Page 55 of The Anaconda Downstairs

PENELOPE

“Pen, are you sure this disguise is enough?” Kelsey's voice was muffled behind the oversized Mustangs scarf wrapped around her face, leaving only her eyes visible. We were just about to pull up to the stadium for the Mustangs' Christmas Day game.

I glanced at her, suppressing a smile. With her signature golden locks tucked under a matching Mustangs beanie and her curvy frame drowning in an enormous blue and orange puffy coat, she looked more like a mega fan than a mega pop star.

“Trust me, Kels. No one's going to recognize you like this,” I assured her, adjusting my own matching outfit and tote bag filled with carefully wrapped presents. “Plus, stadium security knows the drill. We're just taking extra precautions since the media and your fans all know how much you love Christmas.”

Kelsey's parents owned a year-round Christmas store, which she'd grown up in. She nodded, her eyes crinkling in what I assumed was a smile. “You're right. We'll be in the VIP suite before anyone can blink. And this is still better than hiding in the cleaning cart.”

I laughed, but my stomach did a little flip. If only she knew how much I was hiding from her lately. The guilt of keeping myshiny new relationship with Everett a secret from my best friend gnawed at me, especially since she was the one who encouraged me to examine my feelings for him.

But I pushed it aside. We'd tell her and Declan soon enough. Today wasn't about that. Today was about Christmas with the Kingmans.

The thought sent a different kind of nervousness fluttering through me. Christmas with Everett's family felt different from all the other times I'd hung out with them all. Getting to be a part of a holiday like this was more official. More... family.

Not that I actually knew. My dad and I never even did a Christmas tree.

“What do I know about real family?” I muttered to myself as the car pulled up to the VIP entrance.

“What was that?” Kelsey asked, Wiener the Pooh yapping from inside her coat as the security team opened the doors to usher us out.

“Nothing,” I said quickly, flashing the passes to the stadium security. “Just making sure all of our ducks are in a row.”

Kelsey's eyes softened. “What would I do without you, Pen?”

I smiled weakly, hiding it behind my scarf. I was the one who was supposed to support her, but she was always there for me. If only she knew the real reason for my nerves. If only I did. My mind was a jumble ever since Ev and I spent the night together.

What even was this life?

We made our way through the plush corridors, which weren't busy yet. We were here early so we could have a whole Christmas dinner and present exchange before the game.

I swiped our keycards for the suite, and before I could even lower my hand to grab the handle and open it, the door flew open. We were immediately engulfed in a whirlwind of noise and warmth.

“Penelope, Kelsey,” Jules's excited voice cut through the chaos. “You made it. Oh my gawd, what are you wearing? You look like Mustang Marshmallow people. Just watch, that look will be all the rage by New Year’s.”

As Kelsey shed her disguise and Wiener the Pooh emerged to much cooing, I found myself swept into the Kingman family's orbit once again. The suite was a buzz of activity, with Mr. Kingman—still a Zaddy even in a really crazy ugly Christmas sweater, was holding court with the Manniways and the Jerrys near the big screen, showing pregame coverage.

“Glad you girls could join us,” he boomed, his silvering hair gleaming under the lights. He rubbed his hands together like a little kid excited to open presents. “Now we can do the white elephant exchange.Fair warning ladies, the Kingmans play to win, even at Christmas presents.”

I grinned, feeling some of my anxiety melt away, and stage whispered to Kelsey. “Kingmans? Competitive at a game? I'm shocked. Shocked I tell you.”

The next hour was a blur of laughter, good-natured ribbing, and increasingly ridiculous gifts. I watched in awe as the Kingmans fell into what was clearly a well-practiced routine, their banter flowing easily as they unwrapped everything from novelty socks to a disturbingly realistic rubber chicken, that, for some reason, made Trixie blush so hard she had to excuse herself.

“Oh man,” Jules cackled as she unwrapped a pair of blindingly sparkly mittens. “These are almost as bad as Everett's bedazzled jockstrap.”

I nearly choked on my spiked hot chocolate. “I'm sorry, what?”

Jules's eyes lit up with mischief. “Oh, you haven't heard that story? It was Everett's rookie year, and he'd just gotten theKnightWear sponsorship, you know, for the tighty-whities. So we decided he needed something to wear for his photoshoot.”

Jules launched into the tale, complete with dramatic reenactments of Everett's reaction, and I found myself relaxing into the warm, chaotic embrace of the Kingman family Christmas. For the first time in years, I felt a twinge of something I hadn't expected—a sense of belonging.

And as I sat there, surrounded by laughter and twinkling lights, I allowed myself to imagine, just for a moment, what it might be like to truly be a part of this family. To have this every year, to be more than just Everett's secret girlfriend or Kelsey's assistant.

To be home.

The excitement of the gift exchange gradually gave way to a more focused energy as kickoff approached. We all settled into our seats, a sea of Mustangs orange and blue.

“Alright, folks,” Zaddy Kingman announced, his voice carrying that unmistakable father slash coach's authority. “Let's see what our boys can do.”

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