car after the birthday discussion comes up.

That makes me laugh, which is something I’ve been doing a lot tonight. In fact, I think I’ve laughed more tonight than I have in the entirety of my fall semester. When he’s not doing his best asshole Grinch impression, Dylan’s kind and funny and sweet.

It’s not news, exactly. He was this way last night. But some part of me was vaguely worried it was the magic of the snow and the solitude that brought it out, or his response to the pseudo-emergency we found ourselves in. Not life threatening, but certainly unexpected and not generally considered ideal, even if I did end up enjoying myself.

I like laughing, though, and it feels good to relax. To just … be. To not have to worry that my existence is complicating someone else’s, which, despite my mother’s reassurance that I’m welcome to stay as long as I like, I can’t help feeling since I’ve been here.

This was meant to be her fresh start. And yes, she got a place with a guest room so my sister or I could come and stay anytime we wanted to. But coming to stay for a school break is a far cry from coming to live for an indeterminate number of months. And I know that me coming here has caused even more tension between her and Dad. She’s assured me that I don’t need to worry about it, that Dad’s feelings are his to manage, and she can handle telling him that as many times as needed. But if it weren’t for me, she wouldn’t need to do that at all. Or at least not about me, anyway.

If it weren’t for me, she would’ve made this move years ago, and she could’ve been happy all along.

“Hey,” Dylan says softly, bumping me gently with his body as we walk arm in arm. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Shaking my head and shaking off my thoughts at the same time, I give him a smile. “Nothing. Or, well, I was just thinking about how much fun I’m having with you.”

“Oof,” he says, clutching his chest with his free hand. “Try not to soundsosurprised.”

Laughing again, I pull myself closer to him with my grip on his arm. “Can you blame me? The first time we met, you told me to tone down the cheerful elf routine.” I’d do air quotes with my fingers, but my mittens plus holding Dylan’s arm make that difficult.

He groans and covers his face with his free hand. “Have I said I’m sorry about that? Because I really, really am.”

“Yes,” I reassure him, pulling him to a stop and stepping in front of him. “You did. Remember? It was just yesterday on the way to Hudgins House.”

Another groan from him. “God. That was just yesterday? It feels like ages ago.”

“I know, right?”

One corner of his mouth lifts in a half smile as he meets my gaze under the sparkling twinkle lights festooning the town. Our breath meets in puffs of steam that drift up over our heads. I feel like I belong in a snow globe or on a Christmas card. The deliberately cute downtown buildings and the explosion of Christmas decorations certainly add to the sensation.

“A lot has changed in just over twenty-four hours,” he murmurs.

My breath catches at the look on his face, the tone of his voice. I nod, not trusting my own voice to sound steady. Or like anything other than a croak. I’m not really used to having a guy as sexy as Dylan pay this kind of attention to me. His intense gaze holds mine, though his eyes keep dipping to my mouth like he can’t help himself.

“Are you okay with this?” he asks, still quiet, and it seems fitting in the hushed atmosphere here in front of closed souvenir shops, away from the hustle and bustle of the open restaurants a block over.

My brows crimp. “With what, exactly?”

His smile pulls on both sides of his mouth now. “Us. Dating. Me kissing you. Maybe … more?”

I can’t help the coy smile that claims my lips. “What does ‘more’ mean?”

With a low sexy chuckle, he bends and claims my mouth, his arms wrapping around me and pulling me tight against him. “More as in I wish at least one of us weren’t staying with their parents so we could have a bedroom where we’d be guaranteed not to be interrupted,” he whispers against my ear. Then he’s kissing me again before I can do more than gasp.

The way he kisses me, the way his arm cinches around my waist, his other hand roaming down below the hem of my coat to palm my ass, makes me want more too. Sooner than later. But yeah … where?

The thought of asking my mom to let us have her condo for a few hours makes my face flame with embarrassment, but going back to his parents’—my bosses’—house sounds even worse.

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