Page 91 of Holiday Hostilities

I should be excited, but I’m not. Which is crazy.

I spent eight years living in London all by myself, and now, I’m feeling some type of way about being home alone forfour freaking days?

Jing’s right. I’m clearly turning into a big ol’ softie.

And I must not be hiding it well, because as soon as we get out of the car, Aaron looks at me peculiarly. “What’s going on, Livvy?”

“Just thinking.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

I swat his arm playfully as we climb his front steps.

“Kidding. Kidding.” He laughs. “But seriously, what’s on your mind?”

“I’m just…” I pause as I search for the words. I feel like there’s so much to say, but I don’t know how to vocalize any of it. And this isn’t the time to say anything anyway, so I finally settle on: “I’m happy we have tonight.”

His eyes go soft. “I plan on making the most of every moment.”

We’re standing on his front porch now, just looking at each other. Neither of us makes a move to open the front door. He’s so close that I can feel the heat of his body, smell that enticingly manly, spicy cologne on his skin in a way that’s making me dizzy with want for him.

“I got you something.”

His brows rise and his lips slide into a funny little half smile, like this surprises him. “You did?”

“Wanna see?”

“I do.”

Holding eye contact, I slowly begin to undo the big, round buttons on my peacoat.

“Olivia!” Aaron’s voice is both sharp and ragged in the sexiest way, and his eyes go from emotional to flaring with heat. He quickly catches himself and glances around. “Shouldn’t we get inside?”

I grin as I undo the last button.

“Get your mind out of the sex gutter, Marino.”

I let my coat fall to the ground…

Revealing my very own hideous, fluffy Christmas sweater.

And when I say hideous, I meanhideous. It’s baby pink and made of that shaggy furry material that gives muppet vibes. It’s also covered in embroidered ice skates, and snowflakes, and baby snowmen. Across the front, in swirly, glittery script, are the words “Proud Member of Aaron’s Army.”

Aaron’s eyes go huge, and as he reads the words across my chest, he sputters an incredulous laugh.

“I was going to get one that said ‘Santa’s Favorite Ho’ but they were all sold out,” I joke, then smile up at him. “But in all seriousness, I want to take this opportunity to admit that I was very wrong about you for a very long time, Aaron Marino. And I want to thank you for making the worst time of the year a little—well, alot—better for me.”

He shakes his head, and when he speaks, his voice is thick. “You never cease to amaze me, Olivia Griswold.”

Then, he brushes his lips against mine.

The contact is electric, casting sizzling sparks all across my skin. My body’s reaction is immediate, and I stand on my tiptoes and wrap my arms around his neck, tugging him towards me so impatiently, it’s a little embarrassing.

I kiss him harder, and he leans in, his tongue in my mouth and his hands twisting in my hair.

I’m floating off into the happiest place in the world when he groans and pulls back a little. “I wasn’t going to do this,” he says against my mouth, his breathing labored.

“Do what?” I blink up at him and try to ignore the sudden doubt that maybe this—I—was too much. Maybe after a few days apart, this wasn’t what he wanted.

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