Page 45 of The Holiday Hookup List
“No. We have an agreement. Effective until Christmas Eve.”
He sounds so stubborn that I scoff. “Are you going to sue me for breach of contract?”
“I’m simply reminding you that we have adeal.” The words press through gritted teeth.
I toss my newly straightened hair over one shoulder and try to sound flippant. “I’m letting you out of it.”
“Valencia, I don’twantto get out of it.”
“You should. Why stay in New York alone when you could be in Paris with your mother?”
“I won’tbealone.”
The unspoken words hang in the air between us:I’ll be with you.
But I can’t let him do this for me. And I can’t have him feeling guilty for abandoning me. That’s taking things too far.
“The list ends tomorrow night, remember? We never agreed to spend Christmas Day together.”
His eyes blaze. “Then we’llrenegotiate the fucking terms.”
I hug myself and turn away. “I’m too tired to argue. Go to France, Gideon.”
“Only if you come with me.”
“What?” That brings me up short, and I stare at him.
He’s regained his composure, and he’s wearing what must be his lawyer face. I know, because it looks a lot like mine—tight jaw, firm lips, brow smooth but somehow menacing. It’s his eyes that change the most, though. They’re impenetrable, like a wall of ice.
I attempt to chip away at it. “I can’t fuck off to France with you.”
“Do you have a passport?” he asks calmly. “I’ll buy your ticket right now.”
Lord. I can’t let this man buy me an international plane ticket, probably first class, within a week and a half of reunitingwith him. Even if the fact that he offered without a second thought gives me a thrill.
“No, Gideon. Anyway, I’m expected at the Mulhollands’ for dinner tomorrow.”
His expression darkens. “Valencia, I will bedamnedif you visit your ex for Christmas without me.”
“And I’m not going to let you miss the holidays with your one remaining parent because ofme!” The words are torn from my throat with more force than I’d intended, but I can’t stop. “If you knew what I would give to have one more Christmas with mine ...” I cut off that thought, shaking my head vehemently. “I can’t let you make that kind of sacrifice for me. Iwon’t. Consider our agreement terminated, effective immediately.”
“Valencia—”
“Leave it alone, Noble!”
My words crack like a whip, and he stills. All emotion drains from his face, leaving his eyes the cold, hard jade I remember from our youth.
“Are we back to that, Torres?” His voice is chilly, with a slight emphasis on my last name. It’s completely at odds with the heartfelt yearning I heard a second ago when he said my first.
I’ve hurt him. I didn’t want to, but I don’t know how else to do this.
“Go to France,” I say for the third time, and my voice cracks a little. “Please, Gideon. Just ... go. Now.”
He stares at me for a long time, but I can’t meet his gaze. Finally, he sighs. In three long strides, he’s past me and yanking his coat off the hook by my apartment door.
And then he’s gone.
I slump into a chair at my dining table, blinking at the little Christmas tree covered in ornaments he bought for me. The lights blur as my eyes fill with tears, and I think about the red envelope I slipped into his stocking just this morning.
