He jerked his arm back, and I followed, trying to grab it. We stumbled backward, and he knocked into a few people looking at the auction items.
“Sorry!” he said, jolting forward and colliding with me instead.
I stiffened automatically to support his weight as he fell into my chest, my arm winding around his waist to steady us both.
He glanced up, hair sticking out from beneath the beanie on his head, one dark wave curling against his eyebrow. His skin was ruddy from the cold, and it was easy to see the mix of brown hues making up his eyes as they rounded with surprise.
For a split second, an echo of that magic I’d felt before moved through me as we stared at each other.
With his feet back under him, he pulled away, tugging at his hat, eyes darting away.
“Give me the ornament,” I said, holding out my hand.
He did, and I found a thicker branch to hang it on this time.
“Told you,” he sang.
Teeth gnashing, I whirled. “You are just as annoying as you were ten years ago.”
His eyes flashed, and he leaned in. “Yeah? Well, I could say the same to you. Still a know-it-all.”
“I am not a know-it-all,” I growled.
Toby shoved up on tiptoes so he was so close that I could feel his breath move in the air between us. “Are too.”
My hand shot out, twisting in his scarf. A scarfandmittens. What was he, five?
His feet scuffled when I yanked, our heaving chests bumping.
“Stay out of my way,” I warned.
His lips parted, likely with a scathing retort, but he was cut off by a shrill, “Boys!”
Still inches from each other, we turned to our scowling mothers standing there with disapproval written all over their faces.
I let him go and stepped back. He straightened and adjusted his scarf. It had snowmen on it. Snowmen, for crying out loud.
“Are you two still arguing?” Gail, Toby’s mom, demanded.
“I told you boys to stop this,” my mom chimed.
Then, in unison, they both dropped their fists onto their hips to glare. No one glared quite like a mother.
“It’s Christmas,” Gail hissed.
“You’re too old for this,” Mom lectured.
Then both of them said, “Why can’t you just get along?”
I slid a quick glance at Toby, which he returned, and then we looked back at our mothers.
“I think it’s time you told us why you two are like this.” Gail decided.
Mom nodded. “Clearly, you can’t work it out alone.”
“It’s nothing—” I started at the same time Toby said, “He thinks he knows everything.”
I shot him a dirty scowl.
