Faking It with My Bossy Ex (Sweet Christmas Kisses)

13. Amy

Chapter 13

Amy

“A little to the left … no, wait, maybe to the right, just half a centimeter.” I squeeze my fists together in suspense as Dylan finishes placing my painting. He takes a step back and wipes one hand exaggeratedly across his forehead.

“How much did it cost to ship those here?” He crosses his arms over his chest and looks the painting up and down. It’s of a little girl in a red sled hurling down a snowy white hill.

Her golden hair flies behind her, and the look of glee on her face makes the viewer feel it. It's one of my favorites, second only to the painting I still have tucked away in my room.

“Plenty. Does it matter?” I ask. “The important thing is, they’re here for the auction.” I take a step back and admire our work. Everything is in perfect alignment, and even I would want to bid on my paintings. Never thought I’d ever think that.

I check my phone and frown. Leo hasn’t answered my email. Even though I was engrossed in an online movie marathon with Laura and Megan last night at the cabin, I kept checking for any news.

“Everything good?” Dylan asks, his eyes roaming me up and down. My skin tingles and I suddenly find the hem of my shirt fascinating. Definitely not because I’m remembering how it feels when he looks at me like that.

I peek up. He's still watching, a slight smile playing on his lips. I bet he's just spacing out. Thinking about … I don't know, baseball or whatever guys think about.

There isn’t even anyone else here for us to perform for. This whole town thinks we’re dating now. If there was any doubt, it was cemented when we were announced as one of the winners of the first round of the Christmas Couples Contest.

“Everything’s fine. Just waiting to hear back from someone.” I bite my lower lip. Did I just say too much?

“Someone? A special someone?” he asks, with that teasing glint in his eye, the same one I used to know so well.

“A friend. We’ll leave it at that. I have an art class starting in about …” I check my watch. “Oh, gosh, it’s starting in five minutes.” I turn to rush from the auction room.

Dylan reaches out and grabs my arm, spinning me around right into him. The space between us shrinks until there’s barely a breath left. My breaths come faster, the air suddenly too thick. When did the room get so small?

“What …” The word is barely more than a breath. I lift my gaze, finding his eyes fixed on mine, intense, dark. They drop to my lips, holding there, and everything inside me goes still, waiting, pulse thundering in my ears.

Then he reaches out and rubs his thumb softly against the tip of my nose.

“You have a bit of paint, just there. Didn’t want you looking messy in front of your new students.” He keeps rubbing my nose, removing the bit of paint.

“I’m not trying to win a beauty contest. Besides, painting has a tendency to be a bit messy,” I manage to say.

“I don’t mind messy.” His tone goes lower, making my stomach vibrate. Melting into a puddle in his arms seems dangerously appealing. A kiss would be the next logical step, right? My pulse quickens at the thought.

Stop! No more Dylan, and definitely no more moments in those toned arms … M y students!

Does my inner voice have to be so loud? Taking a couple of stumbling steps backward, I touch the tip of my nose.

“Oh, thanks. Umm, I have to go.” Wow. Classy. I probably seem so unbothered, super cool.

I fight back a giddy smile, almost tripping on my way out. Graceful as ever.

I’ve made myself promises when it comes to Dylan. No more Dylan, no more of the past, but now my head and my heart are in a big disagreement.

And it doesn't help that my mind keeps drifting back to this morning. I woke up cocooned in warmth, which isn't normal because I never tuck myself in like that.

There was a blueberry muffin in a paper bag with a note signed with Dylan’s signature: D. Maybe the muffin is a part of his tactical plan to break my heart again.

Who knew my precautions were so weak they could be swayed by baked goods?

Skidding to a halt outside of study room A, I take a deep breath and step inside to find more than a dozen students, all waiting with their sketchbooks and eager expressions.

“Good afternoon, everyone. I’m Miss Bennet.” I’m slightly out of breath and can only hope they think my cheeks are red because of the cold outside.

***

Scooping up paint brushes and pallets, I push everything into my book bag. Class was extended for more than half an hour. Everyone had so many questions. It’s rewarding to teach a class of young people so eager to learn.

My phone vibrates against the desk.

