Page 2 of The Christmas Romance Wish

Dylann lowers onto the floor flat on her stomach, bends her knees, and swings her legs slowly back and forth. She balances on her elbow, cheek pressed to her hand with a pretend telephone up to her ear. With her other hand, she twirls the imaginary phone cord around her finger and snaps invisible gum.

I throw the pillow I use to support my lower back from my swivel chair at her. “I was not doing that.”

“You were doing the modern version of that.”

“Was not.”

She grabs the notebook I always keep with me while writing to jot down notes to come back to later. “Let’s see. Are there any freshdoodles?”

I huff. Approximately three months ago, she caught me doodling hearts in the notebook while talking on the phone to my partner in my current co-writing project. But the crush, or whatever, had been growing well before that. Nine months and twenty-nine days, to be exact. This, I keep to myself.

“Hmm. This little heart looks recent.” She rubs her finger over it to see if the ink is still wet.

I snatch it back from her and pout, sort of. I’m not really mad because she’s not entirely wrong, but I don’t want to admit that.

Dylann waggles her eyebrows. “So, how’s the heartthrob?”

“Why are you still in pajamas?” I ask, changing the topic.

Dylann sits up. She’s tall and lanky, the kind of woman with boundless energy when it comes to birthdays, holidays, and Mondays. “It’s a Saturday less than a week before Christmas. If people can get away with wearing ugly sweaters, a coordinating loungewear set with a candy cane print is perfectly acceptable this time of year.”

As always, I don’t want to think about Christmas.

Dylann wanders out of my office and I hear my dresser drawer open. “You must have something in here festive to wear while we decorate.”

Standing in the doorway to my bedroom, I say, “Where’s Jacob?”

“Don’t get your ribbon candy in a twist. He’s on his way. We’re going to decorate together.”

“I have to pack.”

“You’re not leaving forIsland Tropicaleuntil after Christmas,” she says with a flourish.

“Do you mean Coco Key?” My tone is flat because even though I’m excited to see my brothers, going back there comes with baggage—the heavy kind I’ve been dragging around for my entire life.

“Don’t sound so excited to spend a week where it isn’t snowing.”

“I like snow and the wintertime. It’s pretty and peaceful.” I glance out the window at the steely sky.

“Like a lady warlock. Like the winter witch. Ooh, a yeti-ette.” Dylann laughs and makes creeping fingers.

“Ha ha,” I say without humor.

“Anyway, I’ve seen you pack. It’s more of a toss whatever in a bag and call it good.”

Frowning, I cross my arms in front of my chest. “I do not. I use travel cubes and have an entire system for maximizing space in my luggage.”

“I was teasing because you’re not leaving until after Christmas. There’s plenty of time. Unless you mean?—”

She refers to the thing we don’t talk about. Our lease expires on January first. She’s getting married this spring and she and Jacob are moving to the burbs. It doesn’t make sense for us to renew, so I’m supposed to move to my brother’s place and she’ll stay with her parents until the wedding.

“Change of plans,” I mutter.

Dylann pauses, mid-rooting through my drawers, which I will have to reorganize later. For the record, I do not own Christmas-themed pajamas. I possess but a single holiday item and it’s a photograph I lost in college. I stowed the image of my parentsholding me in the attic of my mind and do my best to forget about it for three-hundred and sixty-four days of the year.

“Do you mean you’re not moving into Royal’s luxury penthouse?”

“Regrettably, that’s still on the table.”

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