Page 40 of Snow Much Trouble
"I can't sing," he warns. "Like, I really can't. My brothers have banned me from karaoke nights."
"Then what are you doing?" I ask, even as I kind of want to swoon.
"Making a fool of myself for you." He pulls me close and starts singing along to the music, and he wasn't kidding—he's terrible. Off-key, off-rhythm, but singing with his whole heart like it's the most important performance of his life.
I start laughing, I can't help it. Here's this confident, successful man who literally makes bourbon for a living,completely butchering a Christmas song in front of a crowd of strangers. For me.
"You're…kind of ridiculous," I tell him.
"I know." He spins me around, nearly taking out the keyboard player. "But I'm ridiculous about you."
The song ends and Dylan dips me dramatically, which gets a huge cheer from the crowd. When he pulls me back up, we're nose to nose, both of us breathing hard.
"I'm scared," I admit quietly, so only he can hear.
"Me too. I deleted all my dating apps because I thought I was done trying. Then you showed up and threw snowballs at me and mocked my bourbon and made me feel more alive than I have in years."
"Your bourbon does taste like poor decisions."
"But this? You and me?" His thumb brushes across my cheek. "Easiest decision ever. Write your song. Be brilliant. But let me take you to dinner. Let me be there when you play your music for people. Let me see where this—where us—goes."
The snow is falling harder now, coating everything in fresh white powder. The crowd is watching us with collective bated breath. Janet and her band are grinning like they've just witnessed the plot of their new favorite rom-com.
And Dylan is looking at me like I'm the only person in the world.
"What if it doesn't work?" I whisper.
"What if it does? I’ve spent the last few years surrounded by people and I’ve never felt so damn alone. But alone with you, the last thing I feel is lonely."
Oh, God. I’m in love with him. It’s crazy, it’s insane, but I am.
I think about the past two days. The way he kept the fire going all night so I wouldn't be cold. The way he listened to me talk about my dreams without judgment. The way he made me laugh and challenged me and kissed me like I was precious.
The way he just sang the worst rendition of "Silver Bells" in human history because he wanted to show me he was willing to look foolish for me.
"Okay," I say.
"Okay?"
"Okay, let's see where this goes." I grab the front of his hoodie and pull him down for a kiss. "But I'm warning you that I'm going to be stressed about this song for at least another week."
"I can handle stressed. I just can’t handle not seeing you again." He kisses me again, deeper this time, and the crowd erupts in applause.
When we finally break apart, Janet is wiping tears from her eyes. "That," she announces into her microphone, "is what Christmas is all about, folks!"
The band launches into another song, and Dylan and I climb down from the stage. He keeps his arm around my waist as we walk through the market, and it feels right. Natural. Like I don't have to choose between my dreams and taking a chance on something real.
My phone buzzes with a text from Avery.
Did you just go VIRAL at a holiday market?!?!?
"Oh no," I groan. "Someone posted us up on stage."
Dylan peeks at my screen and grins. "Good. Now everyone knows you're taken."
"Taken? We've been officially dating for approximately three minutes."
"Best three minutes of my life." He steers us toward the hot cider stand. "Come on. Let me buy you something warm to drink. That doesn't involve marshmallows."
