Page 7 of Beards and Holly

Grinning over at him, I ask, “Is this your attempt at dating me? You could have just asked me.”

He scoffs at my remark, but I keep poking the bear.

“I would have said no, but asking would be a lot easier than playing this game.”

In a move I never saw coming, he turns to me and leans in closer. He’s so close I can smell his musky pine scent. I drink in his dark brown eyes and feel his minty breath across my face. I hate the way my body reacts. My breath hitches, and goosebumps run across my skin.

“If I wanted you, I promise you’d already be in my bed.”

His arrogance is an immediate turn off.

“You wish, Grinch. I’m not remotely interested in you.”

“Oh, really? My abs don’t do it for you, Jolly Holly?” he retorts.

I note the nicknames we’re exchanging and roll my eyes.

“Last night was an innocent accident. Honestly, I’ve seen better, but that’s beside the point. Let’s be grownups and discuss ground rules.”

“Okay, let me have yours.”

“First, no fake kissing. Two, watch those hands. Three, I agree to four public dates but your grandma has to be present or they don’t count.”

“Six dates and you have to be ready for last minute errands, but they will count toward the total.”

“Five.”

“Seven,” he counters with an obnoxious grin.

“That’s not how this works.”

“Fine. Five.”

“Make it four,” I counter for his arrogance.

He groans. “Fine.”

“Good, we’re in agreement.”

“Deal. Let’s get this over with.”

On that note, we both get out of my car and make our way inside. Hopefully, this agreement won’t backfire, and I’ll have the weekend covered to pay my rent. Then I’ll do what I have to with Jenson until we break up. Surely, fake dating my hot neighbor will be easy peasy. I’ll just ignore everything that comes out of his arrogant mouth until then.

CHAPTER SIX

Jenson

This is my worst nightmare. It’s as if the Ghost of Christmas Past is here to haunt my ass for all my wrong doings. Except in my case, it’s a mall filled with screaming snot-nosed kids, word-vomiting all the junk they want for the holiday. I also don’t miss my now-fake girlfriend wearing a snug elf custom that bothers me in a way I hadn’t anticipated.

The last thing I need is the obvious attraction between us blowing up in my face. Holly’s a good girl, and I’ve already talked myself out of pursuing a one-night stand with her, but damn, if I wasn’t a bit disappointed when she declared no kissing. She said there’s no attraction, but I felt how her eyes bored into me last night in a way that was anything but innocent. I’ll respect her decision, though. The last thing I need is to tangle myself with someone I can’t untangle from. I barely know the girl, but the last thing I want is to hurt her feeling. The thought alone makes my stomach sour. Or maybe, it’s the sticky floor I walk on as I follow Holly into the makeshift North Pole.

“Okay, Grinch. Time to unstick the candy cane from your cocky ass and put on your—what would you say?—Holly Jolly pants,” she sasses, and God, if I don’t love it. My smile rivals the green monster she’s nicknamed me after.

It’s not that I hate Christmas. I just don’t celebrate it. You can’t blame a kid for avoiding the holiday that killed his parents.

“Yes, ma’am,” I reply and slowly take the red garments and make my way to the changing area. When I come out, my head spins. Kids scream, parents yell, and holiday music blares.

I’m starting to think I picked the wrong fake girlfriend. This deal sucks chestnuts.

---