by Jenna Reed
“Hawaii is nice and all, but Christmas there? What are you supposed to decorate? A palm tree? A rock on the beach? Besides Christmas should be spent with family—” Anita shakes her head and elbows Dave in the side.
“Sorry,” Dave says sheepishly.
“We’re very happy to have you and your brother here,” Anita dismisses her husband with a side glare.
“Speak for yourself,” Hannah shoves the green beans on her plate around.
“Hannah,” Anita scolds. I can’t help but smile, Hannah wears her hate like a comfy sweater, the one you never want to take off.
“What? You want me to lie?” She put a huge piece of chicken into her mouth and starts to chew it like she is angry at it.
“Can you just get over whatever you are mad at him for?” Laura asks, shooting her sister a pleading look.
“No,” Hannah simply says, without any further explanation, and I’m glad she doesn’t elaborate. I don’t think her dad would let me sit at this table if he knew what I’d done to his daughter in high school.
“Ugh, why do you always have to be so difficult?” Laura whines, and I think she stomps her foot under the table. “And don’t double dip in the cheese fondue! I don’t want your herpes.”
“It’s not herpes!” Hannah full-on yells now, her cheeks turning a soft pink. “I burned myself on pizza!”
“Girls,” Dave’s voice rises above everyone else’s, and I know he’s just trying to calm his daughters, but that seems to only cause more tension. Clearly fed up, Hannah gets up, grabs her plate, and stomps out of the room. Ten seconds later, a door slams shut, somewhere off in the distance. After that, the room falls into an awkward silence.
Jake clears his throat, “Thank you for having us. We really appreciate you taking us in for the holidays.”
“I’m sorry about Hannah,” I apologize for her. Only when the words have left my mouth, do I realize how weird that sounded. “I mean, I’m sorry about Hannah and me…” Nope, that’s not better. “I should have told you that Hannah and I don’t get along.” Saved it.
“It’s not your fault, she is being a big baby,” Laura says.
“Whatever happened between you two is in the past, I’m sure you’ll figure it out. It’s Christmas, after all. What better time than now to bury old hatchets and become friends?” Anita smiles.
“I hope so.” Although I doubt it. She hates my guts, and I don’t think eggnog and mistletoe are going to help change that. After dinner, I help Anita and Laura clean up in the kitchen. It’s better than having a run-in with Hannah.
Luckily, we manage to stay out of each other’s way for the rest of the night. The cabin is pretty big, so I didn’t think it would be a problem, at least not during the day. But right now, it’s not daytime, it’s eleven o’clock at night, and after being up since five this morning, I’m ready to hit the hay. Making my way through the house, I pray that she’s already asleep so I can just sneak in, and I won’t have to talk to her.
Turning down the hallway, I freeze mid-step because standing at the other end of the hall is Hannah. The moment she looks up and finds me standing there like an idiot, her face falls. She must have been upstairs this whole time.
“I was just getting ready to go to bed,” she announces, and I’m not sure why she is telling me this. Like I care when she goes to bed.
“Okay, I’m not stopping you. I’m going to bed too.” Is she expecting me to turn around and come back later? I don’t understand. Forcing my legs to work again, I head toward the bedroom we are about to share for the next week.
A deep scowl forms on her face, and she heads toward me. I open the door, and she walks in before I can, shouldering right past me. Well, that’s rude as fuck. When I came in here earlier, I had deposited my bag on the bottom bunk bed.
Since then, my duffle bag has been replaced by a deep purple suitcase, one that I’m assuming is Hannah’s. My bag, of course, is on the floor, half of the stuff spilled out since the now open bag looks to have been thrown off the bed, maybe even kicked?
“What did my bag ever do to you?”
“The bag did nothing, it’s the owner that’s a total jerk.”
“That’s fair,” I mumble and start picking up my stuff. I glance up at her and catch a surprised look covering her features. Does she think I don’t know that I’m a jerk? Or was. Before I can think much about it or even say anything, she starts talking again.
“I’m sleeping on the bottom bunk.”
