Page 102 of Holiday Hostilities

“Uh, sure thing, man.” Aaron gestures towards the French doors leading onto the deck. He follows Jake outside, and then gives me a lingering look before shutting the door behind them.

I whirl around to Sofia. “What’s going on, Sof?”

Her cheeks flush and she starts playing with a tassel hanging off a cloth on the counter. “Er,” she starts. “There might be a photo circulating that features you and Aaron. You know, um, together.”

“What?” I squawk.

“There’s a…” Sofia waves her hands in front of her uselessly, looking not unlike a dancing octopus or something. “There’s a picture of the two of you. Kissing.”

“What?! Where?” I squawk again like I’m the freaking resident parrot of the Marino household.

“Uhm, here, I think.” She blinks, gazing around. “Oh, you mean where did we see the photo? That awful Brandi woman posted it on her Instagram.”

My body feels like it’s malfunctioning as my jaw drops wide open.

Nonna looks from me, to Sofia, to the men standing outside. “I’ll fetch the Baileys.”

Sofia nods gratefully. “A drink would be nice right now.”

I don’t reply. My body is apparently coming back online and I lunge for my phone. I open Instagram and search for the AaronMarinosMistress account.

Within seconds, I’m staring at an image that makes my stomach drop. An image of myself and Aaron that’s been postedfor the entire world to see. An image that somehow perfectly captures both of our faces in the porch light, so there’s no pretending it could be anyone else.

Specifically, it’s a picture of us pressed against his front door the other night while he was kissing me senseless.

Well.Thiscan’t be good.

40

AARON

Jake stomps out onto the deck and kicks at the snow with the toe of his boot.

“A white Christmas in Atlanta, who would have thought?” I ask lightly. I’m fully aware that he’s pissed, though I’m not quite sure why. Jake sometimes gets into these grumpy spells, but this feels different. More directed.

To the point that I could almost believe he’s jumped to some conclusion about me and Olivia that isn’t even half of the real story.

But I know that’s ridiculous. And I know my friend. I need toeaseinto that particular conversation. Take it slow and careful.

Otherwise he’ll probably punch me in the face.

“Hmpf,” he mutters, unzipping his jacket. “Dunno how it’s snowing. It’s not even cold out here.”

He throws off his coat, and I can’t help but snort when I see what he’s wearing underneath.

“Nice sweater.”

“Sofia made me wear it.” He glowers down at his ugly Christmas sweater, which features several fluffy white kittenswearing Santa hats. He then turns that glare my way. “And speak for yourself.”

I run a hand over my Tree Rex sweater. “I wore it of my own volition.”

“You would.”

I don’t reply.

Jake looks at me.

I look at him.

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