Jingling bells cut through the night, growing louder. I step onto the porch just as a horse pulling a sleigh appears at the end of the street, trotting toward the house. An older man is sitting on the front bench, holding the reins.
“Is that… a sleigh?” Mirna asks, sounding dazed.
The sleigh stops in front of our house and my breath catches.
Alex is sitting in the back.
He stands and hops out, never looking away from me as he walks closer.
Behind him, another group appears on the sidewalk—candles glowing as they join the other carolers. It takes me a second to recognize them.
The King family.
I gasp as tears sting my eyes.
Alex stops at the bottom of the steps. His hands flex uselessly at his sides, like he doesn’t know what to do with them. His jaw is tight, his shoulders tense, but his eyes—his rich brown eyes—are locked on me, pleading.
“What is this?” I ask, my gaze darting from his smiling mother and sister to his decidedly less-enthusiastic brothers.
Barb leans forward, her voice dry but amused. “Why, isn’t it obvious? He’s wooing you.”
I gasp, my heart stuttering in my chest, unwilling to believe. I glance back at Mirna.
She gives me a small, knowing smile. “For once, I think Barb might be right.”
Alex extends his hand. “Would you like to go on a sleigh ride?”
My chin trembles. “It depends.”
Fear flickers in his eyes. “On what?”
“On whether you’re asking me as your friend or…”
“Girlfriend?” he finishes, then swallows hard. “What if my answer is—I want you to be my girlfriend. But if all I can get is friend, I’ll take it and hope you’ll let me prove I’m trustworthy.”
I take a step toward him, sure I’ve misheard. “And if I said I’d like to be more than friends?”
His mouth curves, soft and unguarded. “Then that would be the best Christmas present I’ve ever gotten in my life.”
“Hey!” Grant shouts. “It can’t be better than the year I got you Call of Duty.”
Mallory elbows him hard enough to make him grunt and stumble.
Alex flashes a grin at his brother. “Sorry, asshole. This would be a million times better.” Then he turns back to me, everything else falling away. “So… what do you say? Want to go on a sleigh ride?”
I try for a joke, my voice wobbling. “Isn’t the line ‘wanna build a snowman?’”
He gestures to the snowman in the yard. “Already built one for you. But we can build one together if you want. We can do all the Christmas things—I want to go sledding, have a snowball fight, and teach you how to ice skate. We can make gingerbread houses or paint Santas on ceramic plates and anything else you want to do.”
“You actually want to do all that?”
He steps onto the lowest porch step, closing the space between us. “I want to do them with you, Finley.”
I swallow hard. “But why?” My voice is barely a whisper. “I was only supposed to pretend to be your girlfriend. You don’t have to do any of that with me.”
He lifts his hand to my cheek. His fingers are cold, but his touch sends a thrill through me. “Because I want to be with you, Finley. I want you. I’ve been miserable since you left.”
“I’ve only been gone about six hours,” I murmur, stunned.
