I turned on the Christmas tree lights, switched on the TV, and curled up on the sofa. It didn’t take me long to find National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation on the streaming service, and I settled down with my pie and my wine to watch my movie in peace.

Thank God.

It’d been such a long day. Between all the time with Nicholas and the grotto and dinner with Erin, I really needed an hour to myself to chill out and breathe. Mostly because I promised Nicholas I would be at his house by seven-thirty the following day to start helping him with the outdoor lights.

It was a decision I was already regretting.

In my opinion, I was spending far too much time with him outside of the grotto. First it was a drink, then the lights, then his tree, and now… this.

The more time I spent with him, the more I was reminded that he really wasn’t the Nicholas I once knew.

He was, but he wasn’t. I knew that didn’t make much sense, but it was simply how I felt. At his core he was the same Nicholas White I’d had such a huge crush on in high school, culminating in that one disastrous night after our graduation party, but now he was wrapped up in a…

I don’t know.

An older, more mature, more responsible package.

And that was really goddamn sexy.

Jesus, I really was an adult now, wasn’t I?

It didn’t matter, though. I knew he was only here for the holiday season, and that’s why tomorrow would be the last time I’d spend time alone with him. I had, of course, invited him for Christmas if he was alone—something Mom was pleased about—but we wouldn’t be alone.

That would be fine.

The way I’d felt when he’d barely even kissed me combined with the way my heart had skipped this morning at the mere thought he’d kiss me…

No. I couldn’t think about that. I wasn’t going to think about that. I just couldn’t.

He’d hurt me by leaving once before.

I wasn’t going to let that happen a second time.

“Oomph.”

I turned and looked at my sister. Verity was standing in the doorway wearing fleecy Christmas pajama pants and what vaguely resembled a tent for a shirt, and she leaned against the doorframe. “Christ, it feels like there’s a bowling ball between my legs.”

“I don’t know how to respond to that,” I said tentatively. It was the first time we’d crossed paths since this morning when I’d ripped her a new asshole, and I didn’t know how to speak to her.

Looking at her, I realized I felt terrible about it.

It’d needed to be said, but I could have been quite a bit nicer about it.

“Is that cherry pie?” She peered over. “Is there any left?”

“Yeah, about a third. Want me to get it for you?”

“No, no. You’ve been working all day and I’m on my feet. Besides, if you get it, you won’t bring me all of it. And if anyone asks where it went, you can blame me.” She pushed off the doorframe and waddled into the kitchen. I paused the movie and listened to make sure she was fine and fought a giggle when there was a clatter of a piece of cutlery hitting the ground followed by a, “Oh, fuck that. You can stay down there.”

She’d dropped a fork, clearly.

“Did you drop a fork?” I asked when she waddled back in.

“Yes. It can fucking stay down there. It’s a long way down these days.” She leaned over awkwardly to put the pie on the table, but I took it from her and set it down for her. She smiled gratefully. “At least it was the fork. If I dropped the pie, I’d be crying right now.”

I felt that and I wasn’t even pregnant.

Not even close.

“I thought I heard Clark Griswold threatening bodily harm to Margo and Todd.” Verity lowered herself down slowly with another grunt and took the pie I handed her. “Thanks. Oh, you weren’t having some quiet time, were you?”

I grimaced. “I was, but it’s fine. We probably need to talk.”

“Good, because I don’t think I can get up again yet.” She stabbed the fork into the pie and shoveled a huge piece into her mouth. “That wine looks good.”

“Sucks to be you,” I replied, picking up the glass and taking a huge swig.

“That’s mean,” she muttered. “But I suppose it’s my own fault.”

“At least fifty percent your fault.”

“That’s fair.” She nodded and looked over at me. “Quinn—”

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “For shouting at you this morning. I’m not sorry about what I said, but I could have been a lot nicer in the way I said it.”

Verity slowly nodded. “I did cry after. But then I dropped a slice of bread yesterday and started crying, so I think that’s just what I do now.”

Tags: Emma Hart Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net