Page 100 of The Idiot

Miranda walks over, sipping her adult beverage, and watches the entertainment for a while too. When she glances over at us, she rolls her eyes and smirks.

“You’re disgusting,” she informs me, but it’s not an insult. I know because she moves in and ruffles Murph’s hair, giving him an affectionate smile before sauntering off.

She’s right. I am. Disgustinglyhappy.

“That is the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” I call after her. “Thank you.”

I sense a formidable presence, the kind that’s usually a huge dick. Yup. It’s Pete.

Has he been leaning in the doorway, staring at us this entire time? What did I do—leave a ring on his dining table from my glass or something?

No. That can’t be it. I put a napkin down. Despite what I let him think, I actually make an effort not to trigger him. So, what the heck is he eyeballing us for?

You know what? I don’t even care.

I nestle closer to Murph. Murph warmth is the best warmth.

“Our tree is way better,” I murmur against his chest, thinking about the one we put up at my house, although I’m happy to say I think it’s becomingourhouse, aside from the occasional night we spend at his mom’s. Thursdays with Charlotte—meatloaf and Breathless. They really should have let me in on that years ago.

“We barely have any ornaments on ours,” Murph counters.

“Yeah, but it’s taller, and we chopped it down by hand in the woods. We didn’t buy it from a lot, which I guarantee is what Pete did. He has a thing about sap.”

“Wechopped it down? I distinctly recall not only carrying the axe, but doing all the chopping.”

“You looked good doing it. I was enjoying the view. I did get the tree stand out of my attic, though.”

“This is true,” he concedes.

His fingers card through my hair, making me wish we were home, curled up in bed. Mom announces that it’s time to open gifts, though, and everyone crowds into the sitting area. Snuggle time will have to wait a few more hours.

Pete takes a place on the couch with Cam next to me and Murph. He looks over at me suspiciously, as though I’m a stranger.

“Merry Christmas,” he all but mutters, giving me a nod.

Wow. That was almost the equivalent of a hug for him.

“Back at ya, bro.” Lifting my head, I call out to Cam, “Nice shindig. You outdid yourself, Cam.”

“Oh, thanks. I think the stuffing was a little overdone. It was too dry, but at least I got the turkey right.”

“Everything was fine,” Pete tells him affectionately, squeezing his knee.

They’re so ridiculous. Sitting up, I accept some gifts from my niece, who’s playing Christmas elf. I feel like I’m being watched again. This time, it isn’t Pete whose scrutiny I’m under.

“What?” I chuff, getting a rush of adrenaline when my niece plops my gift for Murph in his lap.

Do you know how difficult it was to find an entire set of ABBA bobblehead dolls? He’s going to love them. Now, Lasso Ted won’t be lonely.

“You haven’t given your brother shit once today,” he whispers. “Are you feeling alright?”

Just as he asks, Pete hands him a card, and says, “Happy holidays, Murphy. Nice to have you here as family this year. I hope we keep seeing you.”

“Uh, thanks.” Murph flusters adorably. “Very happy to be here.”

Glancing at me, his surprise over the compliment is evident. If Pete wants to be kind to me via Murph, I can more than live with that.

“See?” I challenge. “That’swhy. There’s no joy in messing with him anymore.”

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