With restraint he didn’t realize he possessed, Nick stepped backward, unwound the boa from around his neck, and draped it over hers. Then he lifted her hair free, a contrasting shade to the feathers, and gave the whole red mess a quick smoothing. “You know? I think I prefer arguing.”
It was much safer that way.
Eight Days Before Christmas
Me:
Do you know how hard it is to be attracted to someone you’re supposed to hate?
Piper:
I’m guessing Operation: Naughty List has hit a snag?
Remember that time I took up crochet?
I’m sure I have that “purse” you made me around here somewhere…
Relax. I’m not asking because of that. But wait—why the air quotes??
Autocorrect.
Sure. Anyway. More snags than that purse. It’s harder than I thought to be obnoxious to someone who could be John Krasinski’s stunt double.
Wait. Are we talking John as Jim Halpert, or John in that role as a Navy Seal?
Somewhere in between. That’s not the point.
I’m pretty sure that’s a point. But regardless, you could, you know…NOT be obnoxious and just enjoy time with your family.
I’m not quitting my mission after one day. I need this.
You could just tell him the truth. Give him a chance to apologize.
No way. Then I’m just stuck being awkward and pathetic the rest of the holiday.
Is there a sighing emoji?
It’ll be fine. I can ignore Nick’s John Krasinski-ness. Besides, it gets easier when I remember what he and my brother are trying to get away with.
Ah, holidays.
Tis the season for revenge.
I had to up my game. It was a new day after all. My attraction to Nick yesterday while draping him in red feathers was a fluke. Even if for a moment—a brief, super-fast, incredibly quick moment—I wondered if he felt the attraction too.
It didn’t matter. I had to focus. After he’d fled the media room, which meant I must be doingsomethingright with Operation: Naughty List, we hadn’t had a chance to be alone again. Mom had laid out a big sandwich spread so everyone could eat dinner whenever they were hungry, and the kids turned on an endless loop of Christmas movies while the adults alternated between slathering mayo on bread, playing rounds of Uno Attack, and periodically reminding Janie and Mason to quit eating sugar.
Nick had jumped right in, joining in my sisters’ banter and even slamming down a Hit 2 card on Olivia, much to her grudging respect. That earned me another silently mouthedhusband materialwhile I pretended to help myself to a second sandwich.
Nick wasn’t nearly miserable enough. And now it was eight days until Christmas and my birthday, but no one was counting except me.
Things had to get real.
That’s what I told myself, anyway, as I stood outside Nick’s door at six in the morning in my decade-old robe and affixed one final piece of tape to the gold tinsel crisscrossing the frame. Much to Kat’s annoyance as my roomie, I couldn’t sleep last night for planning my next round of shenanigans. And while many of them weren’t feasible—that is, I didn’t have access to an airplane skywriter or a swimming pool—some of them stuck.
Sort of like the hot mess of garland, cotton balls, and greenery currently sticking to the media room’s door. I grinned and stepped back to admire my chaotic handiwork. It looked like someone had raided an art teacher’s supply cabinet during theholidays and thrown the contents against the wall. Now to make it back to my bed without the creaky stairs waking anyone up—
Before I could make my escape, Nick’s door swung open. A very sleepy, very disheveled Nick stood on the other side, blinking in bare feet. He wore wrinkled gray sweatpants and a black T-shirt that wasn’t rumpled at all, meaning he probably hadn’t slept in it.
