Idiots to Lovers (bxb)

46 | Christmas at the Cafe

Everett

The cafe was decked out in festive Christmas lights. They were strung up on the ceiling and wrapped around the fir tree. Clementine thought he was being sneaky that day, but I noticed him redoing the decorations on my side of the tree. I couldn't blame him though, he made everything more beautiful.

We had tied what few crackers were intact on the bottom branches and hidden the opened ones on top—too high up for any kids to reach. Dad had looked at them rather suspiciously but hadn't said anything. He came back to check on us last night, but luckily we were done covering our tracks with the Bon-Bons. Not so luckily, the cake had exploded just as he walked into the kitchen. He sent Clementine home and made me scrub the oven under his watchful gaze.

He stayed up with me though and helped make some Christmas goodies—puddings and things—to sell since the kitchens will be closed today. We also made tons of plain brownies and cupcakes to decorate at the workshop.

It was the first Saturday of December and we were all prepared for our first workshop. Clementine was leaning over the Christmas stollen, carefully dusting snowy white icing powder over it. His floppy hair fell over his eyes as he worked. He frowned and pushed it back, glaring at the stollen as if it had been the cause. His violet eyes narrowed and flashed with ire, glinting like amethyst. They were beautiful to me.

He was beautiful. He was ethereal with his high cheekbones and pointed chin—almost elf-like. Light lavender eyes contrasted strikingly against his dark hair, adding to his elusive pixie-ness. He had scowled beautifully when I'd told him, but I still think it secretly—he's just pretty.

"What did the stollen do to you, sweetie?" I teased, coming up behind him.

He huffed and blushed at the nickname, his cheeks turning a delectable shade of pink.

"The powder isn't sitting right," he grumbled, unconsciously rocking up on the balls of his feet. A habit he had when he was feeling anxious.

"It looks perfect," I declared, reaching out to poke it.

He smacked my hand away. Unnecessarily hard, I might add.

Clementine growled at me to stay away, but it was difficult to take his threats seriously. He looked too cute when he huffed and glared.

He messed about with the stollen some more, deeply focused on his task. He gets this serious—seriously cute—look on his face when he's making something. And I find it adorable.

"Are you excited to see everyone?" I asked as Clementine nervously tapped his fingers against the counter.

Jenna was coming by the cafe later to support the workshop opening, along with Rowan, Alex, and several other of his friends. A couple of my friends from school were coming as well.

"Uh, sure," Clementine muttered. He had started seeing his friends a few months ago, but I think he still found it awkward to hang out with Jenna.

"It'll be fine, there's going to be a whole group of people," I reminded him.

Clementine hesitated. "I just didn't want you to feel uncomfortable that I was spending time with Jenna again."

"Oh." My eyes widened. "I wasn't upset about that, Clementine. I'm glad you're seeing your friends again."

He looked doubtful, lips pressed into a thin line. I wanted those lips to be doing other things.

"It really doesn't bother me," I insisted, lacing my fingers with his.

Clementine smiled softly, and my heart flipped over in my chest. He was shy and brooding when we first met—and I had loved that too—but lately he's been smiling more and more.