Page 60 of Santa Baby

“Good thing I ordered those with me in mind. They’re my favorite.” I grinned, and the fresh ice that had formed between us was officially broken. “You look like you haven’t eaten in days, anyway.”

“I haven’t.” He sipped his coffee and shifted his weight in the booth. His foot accidentally slid across mine, and he stilled, eyes meeting mine. “Fia⁠—”

“I like you a lot,” I said without preamble, unable to stop myself. “I think this is getting really complicated and I don’t know what to do or how to act around you anymore.”

He rolled his lower lip between his teeth, then sucked in a breath in preparation to reply. To shut me down, I guessed, but I barreled forward.

“The night we spent on the yacht was unexpected and I loved it. I didn’t want that night to end, and I spent the entire week wondering if it was a mistake because, as much as I like you, I also like being your friend, and I’m worried—” I cut myself off.

I waited for him to break my heart, but instead, he moved his foot so our legs were touching beneath the table. He closed his hand around mine, squeezing. “Nothing about what’s happened between us has been fake to me. I know it was supposed to be that way, but I want to it be real. That night in the park when we got attacked by those teenagers?”

I laughed, biting down on my lower lip to stop the noise. His eyes darted to where I pinned my lip between my teeth. “I remember.”

“That night something shifted. It started at the library when I sat at the kissing booth and wished I was being kissed by you instead of all those sweet old ladies. It hasn’t stopped.”

“It hasn’t stopped for me either,” I managed to say, and his eyes rose to mine again, heavy and tired but serious.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted.

“Me neither.”

“But I want to⁠—”

“I want to do this,” I cut in with a shrug.

He was still holding my hand when the waitress dropped off the food. He didn’t let go for what felt like an eternity, but I wasn’t in a hurry. Then we sat in that cheap little diner and I ate my waffles while he absolutely ravaged the house breakfast, served up at eight in the evening, all while the city spun with activity beyond the frosted, dusty windows.

We didn’t talk about what happened in his office until we were walking arm in arm down the street aimlessly, no destination in sight.

“I wish you hadn’t heard that,” he said at a crosswalk, his face showered in neon lights. “In my office.”

“I’m shocked I did. The doorman chased me up three flights of stairs.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “You took the stairs to my office?”

“I got on the elevator on the fifth floor.” My legs were still aching from the climb, though. “Is it always this bad with your dad?”

“No, this is the worst.” He hung his head for a moment in thought before leading me across the street. We turned down another brightly lit, surprisingly busy avenue. “He’s upset with me because he feels like I might have ruined the family name for real this go around, but I don’t see it that way. His problem is I never have.”

“You don’t care about your family’s reputation? Isn’t that all that rich families in New York care about?”

“I guess so.” He nodded, shrugging. “I guess I don’t fit the mold.”

“I’m glad you don’t. You’re not what I expected you to be.”

“What did you think I’d be?”

“Stuck up, bossy, posh.”

“Posh?”

“I mean, you do like expensive suits.”

“I love expensive suits.”

I threw my head back in a laugh. He smiled, his eyes shimmering with light from a corner bodega we passed, still directionless. “I just expected you to be like Colin, but worse.”

“Colin’s not that bad.”