“I gathered that much,” I say sarcastically. She huffs and disappears into the attached bathroom with some clothes tucked under her arm.
While she is gone, I strip out of my clothes, down to my boxers. I didn’t know I would be sharing a room, so I didn’t bring anything to wear to sleep in. She’ll just have to deal with it. I’m about to climb up onto the top bunk when the bathroom door opens, and she steps back into the room wearing some candy cane flannel pajamas and a white camisole. Unable to hide my amusement from the way her face reddens, I smirk.
“Can’t you put some clothes on?” She stomps across the room and flops onto her mattress like a hormonal teenager. The bed creaks with the movement. Hopefully, she doesn’t move a lot in her sleep. Otherwise, neither of us will get any sleep.
“Nope. Besides, you looked like you enjoyed the view. I think I might have even seen some drool.”
“Shut up!” She yells.
I chuckle deeply and start climbing up the wooden slats of the bed. The entire bed sways with each move I make, and for a moment, I’m worried it will give out under my weight. After all, this is a bed made for kids, not full-grown adults. Carefully, I proceed onto the mattress, the whole thing creaking as I go.
“Okay, stop! I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to die tonight,” Hannah yells from down below. “Get off the top, before the bed collapses on top of me.” She scurries away as if the bed is going to crumble into a million pieces at any moment.
“Calm down,” I soothe and climb off, jumping to the floor when I’m halfway down the ladder. Without another word, she brushes past me and climbs up the ladder, which seems to be going much better with only her weight.
I wait until she is over the edge so I can get a nice view of her perfectly shaped butt as she bends over. I don’t feel bad about checking her out, mainly because I know she checked me out just now, and I’m wearing nothing but my underwear while she is nearly fully clothed.
As soon as she is in bed, she turns away from me, settling onto her side. Shaking my head at her stubbornness, I slam down onto the bottom bunk and tug the covers up and over my body, stopping once they reach my chin.
“Good night, sweet cheeks,” I yawn, thinking about that firm, ready to squeeze ass of hers. I wonder what it would look like all pink?
“Shut up, creep,” she grumbles, making me smile. I think about apologizing to her for being such a prick when we were younger but decide to hold my tongue. Truthfully, I like Hannah like this; snarky and sarcastic.
This Christmas might turn out to be one hell of a good one.
3
Hannah
Climbing out of bed, I stomp to the bathroom, making sure I’m extra loud, so I wake Jonas up. Or at least annoy him a little. I purposely avert my vision as not to look at his half-naked body. It was enough having to go to sleep knowing he was right there, lying under me.
“So, you’re not a morning person, I guess.” Jonas’s voice is sleepy. He groans like he is stretching, and I have to force myself not to turn around and gawk at him. I need to remember how much I hate him. How much he hurt me in high school.
“Hannah,” Lily calls my name again, knocking softly at the bathroom stall. “It’s gonna be okay.”
“Nothing is okay,” I sob. “Everybody saw the picture. The whole freaking school.”
More tears stream down my face. What did I ever do to him? Why would Jonas do this to me? I hate him so much. I will always hate him for this.
Stepping into the small bathro
om, I slam the door shut behind me. I wish the thing had a lock, but of course, it doesn’t.
Gazing into the mirror, I have to agree with him for once. I am not a morning person, none whatsoever, and if it weren’t for him being in the room making me uncomfortable, I would probably sleep all day. Especially knowing that my mom would eventually bring some food to my room. Ahh, those were the days. When food was brought to you, and you had no bills, and you could do whatever you wanted all day.
Without looking, I grab my toothbrush from the sink and smear some toothpaste on it. I count to sixty and hum the jingle bells tune in my head while brushing. When I get to fifty-two, my eyes catch on something odd sitting next to the sink.
My toothbrush.
It takes me a whole two seconds to put one and two together, and when I do, I pull the toothbrush out of my mouth and look at it. OMG! No. Instantly, my gag reflex kicks in. Spit flies everywhere, covering the mirror and the sink in a flash.
Turning on the water, I hold my head under the faucet to rinse out my mouth.
