Page 74 of Royal Icing

“What do you think?”

“Honestly? Better than I expected,” he said. There was a bit of cream on his lip, and she reached over to wipe it off. The movement brought them very close together, and a wave of heat washed over her.

She had made their perfect date awkward. He would probably be too afraid to cross that bridge with her again. And they only had tonight.

“There’s one more thing,” he added, taking her hand and guiding her into a living room.

She gasped. “Hold the fucking phone. Dance Your Face Off Four?”

He nodded.

“How did you even find this?” she asked.

“I had some time,” he said.

“No, you didn’t. You have a life-changing presentation to prepare for.”

“I’m prepared,” he said, but his eyes suggested otherwise.

Against her wishes, her heart was growing in her chest. This was problematic. This trip was supposed to be career-focused, no nonsense. She wasn’t supposed to meet a man who washed her dishes and drove around all night to recreate a piece of home for her.

He shook his head. “Regardless, it’s here. And I think tradition dictates a dance.”

He handed her a controller, and she took it. It felt good, like being back five years ago when her mom could dance alongside her and, frankly, kick her ass. Even though she was thousands of miles away, this moment felt like home.

“I hope you’re warmed up,” she said, dropping her Liza Manelli wig on a chair.

“You didn’t strike me as the competitive type.”

“I’m not. Except for this game.”

She pulled her phone out and took some pictures. Just so she could remember it always, exactly as it had been. She caught Leo in the last frame, eyes glimmering with Christmas lights and hands shoved into his boot-cut jeans.

She sent a couple pictures to her mom, who responded almost immediately.

Mom: Don’t have too many Santa’s Revenges or your gingerbread house will look like an abandoned asylum. Love you xoxo

Leo had basically already met her mom. How strange.

“Shall we?” she asked in an attempt to ignore whatever emotional warfare was going on inside.

“I’m ready,” Leo said. There was a peculiar expression on his face. Wistfulness, maybe? She might be imagining things. The Santa’s Revenge was coursing through her veins after one measly sip.

She expertly flicked through the video game menu to the traditional songs and picked the first one.

“Santa’s Sleighin’” blasted through the intimidating-looking soundbar, and Leo and Emma began to dance side by side, following the instructions that whizzed by at lightning speed.

Leo followed along beside her, better at it than he had any right to be. Had he practiced? She couldn’t stop watching him out of the corner of her eye, and she nearly missed a couple of moves even though she knew all these songs by heart.

When the song ended, they were both out of breath.

“That used to be easier,” she said. Not to mention she wasn’t wearing the right bra for it.

God, it was hot in here. Especially with the fireplace on.

Without stopping to think, she stripped her sweater off and stood there in her bra and jeans.

Leo’s gaze zeroed in on her chest, then snapped back to the TV. It looked like his grip tightened on his controller, and he cleared his throat.