Meghan’s P.O.V.
As Blade drove through the freshly plowed streets toward Koda’s restaurant, I stared out the window, my nerves twisting into knots. The snow-covered world outside was beautiful, but all I could focus on was the prospect of spending Christmas with the entire Miller family.
Blade, of course, was oblivious—or at least pretending to be. His humming along to the crackly Christmas carols on the radio was as off-key as it was relentless. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Do you have to butcher every song?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him. But Blade smirked, keeping his gaze on the road.
“I’m not butchering; I’m adding flair.”
“Sounds more like you’re strangling them.”
“Someone’s extra salty today, is this you being in your festive mood?” he said, glancing at me with a
