“I’m going to let Heather know we don’t need the other room,” he murmurs, stepping away. I’m not sure if I’m imagining it, but I think his cheeks pinken and his voice takes on a tone that I can’t read—too soft and slow, as if even he can’t believe the words he’s saying. Damon walks over to the floor-length windows, typing into his phone, and I watch him the entire time.
I watch him until he puts his phone away and he closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath. He probably doesn’t know I’ve got my eyes on him.
“Hey,” I say, and he meets my gaze. “How do you usually spend Christmas Eve?”
“I spend it in Anchorage. It’s a huge thing with my family.”
“Oh. Is Christmas Eve a fun time in the Marks’ household?”
A fond smile crosses his face. Damon nods slowly, murmuring, “It’s incredible.”
I frown. I’ve never gotten the appeal of spending holidays with family, mostly because it’s not an experience I’m familiar with. To me, it’s like any other day of the year—and if I’m bored enough, I’ll spend it in some random bar and go home with an equally alone guy like me.
Damon continues talking. “It’s my favorite night of the year, and it sucks that I’m missing it this year. My parents will surely chew me out for it, and I’m sure my siblings won’t be happy with me, either.”
“How many siblings do you have?”
“Two younger sisters. They’re twins and are still in middle school.”
“Oh.” My eyebrows lift. “Wow… what’s that, a fifteen-year gap between you?”
“Yup.” Damon gives me a smug grin. “Practically raised them myself. My parents always tell me to stop fretting over my baby sisters, but I enjoy looking after them.”
"Huh. Well... that tracks.”
“What?” Damon stands taut and frowns at me.
“You know…” I sit up, quickly dragging the pillow over my lap. No need for him to see my semi. “You look after people. That’s your thing. You’ve been taking care of me, and you hate my guts.”
“Letting the boss’s son die while I was in the same room wouldn’t look good for my annual performance review. It simply wouldn’t be professional.”
“Yes, and Dad thinks you’reveryprofessional.”
“After he caught me barefoot with rumpled clothes in his kitchen after a night of debauchery with his son, I would think so.”
I choke in surprise, my eyes going wide. “O-oh. Okay. Wow. So we’re finally making jokes of that night? We’re finally past that?”
His lip twitches and his eyes light up. Damon lifts his chin, exposing his neck, and honestly? Honestly? I’d put my mouth all over that, again, if given the chance. “I suppose so, yeah.”
Oh.
I can’t help but smile, and Damon lets out a huff of a laugh as he heads toward the bathroom, marking the end of that conversation. Strangely, I’m just realizing that despite working together for a significant time now, andsleepingtogether, I don’t know much about Damon. I’m pretty sure that’s the first time we’ve had a half-decent conversation.
I guess he’s not so bad when I’m making it my life goal to get under his skin.
Honestly, now that I know how much Christmas Eve means to him, a sour sensation creeps into my throat.
“Hey, Dee,” I call.
He looks over his shoulder. “Yeah.”
“Sorry that you’re likely spending Christmas Eve with me.” I give him a smile that does nothing for the dread in my stomach.
Damon’s eyes widen and his shoulders stiffen. He stares at me for a long moment, and the silence that follows makes me shift in my seat.
Why the hell did I go and say that, anyway?
“Don’t worry about it,” he says. Damon runs his hand through his hair. “We’ll make it a fun time.”
