Page 11 of A Very Grumpy Christmas

Two hours and a bottle of wine later, Cora and I are sprawled out on my couch, giggling like schoolgirls as we scroll through dating profiles on my laptop.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” I say, covering my face with my hands as Cora types furiously on the keyboard.

“You need to put yourself out there,” she says, laughing as she adds another detail to my profile. That’s been her mantra tonight. I swear that she’s told me the same thing a dozen times in the last two hours, and she just keeps repeating it as she gets even more drunk.

I groan, but I can’t help but laugh along with her. I’m definitely tipsy, my head buzzing pleasantly from the wine, and for the first time in days, I’m not thinking about my mystery man. I’m not obsessing over the letters or the lack of a response. Instead, I’m just... here, in the moment, laughing with my best friend.

“Okay, let’s see,” Cora says, reading off the screen. “Loves Christmas, works at a bookstore, a bakery, and an adult toy store, terrible at dating—check, check, and check.”

I snort, rolling my eyes. “Thanks for that glowing endorsement. I’ll have guys hitting me up left and right with that bio!”

Cora grins, setting the laptop down on the coffee table. “It will work and you’ll thank me later. Besides, if this doesn’t work out, we’ll just delete it. No harm, no foul.”

I sigh, leaning back against the cushions, feeling a little lighter than I have in days. “I guess you’re right. Maybe this is what I need.”

“Exactly,” Cora says, her voice slurring slightly as she grabs her glass. “Now, let’s just relax and let the magic happen.”

I smile, closing my eyes as the warmth of the wine settles over me, making my limbs heavy and my mind foggy. Cora leans her head on my shoulder, and before I know it, the sounds of the world start to fade away, and I’m drifting off to sleep.

When I wake up the next morning, my head throbs, and the first thing I see is Cora sprawled out on the floor, snoring softly. The empty bottle of wine sits on the coffee table, and my laptop is still open to my brand-new dating profile.

I groan, rubbing my temples as I sit up, the events of last night slowly coming back to me. I glance at the clock and realize I’m late to help Olive out at the bakery—really late.

Shit.

I scramble off the couch, nudging Cora with my foot as I try to gather my bearings. “Cora, wake up. We overslept.”

She groans, burying her face in the couch cushions. “Five more minutes...”

I laugh despite the pounding in my head, and as I rush to get ready for the day, I can’t help but feel nervous. I’m not ready to try online dating, not when I’m still so hung up on my secret admirer.

What other choice do I have, though? If he won’t meet me, then I need to try something else. Who knows, maybe putting myself out there won’t be such a bad idea after all.

FIVE

Kip

I thoughtI had more time. I thought I could delay meeting her a little longer, could maybe come up with the perfect way to reveal myself.

But then I found out about the dating profile.

When Huxley told me, I almost didn’t believe him. He’d mentioned it in passing, as if it were no big deal, but my heart had dropped like a stone. Ginger Baker, my Ginger, had made an online dating profile. And now, the thought of her meeting some random guy, letting him get close to her—mygirl—it was driving me insane.

I shouldn’t be this angry. I know that. But I can’t help it. After all these months of writing to her, pouring out everything I’m too afraid to say in person, the thought of someone else stepping in where I haven’t had the courage to go... it’s too much.

I grab my phone, my hands shaking with frustration as I open the dating app Huxley mentioned. It takes me a few minutes to find her, but when I do, my stomach twists. There sheis, smiling at the camera, her profile casual and sweet, just like her.

I stare at the screen, my heart pounding as I hover over the message button. This is a terrible idea. I shouldn’t be doing this. But I can’t stop myself. My thumb taps the button, and before I know it, I’m typing out the first thing that comes to mind.

Take your dating profile down.

I hit send beforeI can think better of it, my pulse racing as I wait for her to respond. What the hell am I doing? This isn’t the way to handle this, but I can’t shake the fear gnawing at me—the fear of losing her before I’ve even had a chance to show her who I really am.

The phone buzzes in my hand, and I look down at her reply.

Excuse me?Why? Who is this?

I swallow hard,my mind racing as I try to figure out what to say next. I can’t exactly tell her the truth, not yet. But I also can’t stand the idea of her going out with someone else. I clench my jaw and type out my next message.

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