Page 33 of Shut Up and Jingle Me
I’m not about to act on it, though. Not like this, not when morning light brings clarity I didn’t have in the dark. Because the truth is, we jumped in fast. Too fast. And if I’m not careful, I’ll ruin whatever this is before it even has a chance. Not that it actually has a chance. What we did is against all of the rules. It could get me tossed out of school, kicked out of my program, fuck it could ruin my whole life.
I stare at the ceiling, trying to ignore the ache low in my body and focus instead on the rise and fall of his breathing. I peek back down at him. He’sadorablelike this, mouth parted slightly, lashes resting against his cheek. His hair’s a mess, his cheek flushed from sleep, and the way he’s clinging to me—like I’m the only solid thing he’s got—it twists something in my chest I don’t want to look too closely at.
My hand’s still on his back, holding him without realizing it. I should move. Wake him up, untangle us, put distance between us before he opens those eyes and makes me forget every good reason I’ve got to slow down.
But I don’t.
I tighten my arm around him instead, just a little, as if I can steal a few more minutes of this before reality sets in.
I’m just starting to convince myself to move when Eli stirs. His nose scrunches against my chest, he makes this tiny humming noise like a cat stretching in a patch of sunlight, and then his eyes blink open.
And just like that, he’s smiling.
Like it’s hisdefault setting. Sleep-mussed hair sticking up in three directions, no heat in the room—but he looks at me as though the morning itself is a gift.
“Morning,” he says, voice still scratchy from sleep but bright as hell.
“Mm,” I grunt, because words feel dangerous right now.
He props his chin on my chest, blinking up at me. “That’s all I get? Just ‘mm’? I wake up in your arms, Calder. You could at leastpretendyou’re happy about it.”
“I’m freezing my ass off,” I mutter, though my arm tightens around him without my permission. “That’s what I’m thinking about.”
He grins wider, undeterred. “Oh, sure. Not the guy keeping you warm. Just the lack of heat.”
“Exactly,” I say, trying to keep my face straight.
“Liar.”
The word comes with a smug little smirk, as if he’s already won some unspoken game. He props his chin higher, blue eyes practically glowing.
I glare down at him. Or try to. Hard to glare when his hair is a mess, his cheeks are pink from the cold, and he looks likethis. “You think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?”
“I know I do,” he says easily. “You’re grumpy in the morning, secretly like being cuddled, and you only pretend to hate sugar because you’re jealous of how good I look licking whipped cream off my lip.”
I choke on a laugh, shaking my head. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet,” he drawls, tapping his finger against my chest, “here you are. Still holding me. Almost like you don’t actually want to let go.”
I should shove him off, roll out of this bed, get my head back on straight.Should.Instead, I tighten my arm around him, my hand spreading against his back, pulling him closer, as if I really can’t let go.
“Don’t get used to it,” I say, but my voice comes out softer than I meant it.
His grin says he knows it.
God, this is dangerous. I like him. More than I should. More than makes sense for one night and one kiss in the snow. He’s supposed to be an athlete I’m helping keep in shape, someone I should keep a line with. And instead, he’s pressed against me, warm and smiling, as if I’m not already thinking about kissing him again.
Like I’m not already halfway gone for him.
Eli shifts against me, propping himself up on one elbow so he’s looking down at me. His hair sticks out in every direction, and his grin is pure trouble.
“Speaking of whipped cream,” he says, like we were actually talking about it a second ago, “do you think the coffee shop off campus lost power?”
I blink at him. “You wake up and that’s your first thought?”
He nods solemnly. “Absolutely. Priorities, Calder. Peppermint latte with whipped cream, that’s survival.”
I huff out a laugh before I can stop it, dragging a hand over my face. “Unbelievable.”
