Page 87 of The Christmas You Crash

I love my mom; I do. But annoyance is quickly replacing the humor I found in this situation. Which is why I blurt out, “How about because I have a boyfriend? That’s a pretty good reason not to go on a date with a rando, isn’t it?”

Oops.

My mother’s eyes go wide, her mouth drops open, and her fingers twitch around her mug. A million thoughts per second are flying through her head, and I can practically see them. Excitement that I have a boyfriend, hurt that I didn’t tell her about him, worry that he’s not good enough, and a brief moment of wondering whether we will choose a spring or summer wedding.

Then her wide eyes narrow and pin me in place. “What do you mean, you have a boyfriend?”

I sink into my chair. “Um, I thought the statement was fairly self-explanatory?”

“Don’t sass me, young lady. You have a boyfriend and didn’t tell me? When did you meet this man?” Momterrogation mode initiated.

Oh shit.

My shoulders bunch up to my ears. “Over Christmas break?”

She arches one eyebrow. “Are you asking me or telling me?”

“Telling. I met him over Christmas break.”

“Where?”

“Uh, up in Two Harbors.”

That has her gaping at me. “You went up to the cabin for Christmas? Alone? Alexis, there was ablizzard. You could have been in danger.”

Oh, man. This is not going to go over well

“Yeah. It definitely could have gotten hairy. But I wasn’t alone.” I watch my mom, who is silent, press her lips together in a firm line. “I mean, I went up there alone, but there was someone in the cabin.”

“What?” My mom’s shout rings out through the apartment.

“It’s okay, Mom, it’s not a big deal. It’s just that Dad had given the keys to one of his players to stay there for the week. And he showed up while I was out in the hot tub.”

Mom leans forward, her elbows on the table. “Alexis Cross. Tell me your boyfriend is not a player on your dad’s hockey team.”

I shrink down in my seat so only my nose and eyes are visible above the surface of the table. Clearing my throat, I say, “Sorry, Mom. Can’t. He’s one of the players on Dad’s hockey team.”

Here we go.

forty-one

LEXI

“Does your father know?”

My face screws up in a look of purehow stupid do you think I am?“Fuck, no!”

Mom scowls. “Language, Alexis.”

Banging my head on the back of the chair, I groan. “Mom. I’m twenty-three. I can sayfuck.”

“Don’t try to change the subject, young lady.”

I throw my hands in the air. “You started it!”

“Tell me everything,” my mom says. A severe frown mars her pretty face. And to think, I was worried about my dad finding out about Ryder and me. This may be worse.

So, I tell her everything. Well, noteverything. She doesn’t need to know that Ryder saw my nips and nub within two minutes of meeting me. Or that I’ve never orgasmed harder than I do with him. Really, I avoid the topic of sex altogether. But I tell her plenty of other things.

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