Page 31 of Oh No, My Best Friend Hates Christmas!

I frown.

“Your mom lives across the street. It’s not like you’re alone. I would never justabandonyou to solitude. That’s ridiculous.”

He sighs.

“We’re losing the plot,” he informs me.

Are we?

“What was the plot again?” I ask.

“Christmas, and how you seem to think I hate it.”

Ah, right.

“You don’t hate it?”

“Of course not. It’s your favorite time of year. I could never hate anything that makes you so happy.”

“But… but you always seem so grouchy?”

“Baby, think about it. Am I any less grouchy any other time of the year?”

My brows furrow.

I suppose he has a point. The wetness in the spring makes him cranky, and the summer heat turns him into a sweating, cursing puddle of angry. He seems to like autumn, but then, who doesn’t?

Huh.

Have I been reading this wrong? Foryears?

“You like Christmas?” I ask to confirm.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he answers. “I like what Christmas gives to you. I like the traditions you’ve made for us. I like watching you open gifts and seeing the thought and care you put into the gifts you give to everyone else. I like your cute Christmas outfits, and I like listening to you sing about reindeer and snow and colorful lights while you go about your day. Christmas itself means nothing to me without the addition of you, but the addition of you means absolutely everything.”

I melt straight into his arms.

“You silly girl,” he murmurs, holding me close. “You’ve been holding this in? Worried?”

I sniff, nodding my head against his chest.

“I’m sorry.” I mumble, feeling awkward. I wish I could say that I can’t believe I’ve made such a big deal about this, but I really can.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” he says, his accent thick. “I’m glad you said something. I can’t believe you’ve been forcing us into a miscommunication trope all these years. How very vexing.”

I blush.

Respectful, Heidi.

Sure, he just implied we are the leads in a romance book, but I am not reading into that, am I? Of course not. I am especially not reading into anything when I am emotional because I just found out the love of my life does not, in fact, hate my very favorite thing in the world – besides him, of course.

I am being respectful. I am being friendly.

I am being lifted up into the air.

I grab for purchase, wrapping my arms and legs around Baz’s thick torso.

“Basil!” I yell. “What are you doing?”

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