Page 10 of Accidentally Under Your Tree

Six nights before Christmas

"That rat bastard," Shay hissed.

I flicked my eyes from side to side, ensuring the other patrons of Benji's Place couldn't overhear. The local bar was quiet even for a Thursday evening.

Thank God.

I didn't want any of the town gossips—and there were many—getting a whisper of my situation.

When I'd texted Shay to get me, I'd imagined we'd go back to her place. I pictured the two of us on her sofa as I spilled my guts and drank away my sorrows. We'd watchNew Girlfor the hundredth time and eat chicken wings and jalapeño poppers from her freezer. I might even let my guard down enough to cry.

It wasn't until she turned toward town instead of her house that I remembered her older brother, Rose's ex boyfriend, Lawrence, was fixing something at Shay's house.

And since my house was ground zero to the future worst moment of my life, we couldn't stay there.

Which brought us to Benji's Place so at least I could have a stiff drink while I lamented. None of the tables neighboring our booths were occupied. That didn't stop my nerves.

Strands of white lights and garlands were strung along the ceiling and down the beams on each end of the bar. They reflected off the polished wood surfaces. A mix of classic and current Christmas music played from the speakers. It could have been homey if I wasn't in the shittiest mood.

Ben, the bar's owner, would probably forgive me if I ran around tearing down lights and screaming like Veruca Salt. Although the concept of throwing a fit was appealing, facing more consequences than the ones stacked in front of me…I'd pass.

Shocked silence washed over Shay and myself after I'd finished the story. The details I was looking forward to telling her had become sharped edged and scraped painfully on my throat now that I knew. Now that I wasn't sharing the details of a whirlwind budding infatuation, but a sordid affair. She soaked up the depressing absurdity in a quiet outrage. While I sat drenched in the inevitable ramifications of my actions.

My limbs and heart were too heavy. It felt like I was sinking.

I lifted my drink to my lips, but the whiskey mixed with apple and cinnamon turned my stomach and I set it back down. "Please say something."

"Aboutthis?" Shay's brown eyes widened. "I'm still processing."

"No, something else. Anything else."

She blew out a heavy sigh puffing her cheeks. "Um…I can't think."

"Yeah…"

After a few beats, she said, "I posted a job to hire a new carpenter for the shop."

"Cool. Cool…"

Shay had worked at my parent's home renovation business since she graduated from college. She was slowly stepping into the role of business manager as her brother took over more project managing. Relinquishing control was hard for Mom and Dad, but they didn't want to work forever.

The only two people theymighttrust more with the company was me and Rose, and there was no way that was going to happen.

My phone buzzed. Our eyes snapped to it on the tabletop. A text from an unsaved number lit up by screen,Please let me explain.

The proverbial twist of the knife in my chest. On my shoulder, his teeth marks burned.

"Is that him?" Shay demanded.

I shook my head and shrugged.

She narrowed her dark brown eyes at the phone before it went black again. "Explain what, motherfucker?"

I clenched my jaw, overwhelmed by the ferocity of my thoughts and disgust. How the hell had I been so naïve? I wanted to blame Will for everything, but I'd been the one to let my guard down. I was the one who had committed a terrible betrayal—one that I'd have to tell Rose about. She was going to hate me even more than she already did.

I was to blame for getting carried away by blind hope.

It was laughable the high I'd woken up on. Wrapped in white hotel sheets, I'd stretched with a wide smile on my face. My very first thought was of Will. It felt good to be noticed. Seen. Wanted.

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