Rebel Without A Claus

It was better than I could have hoped.

I peered over at Nicholas and caught him watching me. His lips curved up, and I couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“Looks good,” Oscar said, stepping up next to him, breaking the moment. “Shall we get the fire started? There’s logs in my truck from my uncle’s farm.”

“Oh, sure. That’s great.” Nicholas headed toward the truck with him, and they both grabbed a hefty armful of logs each to take inside. They headed in, leaving Erin to sidle up next to me.

“You did such a good job,” Erin said, looking at the house. “I can’t believe you did this.”

“Shut up.” I nudged her. “I can be helpful.”

“I know, but you’ve spent the last God knows how many days saying you can’t stand him, yet you’ve spent more time with him than you have with me.”

I sighed. “Well, I work all day with him.”

“I know. That’s why the fact you woke up first thing this morning to do it is incredible.” She eyed me. “Are you sure you aren’t catching feelings?”

“I’m sure,” I replied.

I was not sure.

In fact, I knew there was a little niggle of something trying to worm its way out, but I had to fight it with all my might.

I was not going to be hurt by him again. No way. I had control over that this time. If I allowed myself to contemplate my feelings, I was going to relinquish that control.

That wasn’t going to happen.

“Are you coming inside or what?” Oscar asked, leaning out of the front door. “The fire is hot, and I think Nick is about to have a heart attack putting the charcuterie board together.”

Erin rolled her eyes. “All right, I’m coming. Tell him to step away from the shark-coochie board.”

“The what?”

“The shark-coochie board,” she repeated.

Oscar blinked at her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“The charcuterie board,” I said, shuffling through the snow after. “She can’t say charcuterie. It’s like when little kids call spaghetti, pesketty.”

“But shark-coochie?”

“She saw a shark-shaped board on the Internet and here we are. Just… ignore her.” I shook my head and ushered him inside before I froze my ass off for the second time today.

I was done with all that snow, thank you.

***

“I hate this game.” I put the stupid little top hat piece down and leaned back on the sofa.

“Well, you are terrible at math,” Erin said slowly.

“I’ve been put in jail six times!”

Nicholas grimaced. “That is bad luck. That or I’m never going to Vegas with you because you cannot roll a dice to save your life.”

“Don’t go to Vegas with her,” Erin muttered. “She can’t roll a dice to save her life.”

Rude.

“And everyone says I have no Christmas spirit! How did we even end up playing Monopoly?” I huffed out a breath and sagged back onto the sofa with my glass of wine. I really shouldn’t finish it because I still had to drive home, but I was super frustrated at my loss while everyone else was still going.

“It was Monopoly or Twister,” Oscar reminded me, throwing the dice. “And you were staunchly against that.”

Of course I was.

I was not eight.

I sat back and sulked as they finished out their game. I’d gone broke, somehow, so I was all on my own as they continued.

I didn’t even know how to play Monopoly, if I was honest. I wasn’t really sure what I was supposed to do except buy a bunch of little plastic houses.

The game ended with Oscar winning by something like ten bucks over Erin who pouted. Unfortunately, whatever was going on in their fledging relationship didn’t work in her favor because he did nothing but gloat.

I laughed.

He didn’t stop gloating as Nicholas packed the game away and they put on their coats to leave. I laughed even harder when I heard him still teasing her on the way out to his truck, and Nicholas joined me right when she punched him in the arm.

He still didn’t stop.

She was going to murder him if he kept that up.

“They’re insane,” Nicholas said, rubbing his arms. “What are you doing? Are you leaving now?”

“Hmm. I better give it half an hour. I’ve had two glasses of wine, and I’m not sure cheese and crackers counts as a real meal.”

His lips twitched. “You don’t have to go anywhere, Quinn. You can stay for a while longer.”

“It is just because of the wine,” I insisted. I was feeling it. It wasn’t a total lie.

“I can take you home if you want to go home.”

“No, it’s fine. Then my dad’s truck will still be here, and I’ll have to get here in the morning to get it.” I waved my hands dismissively and stepped away from the door so he could close it. “If you don’t mind me hanging out a bit longer.”