Page 3 of Merry Kissmas

“Good.”

So, we’re both good.That’s good.

“What are you…” she asks at the same time I ask, “Do you live here?”

You knob.Why would she be at a hotel with luggage if she lived here?

“My cousin lives here,” I answer first, with the hopes she’ll forget what I asked her.

“Nice.No, I’m here for…well, I don’t live here.”

So, she’s being dodgy about why she’s here.Interesting.I didn’t speak all my truth either, so I can’t fault her.

“Fifteen!”a man calls when the elevator stops and the doors start to open.

Brynn smiles.The same one she’d give me in front of Professor Jorgensen.There’s not one genuine muscle working in her face right now.

“It was nice seeing you.Enjoy your holiday.”She wheels out her suitcase.

I almost don’t get off because I don’t want to seem stalkerish.But my room is on this floor, and it’s absurd that I’m worried what she’ll think when we’ll likely go another six years without seeing one another again.

“Actually, this is my floor too.”I step out, the doors shutting behind me.

“Oh, well…” She looks at the signs for which direction to head for her room.“I’m this way.”

“Me too,” I say, shaking my head, following her.

“This is getting weird.”She stops so abruptly I almost trip over her suitcase but catch myself.“What room are you in?”

“Fifteen-thirty-one.”

She pulls out her keycard envelope, and her jaw opens when she holds it up at me.“Fifteen-thirty-three.”

Meaning we’re sharing a wall.How wonderful.I get to spend the night thinking about how she’s only feet away from me.This year keeps giving over and over again.

I’m not sure what to say before we part, but that arse inside my head speaks up before I can stop him.“Want to get a drink?”

She’s quiet, and the regret of asking sinks deeper into my skin as if it’s a toxin that’s making my temperature rise.

“Sorry, I’m super tired from my flight.But I’m sure with that accent of yours, you’ll find someone to join you in no time.”She turns and aggressively tugs her suitcase down the hall.

I follow her.“Not everyone loves a British accent.”

She stops at her door, and I stop at mine, then our eyes lock.“Let’s not pretend I’m the only American girl you’ve had in your bed.”

“You’re not the only one, but you were the best.”

She huffs, and her eyes, perfectly lined with a dark eyeliner, narrow.“And here I thought maybe you’d changed.Lost that cocky attitude of yours.”

“On the contrary, I’m paying you a compliment, not myself.”I pull out my keycard, and she raises hers, both of our cards hovering just above the locks.

“Well, it wasn’t what happened in the bed that you needed to work on.It was what happened afterward where you fell short.”

How have we possibly just gone from shock, to cordial, to throwing insults.

“I see you’re still as immature as a teenage girl.”

She scoffs as if I can’t make a dig at her.“Sorry I wasn’t one of the groupies following you around campus.I had higher goals than being your Wednesday night girl.”

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