Page 71 of Merry Little Hate Notes

I swore I could hear Christian say, “Deal, but I’d punch you if I could.”

I wish you could too, man. Merry Christmas, brother.

HOLLY

“LET’S JUST STAY OUT HERE,” I whispered against Brandon’s lips while we made out in his car. I glanced at his parents’ house, which was tastefully lit up with twinkling white lights and boughs of evergreen draped along the wraparound porch. It was a miracle we’d even made it. Apparently, we were trying to make up for fourteen years of lost time in one night. Fine by me. My foot was happy to pop as many times as necessary.

“I want to.” He tugged my lower lip gently with his teeth. “But my wingman would kill me.”

I laughed. “I still can’t believe your mom is your wingman.”

“Speaking of moms, how are you feeling about seeing yours?”

I rested my hands on Brandon’s stubbled cheeks and nuzzled my nose against his. His concern touched me. “I don’t know. It’s almost surreal. Kind of like being here with you, minus all the kissing and touching.”

Brandon chuckled.

To be honest, I hadn’t really had time to process it. At the time, I’d been more concerned about how Brandon was feeling about visiting Christian’s grave, and knowing what he was going to say to me. Don’t get me wrong, seeing my mom freakedme out. But I knew only time would tell how my relationship with her would play out. We had a lot of things to work through. It’s one thing for a teenage boy to leave you. It’s another when it’s your mother. That was probably going to require some therapy.

I tilted my head to the side and peeked at our old house. I’d glanced at it on the drive in, but I knew I needed to face it for real. So many of my best memories, as well as my worst, lived there.

Brandon took my hands from his cheek and held them between his own. “The place hasn’t changed much, has it?”

“No. It hasn’t. It still looks like it holds some magic.”

“I don’t think it was ever the house.” Brandon kissed me. “I think it was the people.”

“Are you saying I’m magical?”

“Very,” he groaned before kissing me deeply this time.

Breathing as one with Brandon as our lips danced together was more than magical. It was everything I’d remembered it to be, but better. His soft lips melded perfectly with mine, and his tongue skillfully stroked the inside of my mouth, eliciting all the feels. I loved how his hands caressed my cheeks before he kissed his way over to my ear and whispered things that made me blush and giggle. It was the best birthday ever.

“We really should go in,” Brandon said low into my ear.

“I suppose we should. I’m nervous to see everyone,” I admitted.

“Don’t be. Everyone loves you.”

“Do you think our old neighbors will think it’s weird we’re together?”

“Nah, I think everyone but us expected it to happen.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Even my mom and dad had thought so. “Just stay close.” He was my emotional support person for the night, seeing as Carmen was here with Marco. He’d parked his motor home down the street. The Garcias were probably losing their minds right about now. Carmen’s abuelas would probably fly in tomorrow once they got word of the yoga instructor.

“You don’t have to tell me twice. Although, watch out for my mom—she might try to strong-arm you away from me, and she scares me, so I won’t fight back,” Brandon gave me fairwarning.

I laughed while Brandon jumped out of the car and jogged around to open my door. I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to get it plumped up after being in a beanie. Although Brandon had probably done a sufficient job with how often his hands had tangled in my hair while we kissed. I couldn’t wait to get back to that, but it would be poor form not to go to the party. Especially since Lauren had said it was all she wanted for Christmas. And I was curious to see how the Garcias were holding up.

Brandon opened the door and held out his hand. “You look gorgeous.”

“Are you sure I don’t have resting Grinch face or a November face?” I teased him.

He let out an exasperated breath. “You heard the TED Talk. You know why I said those things.”

I extended my hand as he assisted me into the frigid night air. “I know, and thanks for speaking my love language.”

“I was just desperate for you to speak to me at all, after what I had done.”

---