Page 98 of 12 Days of Mistletoe

I clear my throat again, finding my voice, and run a hand down the length of my favorite dress. “You know, I think I like this one too.”

“Good.” May clasps her hands together. “It’s settled, then.”

I walk back into the dressing room and peer at myself one more time, vowing to wear this dress every single Christmas Eve for the rest of my life. I may be sitting in my living room, just me and Noel, but this dress will be on my body. May’s hard-earned money will not go to waste.

My cell pings behind me—I almost forgot about my text to Elliot. My heart thumps. I don’t need Elliot’s approval, but I wouldn’t mind if he liked it just the same.

He’s sent a photo including his ratings. It’s me in this dress—but not in the dressing room and not with my screwed-up face. It must be the photo May took of me not two minutes ago. The lighting is better, and I’m smiling as if I were Cinderella receiving her invitation to the ball.

Elliot: Wow.

Dress—10/10

Face—10/10

You—perfection

FORTY-FOUR

elliot

One more day of pretending.One and then Bonnie and I can move forward with real feelings and real intentions. No offense, Gran, but fake is not for me.

I button the front of my vest and slip into my black jacket. Thanks to Gran, I own my own tuxedo. I have all the black-tie affair garb hanging up in my closet, right next to my gym shorts. I use the tux, too—once a year, at Gran’s party.

I take care styling my hair and shaving my stubble because I’ve seen my date—not dolled up and ready for the ball, just trying the dress on—and the woman is stunning. That dress might have been made with Bonnie in mind. I dropped my phone when Gran sent me that photo. Q, newly home from vacation, hit me in the face with the ball from our racket ball game and my phone went tumbling to the ground.

Q picked it up first and had all kinds of words for Bonnie in her red dress. Words that made me forget he’s one of myclosest friends, words that caused me to slug him in the shoulder—hard.

My cell buzzes and I open the FaceTime call to see my sister, Evelyn.

“Whoa.” Her lips part into a wide grin. “Elliot. Looking good.”

“Thanks,” I say.

“I have never seen that much product in your hair.”

“Is it too much?” I say, holding a hand to my hair but not touching it. This look took me half an hour to perfect.

“No. Not too much. You look good.Reallygood. Like pregnant-lady-glowing good.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Okay, pregnant lady, I guess you would know. That’s kind of a weird thing to say.”

“It’s not. You look…happy, Elliot. I’m glad. What time are you picking up Bonnie? Gran took her to Merlee for hair, right?”

“Yeah. I think Bonnie was afraid she’d come out with blue hair or something, but she went willingly because the woman is a saint.”

“She is. We all like her. Hold on to that one, brother.”

I swallow. This is new. Bonnie is new. And yet—I intend to.

“I’ll see you there,” she says. “Gran wants a family photo at six since guests won’t arrive until seven.”

I sigh. Another family picture. That’s what got Bonnie into this glorious mess.

Yep, I’ll never complain about my mother or my grandmother’s family photo shoots again.

I tap on Bonnie’s door. I’m early. But her hair and makeup appointment should have ended an hour ago—Gran took her to Merlee, and Bonnie’s texts made me believe that she didn’t completely hate the experience.

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