His Make-Believe Christmas Bride
Page 52
“Not another word!” Cami’s dad says, putting an arm around my shoulder as we all turn and start walking collectively back toward the parking lot. “If Cami likes you, that’s good enough for us.”
Cami looks back and meets my eye, that blush still on her cheeks. We still have more to talk about, but for now, I’m here with her and her family, right back in a winter wonderland, and when we pile into the car, she slides in next to me, her fingers interlacing with mine during the entire ride home.
CHAPTER 32
CAMI
For the next two days, Patrick enthusiastically participates in every Aaronson family tradition.
When we get back from the lights, my mom serves up more hot chocolate from the slow cooker—which is almost always on warm on the counter during Christmas—and we all settle in front of the TV to watch Elf. This time, there’s a lot more laughing from his end, in chorus with the little kids who love the part where he talks to the narwhal.
While we watch the movie, we have popcorn and red and green M&M’s. When it’s over, the parents have to peel the kids up off the ground and take them to their rooms.
“Uh-huh,” Mom says, standing right away and placing herself between Patrick and me. “Patrick, you can take Cami’s room. Cami, you can sleep with Kristin.”
“Excuse me?” Kristin quips, appearing beside Mom and shaking her head. “Absolutely not. Cami is a cuddler.”
“I’m not,” I say, as Patrick grins up at me, his whole face lit up. At me, he mouths, pillow wall.
My face couldn’t possibly get any higher as I lead him up to my room, suddenly wishing I’d taken down all the posters from when I was in high school. So far, I’ve liked keeping everything the same, because it really makes it feel like coming home, but now that Patrick is standing in the middle of the room, his arms crossed as he turns slowly, taking it all in, they seem childish.
“High School Musical, huh?” he asks, as my mom darts off to get him a few extra blankets.
I open my mouth to lie, to tell him I’m not that into it, but I stop myself at the last second.
Patrick flew all the way here, just to see me. Just to talk to me and apologize.
He caught me in his arms in the street and told me that he wants to try.
So I’m going to give him the realest version of myself.
“Yeah,” I say, instead, taking a step toward him. “Guess I’ll have to add it to the movie education list.”
“Guess so.”
The clock on the wall ticks gently, only audible because we’re so quiet, standing across from each other.
“So, I’m guessing the sale probably isn’t going to go through?” I ask, my voice just barely loud enough for him to hear. I don’t want anyone snooping in the hallway to overhear the conversation.
My mom knows, roughly, about what happened, but I haven’t filled her in on all the details. And I think it would be smart to talk to Patrick more before telling my entire family about the whole ordeal.
Plus, I’m just so happy that he’s here.
“Nah,” he says, but his smile doesn’t fall at all. Instead, he takes another step toward me, and my pulse picks up when he takes my wrists in his hands, swiping his thumb over my pulse. I lean toward him, and he’s there in a second, his lips against mine, his hands falling to the small of my back.
“All right, all right,” Mom says, sweeping back into the room and breaking us apart. “Time for bed, you two. We’ll be together again for breakfast.”
“Okay,” Patrick says, accepting the blankets. Mom pauses in the doorway, glancing at the two of us, then gesturing for me to come with her. I roll my eyes.
“I’m coming, Mom, promise.”
She tuts and says, “Okay. Make sure that night-light is plugged in, just in case Patrick here is afraid of the dark.”
“Okay, I will.”
I manage to steal two more kisses before Kristin shows up, pretending to gag and throwing a pillow at me.
“Come on,” she says, falsely nonchalant, like always. “I’m putting on those claymation cartoon movies, with Rudolph and stuff. You’re watching them with me.”