This is so disgusting. I’m pretty sure I just had Jonas’s toothbrush in my mouth. All over again, I start to gag.
“Hey, are you okay in there?” Jonas’s muffled voice filters through the closed door. “You sound like you’re choking. Need me to do the Heimlich?”
Without bothering to wipe my face, I open the door, holding his toothbrush out like I’m showing him what he did wrong.
“Is this yours?” I ask, spit and water dripping down my chin.
“Yeah,” he says, confusion coating his voice. My stomach churns, and I feel the need to wash out my mouth again, maybe with bleach this time. Definitely with bleach.
Frowning, I admit, “I just used your toothbrush.”
Like the asshole he is, he starts laughing like I just told him the funniest joke he’s ever heard. “It’s kind of like you frenched kissed me.”
“Eww,” I whine and push past him and into the room. His skin burns against mine, and as my gaze drifts over his body, I realize he is still in nothing more than his boxers. “And for the love of god put some clothes on! This isn’t your apartment. It’s a family cabin, and it’s Christmas. Not a GQ spread.”
How the hell am I going to keep my head straight with him flaunting his abs, bulging pecs, and muscular shoulders? Suddenly my mind drifts… I bet he could hold me up while fucking me against the wall...
Stop! Do. Not. Think. Like. That. Jesus, look at me already drooling over the jerk-face.
“Does my nakedness bother you?” Jonas snickers.
“No, it’s just you, all of you… every single part of you.”
“I’m sure that some parts of me don’t,” he says, teasing me. He even winks, or maybe he’s got something in his eye. Wait, is he flirting? No, he is being an asshole, that’s all. Ignoring what he said, I sit down and put my wool socks on.
Just as I’m pulling the second one on, I hear loud laughter carrying through the house. Getting up, I open the door, and I’m met with my grandma’s cheery voice, which is coming from downstairs. Excitement grips onto me, and I speed walk down the hall and down the stairs doing my best not to trip along the way.
“Nana!” I squeal like a five-year-old. To be fair, I haven’t seen my grandma since last Christmas. That seems to be the only time we can manage to all get together as a family.
The front door is still open when I reach my grandma and wrap my arms around her. Cold wind from outside whips against my face, making me shiver.
“How are you, Hannah, my sweet grandbaby?” she coos, rubbing her warm hands down my back.
“Nana, I’m twenty-five. Not a baby anymore,” I giggle, another gust of wind comes from the outside. “Can someone close the door already?”
That’s the moment Darla chooses to walk into the house, looking like a designer boutique threw up on her. With oversized Gucci sunglasses covering half of her face, a white fur coat, dark skinny jeans, and high-heeled boots, one would think she was going to a nightclub or out with the girls, not a family gathering. Then I notice that she is pulling a large pink suitcase behind her, big enough to hold clothes for three weeks instead of one. What the hell? Who is this girl?
“Hannah,” she greets me while looking me up and down with a judging eye. “I have another suitcase out in the car, do you mind getting it for me?”
Is she freaking serious, right now? Of course, she is, it’s Darla.
“Hello to you too, Darla. I do mind, considering that I’m in my pajamas and that I’m not your butler.”
She opens her mouth, no doubt about to come back with a snarky remark when something behind me catches her attention.
“I can get your suitcase for you,” Jonas chimes in, coming down the stairs completely dressed. Darla’s eyes go wide as she takes in Jonas. She licks her lips and takes off her too-big sunglasses. Dear Lord in heaven…
“Oh, hi. If you could get it for me, that would be super nice,” she chirps while batting her coal-black eyelashes at him.
“No problem,” he winks at her and walks out. A nasty icky feeling creeps up my spine and coats my insides. It’s almost like… it feels like it might be. No, it can’t be. I’m not jealous! I yell at myself in my head, but it doesn’t make it any less true.
“I was going to apologize for forcing you to room with this guy, but after seeing him, I should say you’re welcome,” my grandma giggles.
“Nana…” I shake my head at her. She has no idea. Not the first clue about the kind of guy Jonas is.
