Page 42 of Holiday Hopefuls
“You just keep thinking that, Callie.” Mr. Rhodes winks, readjusting the box in his arm. “And please know, you’re welcome here anytime.”
By no means or standards am I a crier. With my family, it’d just be seen as another weakness. But the immediate loosening in my chest and the breath of relief felt deep in my bones? Those send tears straight to my traitorous eyes. “Thank you,” I whisper.
Marshall nods right as a shriek sounds from the kitchen.
“Callie!”
Oliver flinches toward me, fingertips gripping into my back. “Geez, Blythe. I think you just burst my eardrum.”
“Did not, you big baby.” My pilates instructor barrels toward us, stopping just short of plowing us down. Fists planted on her tiny hips, incredulous eyes pin me in place. “Callie, what the hell?”
Oliver steps slightly in front of me. “Easy,” he warns. Peeking over his shoulder, he catches my gaze. “Do you two … know each other?”
“I’ve only been trying to get her to go out with you formonthsnow.” Blythe rolls eyes that look exactly like Oliver’s.
I truly have no idea how I missed the resemblance. I’ve only seen Blythe about eight times since Oliver and I first met.
My very hot, very fake boyfriend scratches his chin, shrugging. “Well, I guess she took your advice.”
Stepping around him, I hold up my hands in surrender. “Also, to be fair, you never said his name.” Slowly, a smile replaces the concern on my features. “But I guess you were right—I would like your brother.”
Blythe peers at me for the longest minute of my life, and that includes the time Prescott was certain I put a dead fly in his pudding when I was nine, and made me stand there while he strained it.
Fighting the desperate urge to crawl back behind Oliver, I try to practice breathing techniques taught to me by the very woman standing before me.
Crossing her arms, Blythe finally leans back. But that narrowed gaze never lessens. “How did you two meet, then?”
Panic. Choking. Instant death.
We never came up with a backstory. How could I have been so remiss about such an important detail?
“Met her at Cici’s Halloween party for school.” Oliver slides an arm around my shoulder, giving me an easy grin.The weight of his arm is reassuring, comforting.
My arms snake around his waist as I lean into his side.And cue the heart eyes to the man pretending to be mine.
Oliver wastes no time looking at me like we should never be apart ever again.
Skepticism takes over Blythe’s every feature. “Why did you go to Ci’s school party?”
“She needed to bring desserts.” The man shrugs, breaking our faux intimate eye contact. So nonchalant, like he didn’t want to just keel over and die when his sister asked such a simple question. “I made some brownies and took them up to the school. Callie asked if I wanted to stay for the party. How could I resist her?”
Blythe’s curiosity melts into a satisfied smile of acceptance just in time for their mom to round the corner with Nacho in tow.
“Honey, let your brother and his girlfriend actually come into the house.” Sandra wipes her hands on a towel before tossing it over her shoulder.
Rolling her eyes, Blythe makes her way to the couch, where she unceremoniously plops down beside her dad.
Nacho takes the liberty of unabashedly throwing herself across her couch mates. Twisting so she’s in the optimal positionfor belly rubs, Blythe’s black jeans and navy blouse instantly gain golden highlights from Nacho’s hair.
“I feel like I should be worried,” I whisper as Oliver guides me toward the kitchen.
“Why is that?” His breath is warm on my ear, sending shivers down my spine at the unexpected closeness. He must notice my brain malfunctioning, because he applies the smallest pressure from the arm still around my shoulder.
“Because of how good you are at this.”At making me feel like you care.
“Which part?” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to my temple. To the rest of his family, it’ll only look like he’s whispering some sweet nothing in my ear.
Giggling, I complete the look.
