Page 95 of Holiday Hostilities

37

AARON

“You’re wrong, Mom,” I say, checking the dictionary propped open in my lap. “Zaxesisa word—technically, the term for tools that cut roof slates.” I lean forward to count the points. “And it’s on a triple-word score, which means that Olivia and Nonna win.”

“Yes!” Olivia high-fives my grandmother, and Nonna grasps Olivia’s hand to hoist it above her head in a victory pose.

“Take that, losers!” Nonna crows, which makes Liv laugh.

“Yeah, loser,” she parrots, eyes dancing as she levels her gaze on me. “In your face!”

“Such a gracious and humble winner you make, Griswold.”

“Such a sore loseryoumake, Marino. I bet you’re dying inside. You never lose Scrabble.”

She’s right, I don’t. But I’m happy to lose to her.

I can’t look away from her sparkling eyes, her smiling lips, the way she gestures wildly as she and my grandmother celebrate their winning word. One that Nonna somehow happened to know and which makes me wonder what tricks she might have up her sleeve.

Literally. The woman has been known to shove tiny Scrabble cheat sheets up her shirtsleeves.

“Ah, well,” Mom says and I look over to see her smiling at me, a knowing glint in her eye. She clearly caught me in the act of gazing at Olivia. “Can’t win ‘em all.”

I toss my fingers through my hair with a sheepish smile before starting to collect everyone’s dessert plates.

Earlier tonight, I was feeling torn about going home to New Jersey. But now, I have everyone here with me, in one place.

In addition to this, we won our game earlier tonight, so the Cyclones are officially on a winning streak. I also haven’t heard from Brandi since the gala, and my love life has most definitely not been in the media—which means that Lieberman is placated and my captaincy is no longer being questioned.

A perfect end to the year, if you ask me.

Frick, I love Christmas.

Now, after an evening of pasta and wine and lots of gossip about Uncle Dino’s new hair plugs that he absolutely insists he did not get, we call it a night. Olivia gives Mom and Nonna big hugs before she heads to bed, but instead of following her, they wait until she’s upstairs and out of sight before turning to me with huge, matching grins.

“She’s a keeper, that one,” Nonna says in a satisfied tone, hands on her hips.

I load the last glass into the dishwasher, then turn to face them. “I know.”

“What does her brother make of all this?” Mom tilts her head curiously.

I’m a bit rattled by the question. I’ve kissed Jake’s little sister twice now, and I haven’t talked to him about it. Haven’t told him how I feel about her.

Which probably makes me a terrible friend.

“We, um, haven’t told him yet,” I admit. “This thing between us is pretty new, and Olivia and I haven’t even had a chance to talk about what we are, let alone tell other people.”

Mom frowns, her dark eyes scrutinizing. “What do you mean you don’t know what this is between you? You’re clearly head over heels for her.”

“Hopelessly so,” Nonna adds cheerfully. “You should see your face when you look at the girl. You’re a lovesick fool for her.”

“That’s rude.” I chuckle.

“No, it’s accurate. And it’s not an insult. That’s exactly how I imagine I look at Patrick Dempsey, especially when he’s playing McDreamy.” Nonna sighs.

Mom puts a hand on my arm. “Word of advice. If you’re as serious about Olivia as you seem to be, I’d recommend telling Jake sooner rather than later. He’s your oldest friend.”

She’s right. I know she’s right.

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