Page 141 of The Holiday Clause

“I don’t have cable.”

“I can sign into my account. We can stream something.”

Greyson rarely watched television. He mainly relied on books for entertainment, so he wasn’t even aware that sharing accounts was possible, but he liked the idea of Wren further mingling her life with his.

Once she logged into Netflix and played a preview for the chick show she wanted to watch, he frowned, dizzy from just a preview of such small-town chaos.

“What do you think?”

“Absolutely not.”

She clicked her tongue. “It’s a perfect show for binge-watching.”

“They talk too fast, and I already have a headache.” No way could he put up with hours of that. “Find something with a little less estrogen.”

She rolled her eyes. “You mean something more manly?”

“Yes.” He sniffled, and shivered under the blanket, cradling his soup as he waited for it to cool.

“Of course, my fragile little cupcake.”

She scrolled for a while as he slurped and hummed over the delicious comfort food. Who knew so many shows existed? The overwhelming amount of choices exhausted him.

“What about vampires? Is that manly enough?”

He’d probably fall asleep as soon as she put something on. “Sure.” He swallowed down the last drop of broth. “Is there more soup?”

She cued up a movie and took his bowl to get a refill.

He watched what seemed a dreary opening to a thriller. “I think this is the longest I’ve watched my TV since I bought it.”

“I can tell.”

A moss covered forest filled the screen as a young deer nibbled at a fern and some chick talked about dying. The deerbolted as something chased it then a teenager appeared holding a cactus. “What is this?”

“Twilight.”

He frowned. “Isn’t this a show for little girls?”

“No. It’s a saga for all ages. Shh, you have to listen.”

Fantastic, he was locked into a five-movie marathon about high school vampires. “I should have picked the small-town fast talkers.”

“Give it a chance.”

Too weak to steal the remote, and unsure how to even use the damn thing, he settled in with his second bowl of soup. He must have had quite the fever, because the movie actually held his interest. By the time Bella fell in love with Edward, Greyson was thoroughly invested.

“Isn’t he a hundred years older than her?”

“It’s an age-gap romance.”

“I’d say.”

By the second movie, he was locked in and pissed at Edward for disappearing on Bella. It made him think of all the times he’d done that to Wren. Glancing over at her, his stomach bottomed out at the sound of her delicate sniffle.

“Are you crying?”

“Don’t judge me.” She wiped her eyes. “It’s sad.”