“That thing is staring at me,” I say through gritted teeth.
She glances over her shoulder, then tries and fails to stifle a laugh.
“Here,” she says, biting her lip. She tugs my arm so we shift, and the elf isn’t in my line of sight anymore.
“That’s weird, Chloe. It’s like a little spy.”
She snorts. “She only watches kids for Santa. There’s no camera.”
“Hard disagree,” I say seriously, but some of the tension is loosening. “She’s got a face like Robert deNiro in Meet the Parents—she knows things, and she’s not afraid. I half expect her to give me the ‘I’m watching you’ hand gesture.”
Her shoulders shake with laughter now. “It’s just a toy. I promise she doesn’t care about what anyone in this house does. She’s friendly.”
“You’re trying to distract me.”
“I think you’re doing okay by yourself,” she says on a deep exhale. “I’m sorry for laughing. I wish you could see your face, though. So concerned.”
“It’s creepy, Chloe.”
“Do I need to contain activities upstairs?” She frowns. “No, that won’t work, you’re sleeping up there. We can swap rooms—I’ll sleep across from Phoebe, and you can have your room back.” The words are tumbling fast now, and I don’t know how we got here. “I overstepped, didn’t I?”
I cross my arms so I won’t reach for her. The house is quiet now, so there won’t be interruptions. And I don’t want this conversation to be tangled up with our first kiss in a decade.
Both matter. I don’t want to blur either one.
“You didn’t. This is a ‘me’ problem, and you need your traditions.”
“She asked about her tonight,” Chloe adds more softly. “She said she hoped that Elsa would know where to find us.”
“Don’t contain her anywhere. Let Elsa,” my eyes travel back to the little elf with creepy eyes, “have shenanigans wherever she needs to. It’s your house now, too.”
“I didn’t think I’d get to do things like this anymore,” she admits. “Not in a real house. Not with… space.”
The fire pops softly behind us.
I clear my throat and repeat myself. “You can do whatever you want here.”
She smiles at me, the kind that makes it dangerous again. The kind that makes me want to yank her close and see if she tastes like the hot chocolate she drank after dinner.
The lamps flicker once, just once, then settle.
Probably the wiring.
Probably.
“I should head to bed,” she says. “Big day tomorrow.”
That’s an understatement. I know it’s supposed to be a business decision, but every day makes it feel like I’m taking one step closer to the life I always wanted with Chloe.
I think putting a ring on her finger, no matter the pretense, is probably a terrible idea. But I’ve always been one to leap first, then worry about the rest.
So that’s how I’ll approach this, too.
“Yeah,” I agree.
She takes a few steps toward her room, then pauses. “Goodnight, Aiden.”
“Goodnight, Chloe.”
