Page 70 of I Blame the Alcohol

ME: Not as much as you missed me.

I grin, watching his typing bubbles pop up then disappear. Beating Cody in conversation is almost as satisfying as teasing him in the bedroom.

Almost.

Humming to myself, I kill time waiting for his response by pulling up the photo Lou sent me this morning. It’s of her and Wes wearing matching Christmas pyjamas, looking sickeningly adorable with aHappy Holidays!sign held up between their smiling faces.

CODY: Come to your bedroom so I can show you how much I missed you.

Now there’s an offer any self-respecting woman should never refuse.

I pivot in the hallway, almost crashing into my father as I go running around the corner.

“Stella. You should know better than to run indoors. Watch where you're going.” An arm reaches out to steady me as cold blue eyes meet mine.

“Sorry, father. I am late for a date.”

Booty-call would be more accurate, but that is one detail I am sure my father could go without. His eyes narrow, taking in my baggy sweatshirt and loose cargo pants.

“You may want to get yourself cleaned up. Your hair has seen better days.”

Ouch.

Holding back a grimace, I give the man who funds my lifestyle a tight smile.

“Good idea. I will get right on that.” I go to step around him but hesitate when I remember Lou’s photo, “Merry Christmas by the way.”

Jonathan turns his head sharply, and for a moment, I swear I see a glimmer of regret break through his hardened gaze. But as always, my father choses the safer, more distant route and gives me a stiff nod before continuing down the hall.

Shaking off the disappointment, I return to the mission at hand and make it to my bedroom without any further hallway accidents. There’s only one man I want to crash into at this point and I find him waiting for me on my bed with a small white box in his hand.

Wait. Why is there a small white box in his hand?

Trying to absorb the sexy figure lounging on my pink comforter in a plain white t-shirt and black jeans, it takes a second for my brain to connect the festive dots.

“Is that for me?” He nods and I don’t bother holding back my squeal of excitment.

Cody chuckles, “Don’t get excited until you open it.”

I march over and snatch the box from his hands, “You could have gotten me an empty box and I would still be excited. The last Christmas present I opened was wrapped in an obituary and it was incredible.”

Cody gives me a confused look and I laugh, “It was from Lou.”

“Ah.” He nods, no longer needing an explanation.

I gingerly sit next to him on the bed, my hands shaking slightly as I peel off the lid. Up close, the box isn’t white but covered in white sparkles, making it look like a layer of fresh snow perfectly glued in place. Baby pink paper tissue greets me when I finally get inside, the meticulous wrapping already bringing tears to my eyes.

For me, presents have never been about the purchase. It’s about the thought and effort behind the gesture.

“At this rate, I'm going to die of old age before the big reveal.” Cody’s breath tickles my ear, his proximity much closer than it was two seconds ago.

I shush him, “Don’t rush me. I'm enjoying myself.”

“By all means then. Admire the pink paper.”

I try for a scowl but end up beaming in his direction, “I will, thank you.”

Cody heaves a sigh, flopping down on my bed. The mattress bounces beneath me and I’m suddenly distracted by the sight of his bare torso peeking out beneath his shirt.

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