Page 10 of Decked By The Grumpy Golem
I hope.
Heat floods my skin until I'm surprised the ice of the rink doesn't start melting. I feel absurd. A grown man, a golem, hiding like a schoolboy from a girl he has a crush on.
But here I am, crammed between scratchy branches like some kind of Christmas stalker, watching Lucia settle onto the bench with a soft sigh that carries on the cold air. I can’t see her face from where I am, only her profile and her long brown hair.
Her shoulders sag, and she pulls out her phone with movements that look tired, defeated. The cheerful mask she wore while skating with the twins has slipped, leaving something raw and vulnerable in its place.
I should leave. I should absolutely leave right now, before this gets any worse.
But then she starts talking, and her voice cuts through my heart like a blade.
“Derreck, hi. I’m returning your call.” Silence fills the air as she listens to whoever she called. “Well, your calls.”
“Yes, I know I missed the deadline. I just need a little more time—"
Her head bobs up and down as she listens again, then she shakes her head almost imperceptibly.
"No, I don’t want to cancel the contract. You know that."
Another pause, tighter this time. Her shoulders draw up toward her ears like she's bracing for a blow.
"So, what? You’re saying they’ll sue me if I can't repay the advance?"
My gut clenches. I don't want to hear this, don't want to spy on her private conversation, but the words lodge like splinters in my chest. The pain in her voice is unmistakable, raw and desperate in a way that makes me want to step out of these damn trees and demand to knowwho this Derreck asshole is and why he's making her sound like her world is falling apart.
“Yes, I’ll send you the first chapters by New Year’s. I promise.”
She hangs up, lowering the phone into her lap like it weighs a thousand pounds. For a moment, she just sits there, staring at the skaters gliding past in their cheerful oblivion.
Then her shoulders shake once in a silent sob and she hangs her head down in defeat.
The sight hits me like a punch in the throat. I've seen Lucia angry, defiant, hurt, furious, even. But this quiet despair is something new. Something that twists in my chest and makes my hands clench into fists.
I lean forward without thinking, trying to get a better look at her face, and my boot slips on the tree stand. My weight shifts, and I brace my hand against the nearest spruce tree instinctively. The decorative stand wobbles ominously.
Oh shit.
I try to regain my balance, but it's too late. I feel my body fall victim to gravity as if in slow motion as I fall forward, taking the tree with me. We topple together in graceless tandem, the tree and me, and land with a sickening crash in the snow beside Lucia's bench in an explosion of branches, needles, and scattered ornaments. I’m sprawled on the ground, half-buried in evergreen chaos, snow burning cold against my overheated skin where it seeps through my jacket.
For a moment, the square goes silent except for the distant sound of skate blades on ice and someone's horrified gasp from across the rink. I twist, half-caught in branches, an ornament stuck to the collar of my shirt.
Then I lock eyes with Lucia.
Her dark velvet brown eyes, rimmed red and puffy from crying, lock on mine with an expression of pure, shocked disbelief. It would be funny if I wasn’t halfway into dissolving in a puddle of shame and lava.
"Gideon," she breathes, her voice trembling with a mixture of hurt and fury that makes my stomach drop. "Were you spying on me?"
Chapter Five
Lucia
IwhirltofindGideon sprawled in the snow beside the toppled spruce tree, half-buried in branches like some kind of Christmas, looking absolutely mortified. Pine needles stick to his coat, and there's a silver ornament dangling from his jacket collar like the world's most ridiculous piece of jewelry.
For a second, I just stare. Then the laughter hits me, sharp and unstoppable, bubbling up from somewhere deep in my chest where all the tension has been building. It cracks open like a dam bursting, and Ican't stop it.
"Oh my God," I gasp between fits of giggles, pressing my hand to my mouth. "Did you actually fall out of a Christmas tree?"
Gideon scrambles to his feet, his cheeks flushed dark with embarrassment and what might be panic. Snow clings to his shoulders, and he swipes at the ornament with more force than necessary, sending it flying into the nearby snowbank.
