Page 63 of Merry Little Hate Notes

I curled my lips, not so sure.

“Holly,” Dad said tenderly. “She couldn’t take the guilt. I’m not excusing her absence or the way she has pushed you out of her life. I’m only saying this so you don’t blame yourself. Nothing except the heavy weight of guilt would continue to keep her from you. She loves you so much, though she has done a poor job of showing it the last several years. You and Christian were her everything, and she lost both of you,” Dad’s deep voice warbled with emotion. “I blamed myself. And knowing I lit the match that burned our family to the ground destroyed me. I couldn’t take it, so I started drinking and gave up on life. But you ...” Dad rested his warm hand on my cheek, which was now wet with tears. “You never gave up on me, so don’t you give up on yourself or your dreams. Don’t you let your mother or me take those from you. Promise me.”

I was ugly crying by this point, hardly able to think or even breathe. “But what if my dreams don’t work out? I don’t know if I can take it.”

“Honey, you can’t put your life on hold for what might go wrong. You have to seize all the magic you can get. Magic doesn’t just happen. And there would be no such thing as magic if there weren’t mundane or hard things in our lives.”

That was quite the mic drop, and it hit hard, right where it needed to. First Brandon big-banged my perception of my life and my past, and now my dad joined him. Even more, Dad was making me face my future, my dreams, and possibly my mother. I’d been fighting so hard against all of them because of the past I thought I knew. But what did I really know?

I gazed at the Christmas tree, all lit up in front of the small window in the living room. Something about it gave me hope andmade me realize that while I didn’t have all the answers, I knew three things: One, I needed magic in my life. Two, I wanted to be a lawyer. Three, I wanted my Monica Geller life. I wondered if Brandon would play the part of Chandler Bing.

Before I could respond to Dad, there was a knock on the door. Dad stood, walked over to the door, and opened it, letting in a blast of cold air that felt good on my wet cheeks, heated from emotion.

“I have a delivery for Holly St. James,” a man on the other side of the door said.

That piqued my interest. I craned my neck to see the delivery man hand Dad a gorgeous bouquet full of what looked like white roses, holly, and blue thistles. It was stunning.

“It appears you have an admirer.” Dad walked the flower arrangement over to me. “I wonder who it could be?” he said mysteriously, like we didn’t know.

Meanwhile, my heart was pitter-pattering. I took the beautiful flowers, plucked the card nestled among them, and read it to myself.

I’m so happy you candy cane into my life. Love, Brandon.

Now that was magical. I think Brandon had just answered my Chandler Bing question. Now all I had to do was find my courage to be Monica. And ... a lawyer.

“How will I pay for law school?” I wondered out loud.

Dad smiled the biggest smile. “We’ll figure it out together.”

“I like together.” I’d missed having him to lean on so much.

“Me too. Now I have some presents to wrap, and I think you have a phone call to make.” Dad winked. “I love you, daughter. I have an inkling Brandon does too.”

Yeah. I had the same inkling. Which is why I texted Brandon the cheesiest note of all time.

What light is light if Brandon be not seen? What joy is joy if Brandon be not by? SNOW-body compares to you.

And no one ever had.

BRANDON

I SLID HOLLY A NOTE across the table we were sitting at before she got up to serenade all our coworkers at the start of our Friday team-building exercise. It had been the first time all week she could make good on our bet. Holly was on fire, and we’d been in meeting after meeting this week, trying to close deals. Dynamic had signed yesterday, and I expected to get Reliable Systems’ contract back later today. Artemis was even still on the table after Holly called Blake and then sent her several charts and graphs detailing why Elevate was the best choice.

Holly was a force to be reckoned with, and damn, it was hot. She was torturing me. I’d had to make up every excuse in the book this past week for why we couldn’t be alone. Tuesday night, I’d arranged for us to help serve dinner at a homeless shelter in downtown Denver with my parents, which my wingman was ecstatic about. So ecstatic, I hardly saw Holly the entire night as my mom monopolized her. Wednesday night I took her to a hockey game with eighteen thousand other people, so we were safe there. Walking her to the door was getting tricky. I went straight for the forehead kiss every night. Except I lingered so long, she probably thought I was going to suck her forehead off. Last night, we had a romantic evening at an art exhibit withher dad, and she drove home with him. Believe me, I was kicking myself as I watched her leave with him. Especially as she stared out the window at me as if I’d lost my mind.

It felt as if I had lost my mind. Holly was driving me mad with passion, but I couldn’t act on my feelings until she knew the truth. I didn’t want to rain on her parade this week. Not when she was so happy she’d decided to apply to law school and move out on her own with Carmen. And selfishly, I loved how well she was playing our new game. Her love notes were just as brilliant as her hate notes had been. Admittedly, I was still googling most of mine. Including the one I just slid over to her.

The smile she offered me, even though she wasn’t happy I was making her see this bet through, was one more reason to put off telling her the truth. Her grin indicated I was changing her mind about me. The thought of her returning to her stance of hating me killed me.

Holly looked around to see if anyone was watching before she lifted the note, careful to keep it hidden in the palm of her hand while she read,Shake it like a North Pole-aroid picture. She laughed that irresistible laugh of hers. Quietly, of course. Apparently, there was a lot of talk about us in the bathroom, and Holly was doing her best to stave off any rumors.

“You’re such a dork,” she whispered.

A dork who was in love with her. “Admit it—you like it.”

She tossed her long wavy hair off her shoulder. “I like you,” she mouthed, slowly and succinctly, in the sexiest way possible.

So sexy, I was about ready to throw the truth out the window and validate all the rumors about us. Instead, I just sat there slack jawed, entranced by her.

---