Page 118 of Going Viral for Christmas
The Snowflake Gala.
Our next event. Hosted by my publisher:Kiss & Tell Books.
It’s formal. Black tie is not optional. Readers, the Press, and the entire internet are watching. Soren and I will be paraded around as the power couple of the literary world. Hand holding. Smiling. Dancing.
Touching.
Kissing.
My stomach flips. I’m nervous. More than nervous. I’m terrified. Someone is going to get hurt because this thing doesn’t feel fake anymore. I don’t know how much longer I can pretend. Especially when he says things that crack open places I’ve cemented shut, and truly believes I’m worth figuring out.
And Soren’snice.
Before we left Salem, Emily and I took him and Fisher to our favorite little bistro, and Soren ordered me an extra dessert because I mentioned once—once—how much I loved marzipan.
Also, he was supposed to leave that day for an event in Houston, but he rerouted his entire schedule to see the joy on my face when I ate it.
He’s attentive. Kind. Infuriatingly swoony. And somewhere between our snark battles and staged photos, I stopped hating him.
That’s a major problem.
My phone buzzes.Brood Lightyear .
Been thinking about you.
I stare at the screen. My thumbs hover over the keyboard.
Do I answer?
I want to.
But should I?
I’m starting to worry you’re developing a real obsession.
Already had one. It’s named Ava Bell and she’s taking up all the space in my brain.
Gag.
What are you wearing to the Gala so I can match you, like prom?
You mean you’ll actually be in a tux and not cosplaying as a morally gray elf lord?
Don’t tempt me. But yes—bow tie, cufflinks, the whole tortured gentleman fantasy. Unless you’d prefer me in nothing at all?
That’s a blush, Bells. You forget I’ve seen your tell.
It’s the lighting. I’m near a fireplace.
Sure. Let’s talk logistics. Touching okay?
In public?
Were you thinking elsewhere? Like in our suite, later.
Or before.
I’m down for either.
