Page 50 of I Knew You Were Trouble

“Hmm?”

“Your parents.” She rolls her head to meet my eyes. “I hope they come for Christmas.”

I’d like to say me too, but I’m not sure what I want.

“You close to your parents?” I ask, dropping my gaze to her leg. She’s wearing an awful pair of red sweats, her fingers playing with the drawstring. The tiniest spot of paint spatter stains the hip.

“Yes. Not physically, but… emotionally?” She laughs. “I know I’m lucky in that aspect.”

“You’re lucky in a lot of aspects,” I say pointedly. She rolls her eyes but doesn’t disagree.

“I’m not lucky enough to have Christmas plans, though.” She nudges me. “Just found out Mom and Dad are stuck in Paris.”

“How sad for them.”

“Right?” Her smile falters. “So it’ll be me and the spider’s corpse for Christmas this year.”

“We both know you cleaned that corpse up a long time ago.”

“Can’t fool you.”

“You really got no one to spend Christmas with?” With her money and comforts, I feel like she should have some party to go to or some fancy place to fly to in a private jet.

But she shakes her head and lifts a shoulder. “I’m used to being alone.”

Well, that’s not okay with me. I curl my hand in a fist and lightly knock on her upper thigh. “You should hang with me and my sisters.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“I’m serious.” I lift my eyes and wait until she meets my gaze. But when she does, I lose my nerve, and I scramble for an excuse to have her at my house. “I could use the help, actually. It’s my first year playing Santa.”

“You haven’t even wrapped anything, have you,” she accuses. Accurately.

“I’d first have to get wrapping paper…”

“You are hopeless.” She sighs, but it’s light and friendly, like I’m not hopeless at all. “You do realize it’s the twenty-first.”

“Is that bad?”

“Pete…”

“See?” I put my hands together. “Please help me.”

She snorts and pushes my hands down to my lap. Her hand lingers longer than usual, and she jerks back, eyeing me like she hopes I didn’t notice.

I noticed.

“What time?” she croaks out, reaching up to twist at the end of her ponytail.

“Well, I’ll be picking Demi up at seven-ish when I get off work. We’ll do cookies and shit that night.”

“You got the Christmas Eve shift? Yuck.”

“Requested it.” The corner of my mouth twitches. “Need the holiday time.”

She nods, taking in a long, deep breath. When she breathes out, I get the scent of candied apples—something I’ve come to associate with her. “I can head over early. Get all the gifts wrapped and hidden for you. Get out of your hair so you can have time with your sisters.”

“You don’t have to do that.” The way she jerks at my haste must have her wondering if I don’t want her in my place without me, but really, I don’t want her to be there and disappear before I get the chance to see her. “We can wrap when she hits the hay.”

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