Page 52 of The Nightmare Before Kissmas
“You don’t have to,” I add, arm dropping, voice coming in a tight gush. “I’m good at getting out of responsibilities. My services are at your disposal.”
But Hex shakes his head. “No. I won’t back down.”
That’s… loaded. I almost push him, but he waves for me to lead the way.
I trail Kris out of the tent, Hex behind me, and we part ways at the sleighs.
“Remember,” I call after my brother. “There’s no need to throw a tantrum when you lose. Everyone gets a participation trophy.”
Kris smiles sweetly at me in a way that’s more unnerving than if he’d snapped back with something cutting.
“The fuck?” I frown at him.
“Oh, I just don’t need to exert energy on any more trash-talking. My skills will speak for themselves.”
“Yeah—well—damn it. You took the fun out of it.”
He laughs and jumps up into his sleigh with a parting middle finger.
I take a second to pat the reindeer attached to mine. Being away at school so much means the actual care and training of our reindeer is left to staff, but when we are here, Kris and I both try to stay involved. And even though this guy didn’t lead me to victory last year—or the year before—when he paws at the ground and pushes his nose into my shoulder in recognition, I scratch behind his ears.
“Don’t try to butter me up,” I mutter, but he nudges me again, and I smirk.
“Which one is this?” Hex is next to me. A respectful distance between us.
“Which one what?”
“The song? Dasher, Dancer—”
I laugh. A fog of steam hits the cold air. “They’re not all named after that. We’d have like a dozen reindeer named Blitzen.”
“Ah.” The redness on Hex’s cheeks deepens. Is he… embarrassed?
Holy hell, that’s cute.
God, I’m in trouble.
I vault up into the sleigh and flip on the space heater that’ll make it bearable to be out in the arctic weather.
Hex stays below me for a beat. “They don’t… this is a race on theground,yes?”
“Oh—god, you thought we were flying?” His reservations make more sense now. “No, I swear. We’re forbidden from using magic during the race—ask me how I know.”
My cheesy grin does nothing to soothe him, his neutral expression taking on an unamused twist.
I sober. “All four hooves stay on the ground. I promise.”
He considers. His lips tighten, the color draining slightly under the way he bites them into his mouth.
“What?” I ask, making a concerted effort to not let my gaze linger on his lips again.
“I’m trying to decide if a promise from you has merit.”
“You think I’d lie about the sleigh flying?”
“Yes.” No pause. “Are we or are we not contenders in an alliance with Easter?”
My chin jerks back. “And that means I have it out for you during a sleigh race?”
