Chapter 12

“Don’t forget your sweatshirt,” I say. It’s still balled up on my lap, although I managed to get myself put away before we got into town.

He gets out of the car and opens the back door, reaches in for his bag. “Keep it,” he says, pulling a green Pi Omega sweatshirt from his bag. Last year’s, judging by the way it hugs his love handles once he’s squeezed into it.

“Have a good Christmas,” he says. “Drive safe the rest of the way.” He throws me a wink and waggles his eyebrows, then turns and strolls into the store.