Page 18 of A Very Addicted Christmas

Tom shakes his head. “Don’t ask.”

Eliot is quick to tell me. “I wastryingto take a selfie for someone, and we talked aboutOthellofor fifteen minutes.”

“A girl he met at Superheroes & Scones,” Tom clarifies since I’m out of the loop. He glances at Eliot. “What’s her name?”

“Natalya.”

I smile over at Eliot, wondering if this is it. Cosmic love for one of us. The universe is finally drawing hearts around Eliot. “That’s very Aunt Willow and Uncle Garrison, you know. Running into your soul mate at Superheroes & Scones.”

“No,” Tom cuts in, eyes widening. “Not a soul mate, Luna. She challenged him to take anakedselfie.”

“Tastefully, I did it,” Eliot says. “WithoutCharlie’s copy ofOthello.I usedThe Taming of the Shrewinstead.”

“You sent it to her?”

He nods.

Oh no. “What if she leaks the pic?”

Tom tips his head to Eliot. “Yeah, dude, what if sheleaksthe pic?” He says it in a way that he must’ve asked his brother this before.

Eliot rests his forearms on his knees, leaning forward. “So what if it is leaked?”

Is he counting on it? Or is he just okay with that fate?

“It hasn’t been,” Tom tells me, “which makes me think she’s never going to do it.”

Eliot doesn’t look too disappointed. It’s like he escaped the burn of the fire. He likes tiptoeing the edge of danger more than most people. I’m not too afraid of getting close to the flames, but I am disappointed in myself when I do feel a scorch. Like Iknowbetter.

I wish I could be that confident every time I near a fuck-up. I guess Eliot wouldn’t even consider a leaked nude a fuck-up. Should I just rewire my brain to perceive every failure as a purposeful achievement? How do you even do that?

The only sound comes from the cracking wood and a hoot of an owl in the distance. We’re all in deep revere until Tom breaks the silence. “About, uh, my long-lost…long-lostfeelings on Farrow, can we promise here and now not to mention themeverto Moffy or his new boyfriend?”

“Who happens to be Farrow,” Eliot says with a rising grin.

Tom pales more. “Yeah.That.Promise, right now.”

“On my deathbed, I won’t tell them. I swear to it, brother.”

“I promise.” I extend my pinky to Tom beside me.

He hooks his pink with mine and nods strongly with Eliot.

While Tom relaxes, I ask Eliot, “I thought you’d go on tour with them.” I haven’t heard him even considering going.

“I have…matters to attend here…” He’s sort of cagey, avoiding my gaze and poking at the charred logs. Embers burst at the bottom of the fire. “And you? Why aren’t you going?”

I shake my head slowly, unsure. “I don’t think my parents would let me.”

His lips begin to rise. “When has that ever stopped us?”

Tom shares his mischievous grin. “He speaks the truth.”

I wish I could also share in their grins, in the wild notion that I could run away and join the FanCon tour without my parents knowing, and maybe I could. Maybe I could link up with the tour bus and surprise everyone there.

That’s an idea.

It lifts my shoulders, but my frown deepens, knowing what I want to run away from. What’s here.

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