Page 13 of Mistle-Ho

I’ve got to fix this. And I’ve got to do it before I have to face her—and them—Christmas morning.

7

The Do-Over

Alexis

I’VE JUST CHANGED into a pair of knit joggers and an off-the-shoulder T-shirt before getting cuddled up under my favorite blanket on the couch, when someone knocks on my door. “Ugh.” I let my head fall back against the plush cushions as the opening credits ofIt’s A Wonderful Lifeplay across the television. “You have got to be kidding me.”

I thought I was finally done fielding visits from my neighbors for the day, and my brain races through the faces I’ve already seen, trying to figure out who I missed. Whoever it is, they’re going to have to deal with seeing me in my pajamas.

I love my apartment. It’s in a great location and has fantastic closet space, but the friendliness of the people on my floor is a little much.

At least I was prepared for it this year. Last year I felt like a total ass when they brought me all sorts of little gifts and I had nothing for them.

After sliding my bowl of freshly popped corn onto the coffee table, I toss the super soft plush covering to one side, trying my best to work on some semblance of a smile as I pad barefoot across the floor. I pause to grab one of the small boxes of cookies I picked up at the bakery around the corner, before unlockingthe deadbolt and flinging it open, bracing for another of the overexcited Christmas greetings I’ve been dealing with all day while trying to wrap presents for tomorrow.

Instead of the expected smiling neighbor, it’s Gavin standing on my doorstep. And I nearly swallow my tongue.

His honey brown eyes hold mine for a second before dropping to the box of cookies in my hand. “Those for me?”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I was planning to spend the evening watching movies while hyping myself up to face him tomorrow at Christmas breakfast, and his surprise visit has thrown me for a loop. “What are you doing here?”

He glances over a broad shoulder as one of my neighbors passes with her young sons. The older of the two boys stares up at Gavin, his eyes going wide.

“Are you The Wall?” The awe in his voice is kinda cute, but I still roll my eyes because it’s freaking Gavin he’s all slack-jawed over. If the kid knew what I know, he wouldn’t be half as impressed.

Sure, Gavin is an awesome rugby player, but he’s goofy as hell and can’t carry a tune to save his life. He almost failed home ec. because he set the school kitchen on fire and accidentally farted during my mom’s birthday dinner when I was sixteen.

Oh, and he’s a dirty dress ruiner.

Turning away from me, Gavin crouches down, getting on the little kid’s level. “I am. You watch rugby?”

The mesmerized boy nods, moving his head up and down at a breakneck speed.

Gavin lowers his voice, leaning a little closer. “You want to know a secret?”

The boy continues his bobbing nod.

Gavin tips his head my way. “Her brother is Catapult.”

My pint-sized neighbor’s adoring gaze comes to me. “Really?”

I force on a smile, even though I want to drop kick the giant man in front of me. I’m going to kill Gavin if that kid starts showing up at my door wanting to talk about my dumbass brother.

Gavin slowly straightens, coming to his feet, looking even bigger than normal next to the kids. “Really.”

“Come on, boys.” Their mother hooks an arm around each small set of shoulders, urging them to keep moving. “We’re running late for dinner at Nana’s, and I’m sure Miss Alexis and…” She pauses, brows pinching together for a second before she finishes, “Mr. Wall, want to get on with their evening plans.”

I press my lips together to stifle a laugh, offering a wave as they make their way to the elevator. Once they’re loaded on, and well out of earshot, I’m forced to return my attention to the unexpected visitor who I’m guessing isn’t here to collect cookies or offer Christmas well wishes.

Lifting my chin, I meet his eyes, repeating my earlier question, but with a twist. “Why are you here, Mr. Wall?”

Gavin shifts on his feet, eyes moving to one side then the other before coming back to me. “Can I come in?”

I hear another door open down the hall, and don’t particularly want to deal with any more of my neighbors discovering I know the most popular rugby player in the country, so I step back and wave him in, quickly closing the door.

It’s so odd to see Gavin in my space. He was here once before—helping my dad and Leo carry in the heaviest of my furniture when I first moved in—but that was different. All my shit was in boxes and the place was nothing more than bare walls and uncovered laminate floors.

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