Page 6 of Mistletoe Mistake
My parents worked their asses off to give me the life they felt I deserved, so they were gone a lot. Too much, and I spent a lot of years angry at them for that. But my birthday and Christmas were the two days a year I could always count on them being there, from sunup to sundown. They were my favorite days of the year, and I hate that she never experienced the pure happiness those days are supposed to give children.
Holly leans forward, her eyes glued to the TV as she flicks through the channels, completely oblivious to the plan that is currently forming in my mind.
A plan that does not bode well for my promise to stay away from my best friend’s sister.
“Holly,” I start, grabbing her attention. “I have a proposal for you.”
3
Holly
“Freaking sweatpants!” I shriek at Billie. “It’s the sweatpant’s fault. I was rendered useless by his dick print. It’s the only explanation for why I agreed to this ridiculousness.”
I snuggle into the cushions that Billie and I insist on keeping piled high on our couch, and tighten my hold on the mug of peppermint hot chocolate that is warming my fingers.
“I don’t know,” Billie muses from the kitchen where she’s cleaning up. “From everything you’ve told me aboutNick.” She says his name in a swoony manner that I find highly offensive. “You would agree to anything he offered.”
“That is not helpful.” I sink lower into the sofa, pulling my knees up to my chest. My eyes follow her as she moves around the room and I have to stifle a sigh. She’s been like this ever since she moved in almost a year ago. I wish she trusted that I asked her to be my roommate because I love her company. Not because I need a quasi housekeeper.
“And you just took off this morning without talking to him about his plan?”
“Will you stop, please.” I wave my hand around in the general direction of the kitchen and pat the seat next to me. “Come and sit, so you can properly humor me.”
I can practically feel her eye roll from the other side of the room, but she throws the cloth she was scrubbing the counters with into the sink and slowly makes her way over.
“Fine,” she huffs, plopping down. “So, you were about to tell me how you ran away like a little bitch?”
The pillow behind my back comes in handy when I throw it at her.
“I didn’trun away,” I snap. “He was out when it was time for me to come here. It was just a happy coincidence.”
“Holly.” She levels me with a stare that has me wriggling in my seat. “I wasn’t even awake when you got here, and Troy isn’t dropping Tahlia off for another—” She glances at her watch. “Half an hour. You’ve been here for at least three hours longer than necessary.At least.”
God, she’s such a smart-ass, why am I friends with her again?
“I needed to come over and make sure the apartment was clean and kid ready.” I smile smugly and throw in a mentalso there, because I’m a petty Betty.
“You have been sitting on your ass, drinking that revolting peppermint chocolate concoction and reading trashy magazines since you got here.”
“How do you know? You were fast asleep when I got here, lazybones,” I challenge.
Okay, the lazy comment might have been a step too far. Billie’s porcelain skin flushes a deep, angry red that makes her freckles stand out even more. When her nostrils start to flare, I know I’m in trouble.
“Lazy? I was sleeping because I worked until two in the morning at the pizzeria,afterworking a full day atAvondale, I might add, and today is the first day off I’ve had in five weeks.” She kicks her foot out at me, catching me on my shin, inflicting the pain I deserve. “Lazy, my ass, you shithead.”
Giving my shin a rub, I throw her a wide-eyed look, feeling awful. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I’m all off-kilter because of Nick,” I groan. “Maybe I should just come back home while he’s staying there?”
Billie grabs up a magazine off the coffee table and starts thumbing through it. “I don’t know, it’s like he said, what’s the point? If he’s only going to be there a couple of days, it seems like it would be more trouble than it’s worth.” She glances up at me. “Is his plan really so terrible?”
“He wants to teach me to love Christmas, Billie. That—that’s,” I stutter incredulously, trying to think of a way to verbalize the ludicrousness of his proposition. “Impossible! It’simpossible. I’ve tried to enjoy Christmas and it never works. But he thinks he’s going to waltz into my life, with his dreamy green eyes and his chiseled jaw… his muscly arms with that sleeve of tattoos… God, what is it about tattoos that is such a turn on?”
“I feel like you’re going off on a bit of a tangent there, Hols.” Billie’s eyes stay glued to the pages in her lap. “And, also, you might need to cut back on the romance novels.”
“What? Oh.” I give my head a small shake to clear it before leaning down to put my empty mug on the table. “Okay, here’s the thing.”
“Tell me the thing. God,please, tell me the thing.” My roommate licks her thumb and turns the page while side-eyeing me.
“I don’t appreciate your sarcasm, Billie, but frankly, I’m too desperate to care.” She snorts out a laugh which, again, I choose to ignore. “I’ve had a crush on Nick since I was eight years old and I watched him tackle my brother in a game of backyard football.”
