Chapter 29 Eli
TWENTY-NINE
ELI
Max Calder said yes.
He said yes to me.
I keep replaying it in my head as I cut across campus, the snow crunching under my boots like a soundtrack. Max, scowling, jaw tight, looking like the word “yes” was being dragged out of him against his will—and yet he said it. My Grinch. My Grumpy. My Max.
And now I’ve got three weeks with him. Three weeks where I don’t have to sneak. Three weeks where it doesn’t end with him slipping out into the hall like we’re a secret.
I spot Luke sprawled across one of the couches in the campus lounge, phone in one hand, soda in the other. He sees me the second I try to sneak past and lifts his chin, smirking.
“Starling,” he calls, loud enough that half the room probably hears. “Get over here.”
I hesitate, already sensing a setup, but he pats the cushion next to him like he owns it. “Come on. Sit.”
I drop onto the couch beside him, pretending not to notice the knowing look on his face.
He studies me for a long beat, head tilted, straw between his lips. Then—“You look way too happy for someone who just came from practice. What happened? Win the lottery? Have sex in the showers? Finally make Calder laugh?”
I blink. “What? No.”
He narrows his eyes, grin widening. “Oh my God. You did, didn’t you?”
“Luke—”
“Don’t even. You’re blushing.” He sets his soda down and leans in conspiratorially. “Alright, spill it. What’s going on between you and our resident Grinch?”
I turn toward him before lowering my voice just loud enough for only him to hear me, “Max is coming home with me. For Christmas.”
Luke sits up straighter, brows lifting. “You and Calder. No shit.”
“No shit,” I confirm, grinning like I’m about to explode. Should I be spilling our secret to Luke? Probably not. But he’s cool. He isn’t going to run and tell the world. He knows how to keep secrets.
For a second, he just watches me, like he’s waiting for the punchline. Then he shakes his head, a slow grin tugging at his mouth. “Damn, Eli. You’re in it.”
I roll my eyes, but it’s useless—my cheeks are already hot. “I know. Don’t say it.”
“Too late. You’ve got that look.”
“What look?”
“The I’m-gonna-fall-on-my-face-in-love look. And I’ve never seen you wear it before, so it’s definitely not sugar high. This is Calder.”
I groan into my hands, muffling a laugh. “He’s…different with me. He’s Max. I can’t explain it.”
Luke elbows me lightly. “You don’t have to. I get it. But just—be careful, okay? Grumpy boys can break soft hearts without meaning to. And your heart is definitely soft.”
I drop my hands and grin at him anyway, because I can’t help it. “Good thing my heart’s also stubborn.”
Luke snorts, leaning back into the couch. “Good thing.”
Luke eyes me for another long second, then tilts his head, the grin softening into something knowing. “So how long has this thing been going on?”
I throw up my hands. “It’s not a thing.”
“Uh-huh.” He takes a sip of his soda, deliberately slow. “So how long has this ‘not a thing’ been happening?”
My mouth opens, then shuts, and I feel my ears go hot. I twist the strings of my hoodie around my fingers. I knew that he’d want to know more. But it’s still strange to say out loud. Yeah, Daniel knows, but he just gives me shit on the ice when no one else can hear him.
“…Thanksgiving,” I mumble.
Luke nearly chokes on his drink. “The snowstorm Thanksgiving?”
I wince. “Yeah.”
“Jesus, Eli.” He leans back, laughing under his breath. “That was, what, three weeks ago? And you’re already hauling him home for Christmas?”
I shrug helplessly, my grin tugging back despite my attempt at playing it cool. “He said yes. And… I want him there. It feels right.”
Luke studies me like he’s memorizing this version of me—flushed, jittery, practically glowing.
Finally, he nods, no teasing this time. “Then it is right. Just…don’t sell yourself short, man.
If you’re giving him three weeks with your family, make sure he gives you something back. Don’t let him hide forever.”
The words land in my chest, heavy but true. “I’ll figure it out. For now…I’m just gonna enjoy this.”
Luke raises his soda can in a mock toast. “Good. You deserve to.”
By the time I leave Luke, I’m practically floating. My feet crunch through the thin layer of snow on the path, but it feels like I could just hover straight across campus with the way my chest is lit up. Max Calder said yes. He’s coming home with me. The thought is on repeat inside my head.
The sky is that gorgeous blue it only ever gets here in Michigan in the winter time with snow on the ground. The world is perfect right now. Even the winter birds seem to be happier as I head back to my dorm.
