Page 9 of Mistle-Ho

But now, thanks to Dan, I’m also pissed.

He asked where Leo was, but not Alexis. It digs under my skin because that’s the kind of shit that makes her think no one cares when she’s gone.

She’s still wrong though. Someonedoesnotice when she leaves.

Always.

5

Girl Dinner for the Win

Alexis

MY FRIEND HAZEL’S house isn’t nearly as decked out as my parents’ place is this time of year, but it’s still festive and bright for our Christmas girls’ night. She’s got a cute evergreen wreath hanging on the door and a small tree glowing in the front window. There’s even a string of multi-colored twinkle lights draped around the set of small palms planted in the bed next to the stoop.

Skipping up the steps, I peck out a quick knock as my stomach growls in anticipation of what’s coming. Girl dinner is one of my most favorite things, and the dishes my friends craft are epic.

Hazel whips the door open, greeting me with a big smile. “Merry Christmas.” She grabs me in a tight squeeze and I laugh, rolling my eyes a little as she rocks us from side to side.

I ride out the embrace even though it makes me twitchy. “Merry Christmas. Just so we’re clear, this hug is your gift.”

Hazel doesn’t let me go, just keeps squishing our bodies together. “Listen, I get one a year and I’m taking full advantage of the opportunity.” She leans back, her smile still just as wide. “Thank you. That should tide me over until next Christmas.”

I lean against the wall, letting out a resigned sigh as I reach down to hook a finger into the back of my pumps. “I could maybe be convinced to give you a birthday hug too.”

Hazel’s eyes widen behind her thick-rimmed glasses. “Really?” Her smile turns a little misty. “I’m honored you would suffer twice in one year for me.”

Letting one shoe fall to the floor, I switch feet, flashing her a smile. “That’s what friends are for.” After kicking off my heels, I pass her the bottles of wine I brought since, unlike my friends, I am not a cook. As Hazel inspects the labels, I look around, taking everything in. “This place looks amazing.”

The last time I was here, Hazel had just closed on the new build and it was still pretty bare bones. In the month since she moved in, my childhood friend has made amazing headway, filling out the sleek and modern two-story with her trademark color and quirk. The formal living room on my left now houses bright red sofas stacked with pillows in varying shades of teal and turquoise. Large, hammered copper panels hang on the walls, along with a variety of thrifted paintings. To the right, a dark wood table sits at the center of the dining room, surrounded by lime green chairs. A line of paint swatches is taped down the wall, each option bright and showy. Her style is totally different from mine, but I love it and can’t wait to see which one she picks.

“Thanks.” Hazel’s honey blonde hair is still pulled up into the messy bun she sports at work, but she’s changed out of her scrubs and into a cropped T-shirt and flowing lounge pants, looking both like the brainiac she is and the laid back friend I love. “It’s been a huge pain in the ass trying to get my shit together.” She tucks the wine into the crook of one arm, reaching up to push her glasses higher on the narrow bridge of her nose. “Especially with how busy I’ve been at the lab.”

“I bet.” Hazel works for a company that produces THC and CBD edibles, and, now that it’s legal for everyone, her bosses want to expand their product line. And of course they want it done yesterday. “I still think it’s hilarious that their lead formulation chemist has never been high.”

“I don’t know that I’d call it hilarious.” Hazel gives me a little grin. “Ironic, maybe.”

She leads me from the entryway to the kitchen and adjoining great room that make up the back of the house. Everyone else in our group has already arrived and they’re collected around the island, looking gorgeous and only a little drunk. They all turn when I walk in, a chorus of Merry Christmases greeting me as they plow through a countertop’s worth of hors d’oeuvres and bottles of wine.

“You’re late.” Isla, the loudest and most outspoken of our group, frowns at me over the rim of her glass. “Did Dillon accost you after work and try to convince you to go out with him again?”

I release a suffering sigh. “Of course he did.” I take my spot at the counter, accepting a filled wine glass from Hazel. “I should never have gone out with him. Worst idea I’ve had in a long time.”

Wren leans my way, her dark bob shining in the overhead light as she reaches out to squeeze my hand. “It’s not your fault, babes. They all put their best foot forward until they think they’ve got you.” She rolls her dark eyes. “It’s hilarious that he thought he had you after one date, though.”

He really did. Dillon thought one dinner of listening to him drone on about his awesomeness was all it would take for me to fall all over his dick.

And now I’ve got to face him every day at work.

“I was hoping I could just tell him I thought it over and decided it’s not smart for us to get entangled since we work insuch a small office, but he doesn’t seem to be getting it.” I down a few gulps of my wine. “So now I’m going to have to be a bitch, which is going to royally fuck my workdays up.”

“Andyour dry spell continues.” Lola sighs like going without sex is the worst thing she could imagine.

It’s really not that bad. I’ve been as single as it gets since we graduated college, so I’m used to it. Plus, I have a whole drawer of dry spell devices to take the edge off.

And recently my desert hasn’t beencompletelydry.

“Wait.” Isla points at me across a tray of tiny rye bread squares topped with cream cheese, cucumber, and dill. “Why did your face just do that thing?” Her eyes widen and she starts to bounce a little, her accusing finger wagging with the movement. “Something happened and you think you’re going to get away without telling us.”

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