Page 85 of Meet Me on Mistletoe Lane

“Sam…”

He hurried off the stage toward the storage closet, but I followed closely behind him.

He didn’t get to dodge something this big.

Not with me, at least.

The storage room smelled like mothballs, cedar, and dust. A small light bulb above us flickered, spilling shadows onto the board games, decorations, and rolled-up yoga mats stacked on the shelves.

I gently closed the door behind us as Sam began to search the shelves.

“How could you give up those books?” I asked him. “That’s your favorite series—”

“I’ll buy another set from Ann.” He held out a couple of board games for me to take as he continued to dig.

“But it’s not the same—”

“Aha!” He held up the cage and shook it. “Let’s count these just in case.”

I narrowed my eyes at him but opened the master board as he dumped the bingo balls onto the counter.

Forget tree farming.

With the way he avoided answering questions, Sam could be a top recruit for the CIA.

We started placing each one in their right spot on the master board to double-check that we weren’t missing any.

“So…” He set two more down. “Excited for your big date?”

Redirecting like a pro.

I reached around him for a couple more to place. “Yeah.” Nervous is more like it.

Sam must’ve heard it in my voice, because he nudged me. “It’ll go great, G.”

“You think?”

He handed me the last three. “I mean, he knows about your allergies now, so if he…um…if you two want to…”

“Kiss?” My neck started to prickle with heat. Why don’t contractors think to put better ventilation in places like this? “I doubt that will happen.”

“I wouldn’t count it out.” We started putting the balls back in the cage. “He definitely wants to.”

“How can you tell?” I asked, immediately regretting the question, because in what world would a conversation like this in a closet with my best friend who I still sorta wanted to kiss not be awkward?

But Sam wasn’t fazed by it. In fact, he just blinked at me like I had grown reindeer antlers.

“He leaned.” He tossed the last couple of balls in the cage and then closed it.

“He leaned?” I asked. “What does that even mean?”

Sam sighed and folded up the master board. “Earlier today, before the face-painting, I saw him lean toward you.”

“And that…” I moved my hands around. “Means something?”

“Of course it does.” And before I knew what was happening, he took a step closer to me. “Look, G, if a guy leans in like this…” He paused and reached his arm behind my head, leaning his elbow against the closest shelf. “That means he wants to be close to you. Like he’s…waiting. You know what I’m saying?”

“No.” I smiled. “But I’m having fun watching you try.”