Page 4 of The Mistletoe Trap
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Julie hung up and tossed her phone on the bed beside her organized piles and tightly rolled outfits. She’d felt silly calling Gavin for advice on swimsuit options, but she frequently analyzed to the point she simply needed someone else to tell her what to do. Gavin had been that person for so long that she couldn’t quite break the habit of calling him for advice, even on the inane.
Regardless of how famous he became, or how much the sports analysts who’d discounted him at first were fawning over him now, Gavin Frost would always be the boy she’d grown up with. Her partner duringSesame Streetmarathons, where they shared Goldfish crackers and juice boxes—well, she’d freely shared. He typically required convincing and threats of being told on. He’d also been the boy who taught her to do a flip on the trampoline, promptly followed by rushing to get their parents after she catapulted off the side and broke her arm.
Julie picked up the sturdier, one-piece swimsuit in conservative and slimming black. It brought to mind the swimsuit she’d had in junior high, and the day Gavin had persuaded her to climb into the hole he and his teammates had dug and buried her up to her chin.
Then he’d walked away.
For two whole minutes, just enough to worry her. She’d threatened him in every creative way she could conjure, and he’d kept her hostage until she pinky swore she wouldn’t follow through on her threats.
Only they hadn’t actually linked pinkies because hers had been buried. So once she was free, she’d surged up from that hole, tackled him, and made him eat sand.
Ah, the good old days, before he’d grown so much taller and stronger.
She’d stopped shy of five feet one but claimed that last inch anyway, and by the end of high school, he’d had over a foot on her. He’d also had plenty of groupies and a serious girlfriend by that point, but he’d never been embarrassed to have her tagging along—despite his much cooler group of teammates and friends.
The frame on her nightstand caught her eye, and she paused her packing to pick up one of her all-time favorite pictures. She’d graduated medical school the same weekend Gavin had a big game, so while she’d been sad he couldn’t make it, she’d understood.
But he’d taken a red-eye flight, rushed to the ceremony to surprise her, and handed over a bundle of so many helium-filled balloons she feared she might drift off into the blue, blue sky. Her parents beamed from her right, while Rashad and Darlene Frost stood on her left, doing their best to dodge the balloons that bopped them every time Julie moved. She and Gavin were front and center, his bronze skin making her pale skin look even more ghostly than usual. Then again, she’d spent two years studying indoors while he’d been playing football in the sunshine.
A thrill of excitement fired up her core as she anticipated all the fun they were going to have over Christmas break. Unfortunately, with his hectic schedule and playoffs looming, Gavin would be there in two- to three-day bursts, but still. It’d been way too long.
Ooh, I wonder if I can get him to watch that new romcom that just came out.Pouting worked like a charm on Gavin, although she’d never figured out how to stop him from mocking the flick as it played. But the truth was, as hard as she worked to be a strong, independent woman—and she was, damn it—she hated watching movies alone. It simply wasn’t as fun to quote lines afterward and ask, “Hey, remember that scene?” to her empty living room. While she had a few friends at her pathology assistant job, they were coupled and busy, and ever since her promotion, she hardly saw them.
Longing rose up and bound her lungs. These days, she hardly saw anyone. All she did was work and come home to her cat—she was surprised he wasn’t currently begging for attention, come to think of it—and then off she’d go to work again.
Because I’m boring, with a side of embarrassing.The words jabbed at the raw place in her heart that she thought had healed. “Okay, so maybe talking about the size of the tumor I’d dissected after a laryngectomy wasn’t appropriate during the intermission of the opera, but”—a grunt escaped as she bent to grab her suitcase from under the bed—“how does one not think about that when someone’s singing so high?”
That was part of the reason her ex-boyfriend had dumped her, though—evenaftershe’d purchased expensive opera tickets in an attempt to be the refined kind of woman Brad had wanted. Things had felt distant during the last two months of their relationship, so she’d thrown herself into making him happy. After the opera, they’d had sex for the first time in weeks, so she’d assumed she’d been successful. But the next morning, when she launched into a work story, he’d said, “I’m sorry, I just can’t do this anymore.”
She was foolish enough to ask why.
“Well, these stories for one, Julie. Last night you told those people seated next to us about some gross neck tumor. Not only was it embarrassing, you used enough medical jargon it managed to be boring, too. I powered through sex last night, but lately it’s just so…lackluster. You’re a nice girl, so I tried to make this work, but I can’t do it anymore. I need a lot more excitement in my life—something to look forward to at the end of the day, you know?”
No, she had not known.Nice girl. Embarrassing. Powered through sex. Boring.The insults whirring through her head effectively picked off the scab in her heart, leaving the old wound to ooze and bleed yet again.
She lifted the hot pink bikini with the built-in pushup bra she’d purchased online after deciding that what she needed was a steamy, no-holds-barred fling. After all, boring people didn’t have flings, and what better time than over Christmas break? Honestly, it was the only time she had to be flung, and with any luck, it’d also help her avoid feeling completely pathetic during her and Gavin’s families’ attempts to play matchmaker.
As if she’d cross lines with her oldest friend and ruin their perfect relationship—and that waswithouttaking into account the plethora of beautiful women who threw themselves at him all the freaking time.
How can either of our families still think that’s going to ever happen? They’re completely delusional.They were the best, and she considered both sets of parents her own, but they’d been harping on her and Gavin to become more since they were babies. Their favorite inside joke was to refer to their boyfriends and girlfriends as not-Gavin or not-Julie.
Kylo Ren leaped onto the bed and flopped on top of the neatly piled clothes with a contented purr. There went her chance at wearing outfits not covered in black cat hair. She scratched the top of his head as she contemplated her lofty goal. Landing a hottie for the holiday might tiptoe the delusional line, but she needed to erase her last sexual memory and replace it with one that wouldn’t make her lady parts want to shrivel up in shame.
She’d considered relaying her plan to Gavin, but chickened out, and was it weird she’d almost wanted him to tell her to only bring the sensible swimsuit? That way she could’ve snapped her fingers and said,Aw shucks, guess I’ll have to have that fling once I return to Phoenix instead.
The main problem with giving up before she even began was that she really missed sex. Not that her ex had been all that great at it, the jerky-faced jerk. How misogynistic of him to be condescending about her medical knowledge, too. She’d bet a million dollars he didn’t go into the doctor for a checkup, only to sayHey,can you make my visit more exciting? It’s so boring how you refer to the parts of my body by their exact names.
If anything, her anatomy expertise should make herbetterat sex, right?
If Brad were to be believed, she needed to up her game. She could and often did take constructive criticism, so no worries—she’d simply learn how to be better at it. Of course she also missed the intimacy that came along with relationships, but she couldn’t very well jump into a relationship and expect it to last if she were awful between the sheets. She needed a few practice rounds. Followed by a dress rehearsal or two—or a naked rehearsal, as it were.
Kylo Ren bumped his forehead into her hand, conveying she’d stopped petting, which he found unacceptable.
“Gavin said he’d block our families so I can flirt with a beefcake, so that’ll help.”
Her emo kitty’s eyes narrowed to slits and his purr filled the air.
