“Yep.” Had he not heard that rumor?
“Don’t tell my mother about that one.” Shaking his head, he sighed. “She’ll try to go to war with the neighbors again and my dad is tired of reminding her that she’s supposed to be a pacifist.”
She didn’t seem to know what that word meant, so I was fine with that request. “That’s not one I’m going to bring up.”
Fucking hell.
“Not that I’m going.” I was not going. “There is no reason to torture everyone like that.”
Or make it awkward.
Chipmunk was back to looking at me like I was an idiot. “When my mother realizes we’ve finally talked, what do you think she’ll do when she figures out I didn’t bring you home?”
Well.
“You’re not going home for Christmas.” He started listing off my issues on his fingers. “Your parents are out of the country. Your parents are assholes. Your parents are stupid. I’m sorry. One internet search would’ve explained what a Daddy is. And you’ve been miserable. I’m sorry. I’m taking you home so that I don’t end up disowned.”
His level of niceness bordered on unhealthy.
“Ugh. I have to be able to tell her that I’ve started helping right now.” Shaking his head, he scrubbed his hands over his face. “She’ll start lecturing me about my energy again. I can’t take that.”
Oh, that didn’t sound good.
“I’m not a fucking project.”
His glare said he didn’t agree with me on that part.
“You’re miserable.” Throwing his hands up, he started pacing in the small entryway. “You’re cranky and bored and don’t even have a little to help you out of this funk. You’re the biggest project she’s ever going to have met and you can’t play dumb about that or we’ll all deal with the fallout.”
Huh?
“We’ll spend all of Christmas meditating and dream journaling and she’ll get out the candles again.” His glare was fucking adorable. “I think I’m allergic to the fucking spirit-cleansing candles. I can’t handle those for days because my sinuses going crazy makes her think it’s bad energy or something.”
Oh.
Well, that sucked.
“I don’t even know what to say to any of that.” I had to say something, right? “I’m sorry about the candles, though.”
She really liked those.
She’d given them to everyone for Christmas the first year they’d come out.
Everyone.
“That’s all you have to say?” Crossing his arms over his chest had me trying not to smile. “Sorry about the candles?”
Clearly that’d been the wrong response.
“No.” But what else could I say? “I appreciate her worrying and all I’ve put you through.”
Was that better?
His arms went back down to his sides.
We were moving in the right direction.
“I’m nice and you’re a Daddy so that means you have to fix it.” Something about his expression softened as he stomped his foot and the way he started shifting side to side had my brain finally waking up.
