Page 10 of Merrily Ever After
She reappears a few seconds later with a blanket folded over her arms. “Okay, you’re right. It’s freezing up here.”
“We’ll have to share body heat,” I tell her solemnly, and something flashes across her face too fast for me to catch. She masks it with an eye roll and stomps back down.
“You don’t have to stay.”
“Of course I’m staying. It’s Christmas.”
“Exactly. You’re going to your parents.”
“They’ll understand.” I shrug. It’s the truth. Lara’s basically an honorary member of the family to them by now and I have no doubt they’ll be secretly relieved to have one fewer person to squeeze around the table. Last year we ran out of chairs and I had to sit on a stepladder. “I’ll stay if you want me to.”
“You don’t have to …” She trails off in the most unconvincing tone ever. She wants me to stay. I know she does. It’s why she’s hesitating. She thinks I’m just being nice to her.
“Lara,” I press, and she wavers.
“That would be great,” she admits. “I’ve never spent Christmas alone.”
“Then you won’t. Besides, this is London. There’ll be a million places open for food. We can go into central in the morning. Pretend we’re tourists.”
“I guess that sounds nice.”
Not exactly the enthusiasm I’d hoped for. “But?”
She’s quiet for a long moment, hugging the blanket to her chest. “But I’m really, really tired.”
I switch tracks immediately. “Then we’ll stay put. Get some sleep. Share warmth as previously agreed.”
“Just light a fire,” she groans. “I’m going to change and get some pillows.”
She vanishes back up the stairs, and I wander into the living room, mournfully inspecting all the decorations before I toss a blanket over the demon elf. There are still a few battery-operated lights on the bookcase, so I turn those on next, illuminating a framed photo of the two of us from our university days. We’re sitting on the grass somewhere, squinting into the sunshine, a pizza box between us.
We look so young it hurts.
“Snooping again?”
I turn around, pausing when I see her dressed in yoga pants and an oversized sweater. She’s pulled her hair back with a clip and has added bright blue fuzzy socks to complete the outfit.
She is the most beautiful person on the planet, and it takes me a second to remind myself to be normal around her and not just fall at her feet.
“What?” she asks, looking suddenly self-conscious.
“Nothing.” I flash her a smile. “No fluffy socks for me?”
“You couldn’t pull them off.” She glances at the fireplace. “The fire?”
“Right.” I hesitate. “Yes …”
“You don’t know how to light one, do you?”
“I bet YouTube does.”
Except my phone is dead. I don’t realize it until I take it out of my pocket to check.
“You can charge it with all my electricity.”
“Funny,” I tell her. “You’re so funny.”
“How do you not know how to light a fire?”
