Page 89 of Holiday Hostilities

I’m hilarious, I know.

Of course you were.

Also, it’s tomorrow morning for you right now, which means that you are in the future. What’s it like?!

I open my phone camera and turn it to selfie mode, snapping a picture of myself backlit by the sparkling morning sun.

The future is bright.

The future is breathtaking.

This makes me blush like crazy, and I’m in half a mind to fan myself with the menu.

Stop flirting with me, Marino.

No.

Seriously can’t wait to be home.

Guess I can live with that.

We fly home from Philly tomorrow morning. When do you fly back?

Tonight, Vietnam time. I’ll arrive in Atlanta with plenty of time to make it to your game.

I can hardly believe that tomorrow is December 23rd, and the last Cyclones game before the Christmas break. Following that, Aaron and I will have the night together at his place before he flies to Jersey the next morning for the holidays.

And when he comes back? Well, it’ll almost be time for me to move out.

I ended up accepting the first apartment Aaron and I looked at last week, and I’m due to move in on the first. I loved the one that Kris showed us, but the numbers simply didn’t add up. Plus, when I looked up the listing again, it was gone. The place must’ve been leased to someone else, which was disappointing, but ultimately allowed me to make my peace and move on.

I’m sure the one I took will be just fine. I’ve been looking forward to having my own space for ages, yet after a few weeks at Aaron’s, there’s a part of me that doesn’t feel like it wants the space anymore.

I’m shaken out of my thoughts by a new message.

You gonna turn up wearing my jersey, Griswold?

A thrill runs through me at the thought of turning up to a Cyclones game wearing a number 22 jersey. But I’m pretty sure Jake would blow a fuse.

I’m about to text this to Aaron, but then, a store just below me catches my eye.

A custom clothing store.

No. I’ll be wearing something even better.

35

OLIVIA

“That was amazing!” Jing gushes, flinging her arms—which are surely being weighed down by the bells attached to the sleeves of her ridiculous Christmas sweater—around me. “That man is incredible to watch on the ice.”

I grin as we walk through the sea of crimson jerseys in the arena’s concourse. “Which one?”

“Well, all of them,” she concedes, poking her tongue out at me. “But I was specifically referring to the hottie with a body that you took a very sexy shower with recently. Not to mention the date he took you on that was straight out of a Hallmark Christmas movie.”

“Shh!” I hiss, flapping my hands at her as I glance around to see if anyone overheard. Lucky for me, nobody is paying attention.

The entire arena is buzzing right now off the back of a Cyclones win, and the feel of Christmas in the air.

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