Christmas Crush Read Online Free

sipping
his wine. He’d removed his red hoodie, and wore a white cotton t-shirt and his
jeans. He still looked cool, and perfect. I looked down at myself and frowned.
    “I’m still in the dark as to why you like me,” I said.
Why couldn’t I be happy, instead of feeling inferior?
    “Look around you. Was this what you expected my
place to look like?”
    I flushed. “No.”
    “Did you think it would be pink fluffy pillows and
cats roaming around?”
    “Nothing like that. I
thought it would be colder and more modern.”
    He frowned. “Do I look cold?”
    “No, but you look modern.”
    “It’s just window dressing.” He shifted
uncomfortably and pointed to his chest. “I’m not modern in here.”
      I grinned. “Well,
that was way too corny to be cool.”
    “Screw you.” He laughed.
    I didn’t answer, too afraid I’d say yes, please ,
and I wasn’t sure exactly what I intended to do tonight. I knew what I wanted
to do, but I might be starting to like him too much.
    “Is this your place?” I asked.
    “Yes. It’s an odd setup. I’m an only child and the
building was left to me by my grandmother, but my father owns the club
downstairs.”
    I grinned. “You’re your father’s landlord?”
    “Weird, right?”
    “Couldn’t you have an elevator put in regardless of
what your father says?”
    His eyebrows went up a little in surprise. “You
really did not like those stairs, did you?”
    “I just mean, it’s your building. Can’t you do what
you want?”
    He bit his lip, watching me. “If I do that the club
would have to be closed for God knows how long, which would mean my dad would
lose a ton of money. So I weigh the fact that I find it inconvenient against
his financial needs, and it doesn’t seem like such a big deal that I have to
walk up a few stairs.”
    I liked his outlook. Perhaps he wasn’t superficial
after all. “It felt more like forty thousand stairs. But it’s sweet you put him before yourself.”
    “Trust me, when I’m carrying my groceries up here, I
rethink myself every time.” He watched me, a smile playing around his lips.
“What about you? Do you live alone?”
    “Yes. Grace and I lived together a few years after
our parents died, but a year ago we got our own places. I’m twenty-four and
Grace is a year older. It seemed like the best idea if we’re ever going to
forge grown up romantic relationships with people.”
    He smiled. “You’re funny. You either share nothing
or you share a lot.”
    My cheeks warmed. “Sorry.”
    “No, I didn’t mean it as a criticism. It was an
observation.” He shrugged. “For the record, I like it when you share a lot.”
    “Okay.”
    “What do you do for a living?” he asked.
    “I’m a graphic artist. I freelance mostly, but I
make good money.”
      “I draw,
too.” He laughed. “I have a drafting table in my bedroom.”
    At the mention of his bedroom, my pulse sped up.
“You didn’t bring me up here to see your etchings, did you?”
    “I’ll show you whatever you want to see,” he said.
    I licked my lips nervously. “Do you make a living
with your art?”
    “Nah. I do
it for fun. I’ve sold a few pieces, but I don’t have to work. My family has
money.”
    “Oh. I pretty much have to work if I want to eat.”
    He drew his brows together in a frown. “It makes me
feel weird. I mean that my family is so wealthy. Sometimes I feel like a
slacker.”
    “Do you do anything useful with your money?”
    He laughed gruffly. “I don’t know about useful, but
I want to buy this business I’ve had my eye on for years.”
    “What sort of business?”
    “From the way you were drooling over my bookshelves,
you’re probably the only person who would appreciate this.” He unfolded his
legs and kicked my foot playfully. “It’s a bookstore called Read Till You
Drop.”
    I blinked rapidly, at a loss for words. “I love that
place.”
    “You know it?” he asked. “It’s for sale and I want
to buy it, but my dad thinks