“What? He is a fine male specimen, and if I were your age, I would climb that man like a tree.”
“Nana! Oh my god,” I can’t help but laugh at her dirty-minded humor, feeling lighthearted all of a sudden. My nana has always known how to make me smile. Of course, Darla takes that moment to sour my mood.
“Is that herpes on your face?” Darla’s annoying voice makes the whole thing even worse. All I want to do is get away from this. From him and now from her.
“I swear if I hear the word herpes one more time…” I leave the threat wide open, mostly because I don’t know what’s going to happen. Maybe my head will explode, fake herpes going everywhere. Or maybe I’ll lose my shit and punch them in the face. Russian roulette.
“Whatever, I’m going to go enjoy a hot shower. Tell the hottie to bring my suitcase into the living room, will ya?” She shoves past us, going to greet the rest of the family.
“His name is Jonas,” I growl through my clenched teeth, feeling the unwanted jealousy returning with a vengeance. What the hell is wrong with me? I should be glad she’s here, those two are made for each other. Mean, egotistical, and selfish. I swear you couldn’t have put two better people together.
“Do I sense some hostility?” Grandma snickers and I can already see that she’s piecing the puzzle pieces together.
“No, Grandma, whatever you’re thinking it’s a no. I’m going to go take a shower, and then I’ll come back down, and we can catch up with some hot coco?”
Grandma smiles, and my body warms all over, there is nothing like your grandma. She’s like your favorite blanket, the one that has been with you through everything.
“Of course, hurry along.” She ushers me away, and I shake my head, a smile still on my lips. Walking back the way I just came, a little slower this time, I head into the room. As soon as I enter, I’m greeted with Jonas’s intoxicating scent. He smells like pine and cinnamon, and man. I have got to stop thinking about him like this.
He’s nothing, just some jerk that made every day of my life growing up horrendous. Searching through my suitcase, I find some Christmas leggings and a long-sleeve T-shirt. Then I go into the bathroom and strip out of my clothes.
Turning the water to hot, I wait till the bathroom starts to fill with steam before I step into the shower. Yes, a shower was exactly what I needed. Slowly the water helps to ease my tense muscles, that wouldn’t be so tense if it weren’t for Jonas. Shoving the jerk from my mind, I wash my hair an
d body. I rinse thoroughly and then hop out.
It isn’t until I’m standing there on the bath mat, dripping like a wet dog that I realize I don’t have a towel. Shit. Of all the things to forget to grab. Standing there, I try and figure out what the hell I’m going to do. Tiptoeing to the door, I’m startled when I hear a loud commotion in the bedroom. A scream catches in my throat as the door comes flying open, and Jonas of all people appears in front of me.
“Get out!” I squeal like a pig, trying to cover my vag and boobs at the same time, while quickly realizing I don’t have enough hands.
“Fuck, Jesus. I’m sorry,” he says, his features tight, although his eyes don’t stop their perusal over my body. I can see carnal need reflecting in his dark depths, and I have to remind myself that he is a complete asshole.
“Oh my god! Stop staring at me. Grab the towel on the bottom bunk, jerk-face,” I order, and almost sigh in relief when he absentmindedly turns, grabs the towel and tosses it at me. I wrap it around myself, wishing it was as big as a comforter so it could cover every inch of my flesh. I feel so bare and exposed right now. As if he’s in shock, he just stands there staring at my now partially covered body.
“Jonas,” I yell his name this time, and that does it. Suddenly, he’s snapping out of it, his eyes go from feral to annoyed in a second.
“It’s not my fault you were in here, and you don’t have to be such a prude. You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before.”
I roll my eyes and point out of the room, “Get out!”
Shaking his head, he turns and slams the door. I’m certain that my embarrassment is over, but then he goes and opens his mouth again.
“I will say you have nice tits though.”
Growling, I tip my head back and stare at the ceiling. I can’t believe my archenemy just saw me naked, and worse yet, he thinks my boobs are nice.
What the hell?
Santa, please, help me. Orange isn’t a good color for me, and murder is looking better and better with each second.