A guy’s perspective …

It's from Leo. I bite my lip in anticipation as I click on the email. It was such a quick decision, emailing Leo about Dylan. But Leo's always been my safe harbor, the one person I can trust without fear of judgment.

I read through his email, calming myself as I do.

Sounds to me like Snowfall Springs just got a lot more interesting. I can’t tell you what he meant by that, but from a guy’s perspective, maybe old feelings are resurfacing.

If he just wanted to make you uncomfortable, wouldn't he have kissed your lips? Kissing your forehead shows you he cares. I’d say he cares about what you want and how comfortable you are.

Are you sure things with this Dylan guy are done?

Leo

Dylan might care about me, but about my feelings? Impossible.

In high school, he was the playboy everyone warned me about, a reputation he wore like armor. But I wasn’t scared off like the others. I knew the real Dylan, the one he kept hidden under layers of swagger and reckless choices. Or at least I thought I did.

Turns out, I had no idea.

If he cared, he wouldn’t have dumped me. He said he was not in love with me.

What’s new in New York? Tell me something interesting. BTW, thanks for the guy’s perspective, I appreciate it.

A

Frowning, I tuck the phone back into the book bag and sling it over my shoulder. I turn and head out toward the library entrance. Dylan didn’t say if he would be sticking around until I got out or if he’d be heading back to the inn early.

It’s probably weird that I expect him to wait for me.

As I reach the lobby, my eyes land on two familiar figures looming near the door. I stop in my tracks.

“Jake? Tyler?” I squeak, not sure if I should believe my eyes. They're supposed to be hours away right now, nowhere near Snowfall Springs.

Jake grins and holds his arms wide. It’s been a while since I saw my brothers and even longer since we spent Christmas in the same place. I’m pretty sure I’m dreaming. I barrel into him, hugging him tight.

“What are you doing here?” My voice is muffled by his green and black sweater, the perfect colors for a stuffy doctor. Pulling back, I catch another glimpse of his crooked grin, so much like Dad’s …

“We wanted to surprise you for Christmas, seeing as it’s literally been four years. Come here, you!” Tyler pulls me in next. He’s my little brother by three years, but there’s nothing little about his towering frame and lanky arms now.

My face hurts from smiling so much.

“How did you get here? I mean, with the storm and the lack of hotel rooms, and …” I throw my hands up, giving up. There were plenty of things to keep them away, but they clearly managed.

“We planned this weeks ago. We weren’t about to let a little snow stop us. Say, how about we pass by your friend’s bakery for a bit of coffee and a donut? We can catch up.” Tyler rocks back and forth on his feet. He’s no good at staying still, no matter what he's doing, whether it’s a conversation or when he’s playing basketball with his high school students. “Mom would have wanted us to connect every once in a while, you know?”

I nod. My mom loved Christmas, family, and putting the two together. Well, it was her elixir. Especially after Dad died, she clung to us in the aftermath. I can imagine her scolding us, telling us family shouldn't be taken for granted. Goodness, I miss her. It’s been three years since she passed away.

“Catching up sounds perfect. I’m sure Laura would love to see you!” I wink, knowing that he and Laura are just a match made in heaven waiting to happen. A blush creeps over his boyish features. He might be twenty-three, but he still looks sixteen to me. “It’s walking distance so …”

Just as I turn to leave, Dylan strides in, his eyes instantly locking onto Jake and Tyler. The warm holiday buzz slips into icy tension. Dylan’s mouth tightens, and my brothers’ jaws do the same, like mirror images in a face-off.

“Dylan.” Jake’s tone is dangerous, a warning. Tyler’s look could kill, like dead on the spot. I’m kind of glad he doesn’t have that ability.

“Wait, were you two here at the library together?” he demands.

Jake and Tyler are glaring, like twin guard dogs ready to pounce. And Dylan, well, he’s not exactly backing down. This is the exact lineup I’d pay to avoid. An ex-boyfriend and two overprotective brothers in the same room? Yeah, this is a recipe for trouble.

A murder in the library might be front-page news, but I’m not that desperate to be famous.

“Jake and Tyler. It’s been a while.” Dylan’s face shifts. His usual easygoing smile sliding into place. But I know him well enough to catch the faint shadow in his gaze, the kind that tells me he’s bracing himself. I can’t tell if that’s comforting or terrifying.