Page 1 of Mistle-Ho

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The Night’s Young #1

Alexis

AS I CLIMB the stairs leading to the porch of my parents’ stucco two-story, my already bad mood sours further. The heavy chords of “Jingle Bell Rock” thump against my brain like the beginning of a migraine. Through the glowing windows I can see that the place is packed to the gills. I’ve done this enough times to know that by now, ninety percent of the friends and neighbors filling my childhood home are shit-faced, so they’ll be loud and chatty and huggy. It’s a lot for me to handle on a good day, and today has not been a good day.

I’m turning on the heel of my red ribboned stilettos, preparing to go back to my car and claim uncontrollable diarrhea, when the front door flies open. My mother smiles out at me. Her small but curvy frame is covered with enough red and green flashing lights that she should come with a warning label, and there’s tinsel stuck in her blonde hair.

“There you are.” She grabs my arm, pulling me into the eggnog-fueled fold as she announces my arrival at the top of her lungs. “Alexis is finally here.”

Hell’s bells.

I attempt to tug free of her grip, hoping to flee to some other—less peopley—area of the house before I get swarmed by themasses, but she holds firm as everyone greets me, dishing out overtight hugs and blurry smiles. It’s almost like my mom has no clue how much I hate this party. Honestly, she probably doesn’t. It’s never occurred to my parents that not everyone loves to hang out with a houseful of people who’ve been chugging mulled wine and Christmas punch, spending hours fending off meddling questions from people invading your personal space.

“How was your work thing? Do you want a drink?” My mother reaches up with her free hand, adjusting the battery powered antlers glowing brightly against her blonde hair as she continues firing off questions. “Or something to eat? I made those meatballs you like. Want me to get you some?”

I manage a small smile. “No, thanks.” I wasn’t lying when I told her I’d be late, but I might have stretched the truth about the reason. While I technically wasn’t on the clock for my dinner at The Providence, a coworkerwasthere. And boy was that a mistake. I should have realized going out with a guy I would have to see every day was a terrible fucking idea.

To be fair, I’m starting to think going out withanyguy is a terrible fucking idea.

“Finally.” The single, deeply-boomed word is my only warning as my older brother comes out of nowhere. He expertly extricates me from our mother’s grip, so she can get back to her beloved party, before pulling me into a bear hug that smashes my face against his muscly chest.

While I got our mother’s shorter, softer stature, Leo takes after our dad, which means he’s well over six feet tall and built like a bull. It makes him an amazing rugby player, but next to impossible to wiggle away from.

He leans into my ear as he squeezes the air from my lungs, ignoring my attempts to free myself from his hold. “I was about to come find you and drag you here myself. No way am I suffering through this thing alone.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t try to feed me that bullshit. You love this party as much as they do.” I might look like our mother, but Leo acts like her. He inherited her outgoing personality and love of socializing.

After a few more seconds of unwanted affection, he finally releases me. One big paw moves in the direction of my head and I lean back, shooting him a glare as I lower my voice. “If you touch my hair, I’ll shove Cookie Clause off the counter and tell mom you’re the one who did it.”

Leo’s eyes widen like he doesn’t already know I’m the more vicious sibling, regardless of what our careers might suggest. “You monster.”

Melting from the crowd like a specter, my brother’s best friend suddenly appears on my other side, his arrival proving he’s worth every penny the Cape Coral Swamp Cats pay him. He gives me a smirk. “She’s a monster all right.”

For fuck’s sake. I’m not even out of the entryway and I already have to deal with him? I knew Gavin would be here, but part of me hoped I’d get lucky and be able to avoid him all night. God knows I could use a little luck after spending an hour and a half listening to yet another idiot with an over-inflated ego drone on about himself.

I thought scheduling a date tonight to reduce the amount of time I had to spend surrounded by my loud family and their loud friends was a stroke of brilliance. It was not. It left me even more pissy than normal, which is saying something.

I pull in a deep breath, trying to temper my aggravation. “Hello, Gavin.”

I’ve known the towering giant of a man for almost fifteen years. And for almost fifteen years he’s teased me mercilessly. Every time our paths cross, Gavin pretends to flirt with me, dishing out easy smiles and smooth lines like a lunch lady on pizza day.

When I was younger, I was dumb enough to think maybe it was real. That he genuinely had an interest in me. I spent more than a few teenage nights expecting something to develop between us, and sulking in disappointment when it didn’t.

Then I grew up and figured out it was all fake. To Gavin, I was just his friend’s little sister. There to be teased and annoyed.

He still holds the same opinion, and tonight I’m not sure how that’s going to go for him. Based on the way my evening’s played out so far, there’s a good chance he could end up with Cookie Clause shoved up his crapper.

That would be more difficult to blame on Leo though…

“I was starting to worry you weren’t coming, Al.” Right out of the gate, Gavin pisses me off, using the nickname he gave me the first time we met. “I thought the party was going to be ruined.”

I tip my head with a smile. “It might still be ruined. The night’s young.”

As usual, Gavin isn’t deterred by my bad attitude. Amusement flares in his caramel-colored eyes as he grins at me over a glass of eggnog that looks comically small in his enormous hand. “Promises, promises.”

I almost shift in my stilettos at the way he’s looking at me. If I didn’t know better, it would be easy to mistake his intense focus and unwavering attention for interest. But I do know better. And what I know is, Gavin’s fucking with me.

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