Page 7 of Hostile for the Holidays

“Fine. But keep them safe. They’re my favorite holiday earrings and since my sweater is already ruined, I don’t want to lose them, too.”

She’s not wrong. The soft cardigan sweater I’d brushed up against when we were fighting over the arm rest didn’t fare well. Luckily, she had a tank top on underneath. The stretchy cropped tank top is low cut and has been giving me an eyeful of Stella’s cleavage for the past two hours.

Pulling my gaze from her breasts, I will myself to focus on the task at hand.

I gently remove the wreath-shaped baubles and place their backings on before tucking them away in Stella’s leather travel backpack.

With her earrings out, she snuggles into my lap, looking far more relaxed.

“I can’t keep my eyes open. I have to rest,” she mumbles. “Please don’t write on my face. At least not with a permanent marker. I’ve got my sister’s wedding next week and she’ll kill me if I’ve got Sharpie on my face in her wedding photos.”

I brush my thumb against her cheek, grateful for any excuse to touch her.

“I could draw a little mustache.” My finger traces a swirl above her plush lips on one side, then the other. “Maybe some devil horns.” I sweep my fingertip along her forehead, sketching the invisible horns.

“Come on. That’s so unoriginal. That’s what you did to me in the class photo in third grade.”

“It’s a classic.”

I’m quiet a moment, my fingertip continuing to trace lines around her face.

“Are you excited for Sadie’s wedding?” I ask.

She makes a noncommittal sound. Maybe that’s all she has energy for right now or it could also be that she’s not looking forward to it.

“Do you have a date?” I ask.

“I’m not answering that.”

“It’s a simple yes or no question.”

I’ve remained calm for this entire plane ride, but the moment we start talking about Stella’s potential date, my heart starts to race. She said she was single, not in a committed relationship, but she could still have a casual date to her sister’s wedding.

“Not from you.” She takes in a deep breath, then exhales.

“I’m trying to make conversation.” From her silence, I can tell she’s not in the mood for it, so I deflect to taking care of her. “You ready to have some more water?”

“Yeah.”

I prop her up enough so the water doesn’t spill down her front, then hold the plastic cup so she can drink.

“If you tell anyone about this, I will deny it, then make your life miserable.”

“More than you already do?” I quip, just for old times’ sake.

“Funny. Just remember, if you thought I was a stubborn menace in high school, think of the resources I have now. A credit card, for starters. Friends who can troll you on social media. The possibilities are endless.”

She’s adorable.

“Sure, Stella. I won’t tell anyone.”

She shivers.

“Are you cold?”

“No.”

Her teeth chatter while goosebumps break out across her skin. Not to mention the two hard peaks poking through the front of her tank top. Fuck.

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