Page 33 of It's Mother-Pucking Christmas!

“It’s romantic with the snow and the view from Maplewood Falls.” Pete turned to me. “She’s sporty. You can hike.”

“That’s a proposal spot. Fuck no.” Mike scowled.

“Well, I can’t take her tomorrow.” I sat up. “I have volunteering, and it’s probably too soon anyway.”

“He’s learning,” Mike said. “Finally.”

“Don’t send her a million texts either,” Erik added.

“Uh…”

“He texted her,” Mike said flatly.

“How much?” Rick demanded. “Gimme your phone.”

“Define a million?” I grimaced.

“This.” Rick held up my phone. “This is a million.”

“Do you think I blew it?” I worried.

Rick typed on my phone. “Don’t worry. I’ll fix it, College Boy. But do not, I repeat,do nottouch your phone the rest of the night.”

15

DAKOTA

Imissed his texts because I was dealing with Granny Murray, who had been squirting things out of her vag for the ’gram, as she said.

Ryder:Thanks for inviting me!

Ryder:I had a great time!

Ryder:You’re beautiful!

Ryder:And amazing!!!

Ryder:I’ve never met anyone like you!

Ryder:I can’t stop thinking about you!

Then, later, another text message:

Ryder:Sorry to blow up your phone. I just had an amazing time with you.

Ryder:Let me know when you want that third date.

He didn’t respond when I texted him back.

“What does that mean?” I fretted to Gracie as we holed up in my room, the pugs snoring like freight trains at the foot of the bed, sharing the last of the red velvet cake.

“It probably means he’s an athlete.” She yawned. “And has a huge game coming up and his coach will skin him if he’s up at three in the morning texting some girl when he has a six a.m. practice.”

“Right,” I said. “Shit, is it that late?”

“We party hard.” Gracie flopped down on the pillows. “What are you guys doing on your third date? Has he given you a hint?”

“I guess I should plan it.”

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