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“It was the tamest thought in my head.”

He chuckled and sat. It was a tight fit. Our sides were pressed together, from our legs all the way up to our shoulders. I swallowed a large gulp of water from the bottle and set it on the floor beside me.

“Do you really like those singing chickens on your porch?” Ryan asked.

“Are you trying to pick a fight?”

“No, I’m curious.”

“I do like them. You wouldn’t know, but it’s fun to make decorations. To take something out of your brain and create it with your own hands. I look at those chickens and remember that my little brother wore feathers in his hair for a week after we made them, and how my mom made hot chocolate with a candy cane stir stick while we worked. And…” I started to feel stupid for this admission because Ryan didn’t need to know all this. He was mocking the chickens. “Yes, I like them.”

“A candy cane stir stick?”

“You’ve never done that?”

“No.”

“It’s just a regular candy cane that you use to stir your hot chocolate. It kind of melts and makes it minty.” I shrugged. “It’s good. You should try it.”

“I should,” he said, but I wasn’t sure if he meant it.

“Do you really like the blinding display of lights on your house?” I asked him.

“It has gotten obnoxious,” he said.

I laughed, his honesty refreshing.

“My dad wants to do a sleigh with a real Santa and reindeer this year. On the lawn.”

I was stunned silent for a moment. He’d just told me the thing that would win them the competition. We couldn’t beat that. “Santa might be a little busy this time of year.”

He released a laugh.

“Is your dad really going to feed and house reindeer all month?”

“No idea. My mom’s trying to talk him out of it. It’s too much.”

That surprised me as well. I assumed his mom would be all for bigger and better. She always seemed to be on the same page as Ryan’s dad. “Where do you even get live reindeer?” I asked.

“Dad hasn’t found any yet. But he’s working on it.”

“Don’t tell him you gave away your plans to the enemy.”

He thought about that. I watched the way his brow crinkled a bit. “I figured you…”

“Couldn’t replicate Santa and live reindeer? Yeah, you’re right. We can’t.”

“No, I figured we were commiserating together. Not competing.”

“You know we’re competitors.”

He met my eyes. This close I could see the gold and green circling his iris. “Our parents are competitors. Are we?”

We held our stare.

“Yes,” I practically whispered. Where had my voice gone? Maybe the tingles that were working their way up the side of my body had taken it.

Ryan smiled. It was a very disarming smile. He had very dark eyelashes. I could see each one of them perfectly. We were so close. His eyes flicked to my lips then back up.