Chapter 30

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Christmas is coming.

"I didn't intend for you to do the background check so you could invite yourself into class each day," I whisper as Pollux tacks Christmas lights in place around the dining room. Presently, Zahra is monitoring the tree decorating in the main classroom while I handle the more boring things. With my—since school started again on Monday—new assistant.

It has been a laborious four days of Polluxcoming to school, bringing elaborate lunch boxes to share with my littles…and winning them over to his side.

They love him.

They love him as though he keeps candy in his pockets and passes it out when I'm not looking.

Except I'm always looking, because he's always next to me.

I'd call him clingy, but he kind of has to stay in my bubble to keep the fear in his veins from terrifying the children.

To be certain, his presence has made attempting to talk to Zahra about anything impossible. Somehow, I need to figure out if I can bring a friend to movie night tonight for the express purpose of letting her talk to the faerie prince—assuming he can also make it tonight. With any luck, he can tell her directly which rules barred his people from answering her desperate cries for help several weeks ago. It should be as simple as texting Willow a quick question, but nothing has felt simple for months.

Practicing no longer faking so many smiles and saying what I mean has only led me to grouch at Pollux whenever we're alone.

AKA right now.

"The tree was large," Pollux says.

"What?" I mumble as I pull myself from my thoughts and realize I have no idea where this conversation has ended up.

"You did not send me the background check so I could invite myself into class every day; however, I helped move the large tree into the appropriate location. Therefore, I am useful. This gives me worth by human standards."

My nose scrunches as I pass him more lights and glare. "Do not say it like that. That's horrible."

"Yet, true."

Yet true, indeed. But I hate everything about it.

I catch him watching me, and heat rises to my cheeks.

His lips curl in one corner as he pins another string in place and moves to the next location.

The Christmas music blaring in the other room shifts to "Santa Baby," and I gag. Of the few Christmas songs I can't stand, none activate my must vomit reflex like "Santa Baby."

Pollux listens for a moment, then logical distaste swarms into his expression. "This song…is about a young woman having an affair with Santa? The holiday symbol depicted as an overweight, elderly man?"

I groan. "Technically, it's tradition for fathers to dress up as Santa and deliver presents for the kids who are waiting up, so she's talking to her husband or boyfriend or whatever…but…yes…this one makes me uncomfortable, too. It's just…so aggressively flirty."

"The deceit woven throughout every facet of this holiday is significantly alarming. Why do you celebrate it again?"

I frown. Like an angry bee. Or the Grinch. Or Scrooge. Before their character development. "Because. It's fun. Christmas lights. And decorations. And cookies. And gingerbread houses."

"Sugar and electric bills? You enjoy this holiday because of the sugar and electric bills? Isn't heating in winter expensive enough without the addition of a dozen blow-up lawn ornaments and thousands of lights?"

I exaggerate my expression and point at my face. "Look. I'm emoting my inside thoughts. This one I call depression."

"Your mouth is making a very impressive complete upside down capital U." Lifting his hand, he swipes his thumb across my bottom lip. "It's precious."

My heart skips as I step back. "Pollux. Not where the kids might see."

"They're already making bets on which month you'll announce that you're pregnant."

My eyes go massive. "What?"

"I have a spy on the inside. So far, most are certain you'll plan your delivery for summer, so you don't miss any school. It's an apt speculation, and I am rather fond of the diligence it conveys in your character."

Red floods my entire body. I hiss, "Pollux, you are aware what needs to happen in order for pregnancy to occur, aren't you?"

He steps down off the footstool, scoots it to the center of the next few places that need pins, and steps onto it again before drawling, "I believe the humans often explain it as when a mommy and a daddy love each other veryyy much…"

I shove him.

He manages to keep his footing as he flashes me a dreadful grin. "The fae are more likely to just call it a word you'd rather I not say in this building."

I try again to plow him down, succeeding in absolutely nothing. He steps gracefully off the stool and out of my reach.

I lift the string of lights I'm holding. "Get over here so I can strangle you with these."

"Tempting, really. But we're within earshot of your littles, so I'm not encouraged to encourage that kind of behavior."

My eyes go massive. "Pollux. That is extremely inappropriate."

Leaning closer, he says, "Choke me."

I wish I kept more than plastic knives in this room. Although, potentially, threatening to stab him would make these specific matters worse.

Huffing, I turn my blazing face away from him and long for the repetitive, stable motions that come with crocheting, sewing, or embroidering. It feels like something inside me is about to burst, but I don't know what to do with the energy.

Apart from, potentially, stabbing a needle into something a couple hundred thousand times.

Through sheer force of will, I wait until the lights are all put up before I stretch my fingers, close my hands into fists, then open them again. I regain myself long enough to know decorating time is over, so I lift my chin. "You should stay in here and think about what you've done while I go teach math."

"If I don't stay near you, I may frighten a child," he reminds me as he crosses his arms and peers down his nose at me. "Why don't we go together and teach Chemistry instead?"

"Did you come up with that one all by yourself?"

He arches a brow. "No, I've been studying a book on human mating practices. There's an entire section full of outrageous pickup lines."

He cannot be serious. I mimic his stance. "Women don't like cheesy pickup lines, dreamboy."

"Shame. We'd be gouda together."

I bite my lips to keep an obnoxious laugh from exploding out of me. No matter how overwhelming the concept is, this awful man is entirely my soulmate. I feel the truth of that more each day, and it's both frustrating, enticing, and a little nerve racking to admit—even just within my own mind.

As I've said before, I hate how much I like him.

I hate it more every time he lowers his big frame so he can talk with a child as though he's conversing with a small adult. He doesn't talk down to anyone. He's so careful with everyone that it melts my heart.

Well, actually he's so careful with almost everyone.

He did, at Andromeda's request, throw her onto the gym roof to get a toy Josh tossed up there on Tuesday.

I am still coming to terms with the difference in durability between the fae children and the human children.

Pollux, thankfully, is not. Because when Josh asked to be thrown onto the roof afterward, he said ha ha, no.

Shaking my head, I turn away from Pollux before he can chew up even more of my perfect schedule. "Stop distracting me from math."

"You plus me equals—"

"And burn your flirting book."