Page 76 of Holiday Hostilities

“Okay, look.” The man drops his voice further. “I heard this through the grapevine, but he’s just using her for appearancesafter that story blew up on Thanksgiving. She’s a cover so he looks good. Basically his beard. Rumor has it that the team’s GM was really pissed about the whole thing so this—she—is purely for optics.”

“You think?” Tessa asks, her question sounding hopeful in a way that makes my stomach churn. “That would make sense. I mean, she’s not even that pretty. She was looking at him tonight like a lovesick puppy, and don’t get me wrong, I’m sooooo over him, but I just don’t understand what she can offer him that I couldn’t.”

The guy snorts. “Maybe she’s a nice person?”

His voice is laced with sarcastic laughter and Tessa laughs, too. The bitter, high-pitched, mocking sound makes me feel like my skin is burning.

“Oh, yeah,” she agrees. “Because Aaron Marino issointo women’s… personalities.”

The guy snorts. “He never stays long enough to find out if a woman even has one.”

“You definitely don’t want to catch feelings for him,” Tessa says. She’s still laughing, but I can’t help but hear how her voice cracks slightly. “Because he sure won’t catch them for you.”

I take another step back, and another. And when I know I’m out of earshot, I bolt for the stairs, thanking my stars that I ditched my heels earlier.

I run to Aaron’s bedroom and duck into the ensuite, my heart pounding.

When I look in the mirror, I’m horrified to see tears dripping down my face. And I can’t stop sniffling. I quickly turn on the shower full-blast to drown out any potential noise in case this pesky tearfulness turns into a full-blown ugly cry.

It’s probably an unnecessary precaution to have the shower going—the party downstairs is loud and raucous—but I’ll be damned if I let Aaron Marino hear me cry.

That was just so…humiliating.

Letting out a shaky breath, I try to let my logical self beat out my emotional one:

I have no reason to be upset. Tessa’s mean friend wasn’t wrong when he said that this was just a cover and I’d be old news soon. I knew all along that this wasn’t real; tonight was just about making itlookreal, and I was dumb enough to confuse reality with acting when we were dancing together earlier and Aaron rested his forehead against mine.

We clearly did a good job pretending because Tessa—whoever she is—sure seemed to buy it.

So, you know, go us.

But then, something horrible happens. Because the more I try to reason with myself, the harder the tears fall. And I know, deep down, that this is about more than the conversation I just overheard—hurtful as it was about the way I look.

There’s a sudden knock at the door.

“Olivia?” Aaron’s voice carries over the rush of the shower water.

“I’m showering!” I yell back. “Go away.”

“Are you naked?” he counters, not going away.

“People are usually naked when they shower, yes.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” He pauses. “Plus, you don’t sound like you’re in the shower, you sound like you’re right on the other side of the door.”

“I’m, uh, about to get undressed. For said shower.”

“So, you’re fully clothed.”

“Um. Not no?”

“Okay, hold up. I’m coming in for a minute.”

“No, I?—”

The door swings open. “You said you’d be right back and then you disappeared so I came looking, but I can’t say I understand the logic of showering during a pa?—”

His words come to an abrupt halt when he sees me, and the teasing grin on his face falls right off.

---