I can’t even imagine my mom’s face when he walks in, all broad shoulders and that scowl he tries to weaponize. She’s going to feed him within an inch of his life and call him family before he even sits down. He won’t know what hit him.
Back in my dorm, I kick the door shut behind me and flop onto my bed, pulling my laptop onto my stomach. If he’s coming home with me, then he’s not getting away without a proper holiday initiation. Which means: ugly sweaters.
I scroll through endless options, each one more ridiculous than the last. Santa surfing on sharks. Reindeer doing yoga poses. A gingerbread man looking like he survived a horror movie.
But then two stop me. One—a green monstrosity with the Grinch’s grumpy mug knitted front and center.
It screams Max in every possible way. The other—a soft-looking sweater with a cartoon panda clutching a plate of cookies, eyes wide and adorable.
I can already picture him in either one, deadpanning while everyone else loses it.
I chew my lip, debating, my mouse hovering between them. Grumpy Grinch Max. Or secretly sweet Panda Max. Both fit. Both would make him roll his eyes and mutter, but maybe—just maybe—smile too.
I grin to myself, click, and shut the laptop like I’ve just made the most important decision of my life.
He has no idea what’s coming.
Airports are supposed to be stressful. Long lines, people shoving past you with rolling suitcases, that constant tinny announcement about boarding groups. But right now? It feels like the start of a goddamn Christmas movie.
Max walks beside me in a black hoodie and a baseball cap pulled low, and somehow, he looks like every bad-boy fantasy rolled into one. Broad shoulders, long stride, that jaw tight like he’s daring anyone to even look at him. Hot as fuck, and completely mine—at least for this trip.
Meanwhile, I’m in my favorite gray hoodie and a red beanie pulled down over my ears, bouncing on the balls of my feet because I can’t keep still. My carry-on bag bumps against my hip with every step, but I don’t even care.
“Calder,” I singsong, nudging him with my elbow as we move toward security. “You realize this is our first official trip together? Like… as a couple. Or whatever you want to call us. I mean, I’m calling it a couple trip.”
His mouth twitches like he’s fighting a smile, but his eyes stay straight ahead. “You’re loud.”
“Mmhm. And you like it,” I shoot back, grinning as I tug my beanie lower. “Bet you’re already regretting saying yes.”
He cuts me a sideways look from under the brim of his cap, sharp enough to pin me in place. “Not even close.”
My heart stumbles, skips, then takes off in a sprint, but I hide it with a laugh. “Careful, Calder. That almost sounded romantic. Next thing I know, you’ll be holding my hand in public.”
He huffs, but the pink edging his ears betrays him. And because I can’t resist, I wiggle my fingers in his direction like I’m offering him the option. He growls under his breath and keeps walking, faster now, which only makes me laugh harder as I jog to catch up.
God, I can’t believe he’s really here. With me. Going home for Christmas.
We’re already past security, shoes back on, bags slung over shoulders, and I swear it feels like stepping into another universe. The clamor of rolling suitcases, the smell of burnt coffee and overpriced pretzels—it should all be ordinary. But it isn’t. Not when Max is next to me.
No teammates. No coaches. No risk of someone spotting us where they shouldn’t. Just me, him, and a sea of strangers who don’t know our names, don’t care who we are.
It’s a high I didn’t realize I was starving for.
I catch his hand brushing mine as we walk down the concourse, and for once, I don’t shove it in my pocket. I let it linger, let my pinky hook around his. Testing. Teasing. My pulse spikes like I just blocked a goal in overtime.
Max shoots me a look from under the brim of his cap. Not a glare, not exactly—but the kind of look that says You’re pushing me, Starling.
So I grin, tipping my head toward him. “No one here knows us, Calder. We could make out in the Cinnabon line, and no one would blink.”
“Jesus, Eli,” he mutters, but the corner of his mouth twitches.
“Relax,” I say, bumping his arm with my shoulder. “Not gonna scandalize the innocent cinnamon rolls. Just saying… It’s kinda nice. Being out here. Just us. Not hiding.”
Something flickers in his eyes, and my chest goes warm. I don’t push—he’s already giving me more than I thought he ever would.
Instead, I point to a newsstand up ahead. “Want me to buy you one of those neck pillows? Bright pink. With sequins. Real incognito.”
He exhales a laugh—low, reluctant, but real—and I swear it’s better than anything else I could’ve gotten for Christmas.