Unwrapping His Package

“What put that silly smile on your face?” my best friend asked as she walked into my room with her boyfriend trailing after her. The two of them had basically been joined at the hip ever since Leland asked Olivia out for their first date two years ago. She’d really lucked out with him, and I envied how easily they’d fallen into a serious relationship.

I’d barely dated since my freshman year and tended to get ghosted by guys on a regular basis without even making it to the first date. Before I gave up on guys toward the end of my sophomore year, I’d been stood up so often that I started to bring a friend with me so I wouldn’t have to eat alone. Olivia was usually the first person I asked, so I’d had lots of coffee, lunch, and dinner dates with the two of them since Leland wasn’t a fan of his girlfriend going out with other guys...even if they were supposed to be there for me and didn’t even bother showing up.

Leland glanced at my computer screen and shook his head at the comment I was adding to a paper I was grading. “It sure as hell isn’t the difference between APA and MLA citations.”

Olivia peered around his arm and laughed. “I don’t know. You have to admit it’s kind of funny that they used both styles at the same time. They’re confusing enough all by themselves, so combining the two has to be mind-boggling.”

“Maybe I’d be amused if this was the first time.” My shoulders slumped as I sighed. “Or they were the only student who had done it.”

“Damn.” Leland slid his arm around Olivia’s shoulders as he let out a low whistle. “Kids today.”

My best friend bumped him with her hip. “Yeah, because we’re all so ancient.”

“Hey, at least I can buy alcohol now,” I protested.

Olivia flashed me an impish grin. “Being underage never stopped us before.”

“This is true.” I smiled back at her, thinking about the fake ID I’d used before my twenty-first birthday. My dad would’ve freaked out if he’d ever discovered I’d gotten it through someone I’d met at The Artemis, the resort and casino he and my uncle owned. Or just that I had one, period.

Sometimes, he acted as though I was still as young as Julia. But I comforted myself with the fact that he was also overprotective of Amelia, and my stepmom was a grown woman more than capable of taking care of herself. Watching over us was how my dad showed love, or at least that was what Amelia had told me once when I was complaining about how over-the-top he could be. “But at least we’re finally legal.”

“I know.” She jutted her bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout. “Too bad I’m not coming to Vegas with you. We could’ve had so much fun at all the clubs, dancing until our feet felt like they’d fall off.”

Olivia had visited me over summer break the past two years, but we hadn’t even tried to use our fake IDs while she’d been there. They were good enough to fool the bouncers at the bars near campus, but the guys employed by the places on the Strip were a whole other story. The last thing I’d needed was to have my dad all over me because one of his friends called after I’d been detained by their security team.

“Sorry, you’re stuck with me, babe.” Leland pulled Olivia against his side and brushed a kiss against her temple. “But we can go dancing if you’re really looking forward to it.”

“Line dancing wasn’t what I had in mind, and that’s pretty much the only kind of fast music they play at the bars in my hometown.” Olivia wiggled her right foot. “How about we pretend we did, and you give me a nice long foot rub instead?”

“Whatever you want,” he promised.

I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a huge pedicure kit under the tree for her this year. All she had to do was mention something in passing once, and Leland bent over backward to make it happen. He reminded me a lot of how my dad was with Amelia, and I’d promised myself that I would hold out for someone who paid attention to the little things, too.

“Anyway, we’ve got to run.” Olivia wiggled her fingers in a little wave. “You’re going to have the whole place to yourself. Try to have some fun, okay?”

I jerked my chin toward my computer. “I’m not sure that’s possible with papers like these to grade. I feel a little like the Grinch handing out bad grades this close to Christmas.”

“Maybe they’ll get better.” She clapped her hands together. “Or you’ll stumble across something to get you into the holiday mood. Or you know”—she shrugged—“it might stumble into you.”