Page 23 of The Jinglebell War
His smile slips. “Are you sure you’re okay? I was expecting a lot more—”
I’m so not in the mood for this. “Get out, Garrick.”
He hesitates. “Just because we’re frenemies, it doesn’t mean you can’t talk to me.”
“That’s exactly what it means.” Why is my throat so tight it’s hard to talk? “If you aren’t going to clean this up, just go.”
“Any chance I can see your reaction to the bedroom before I leave?”
“No. I want to pretend you’ve never been in my bedroom at all.”
He stares at me for a long moment and the intensity of his gaze, the kind patience in his expression, eases something that was tight in my chest.
Along with that easing, the tears I’ve been holding back roll down my cheeks.
Garrick’s expression softens still further into something like pity. Embarrassment, the kind that makes me want to erase Garrick’s memory and curl up in a ball until the world disappears. floods me.
I don’t cry in front of anyone. And no one, fucking no one, pities me.
“Seen enough?” I ask.
He takes a step toward me, hand out. “Blue…”
“Get out.” I’m too tired for anger, too defeated to have the energy to make him feel as bad as I do. And there’s a part of me, a part I hate more than the humiliation of this moment, that longs for him to pull me against that firm chest and hold me until I can believe again that everything’s going to be okay.
But Garrick just nods once, turns, and leaves.
I wait until the door shuts behind him before I drop onto the couch, pull my knees up to my chest, and stare at the abomination he calls a Christmas tree.
What the hell is the point? What’s the point of fighting with this guy when it’s a battle that’s never going to end?
I can’t give him what he wants, and he’ll never believe I can’t. It’s as pointless a battle as me trying to help Peach when she refuses to see that she needs it.
My chest tightens, and my eyes burn. My entire purpose, for as long as I can remember, has been taking care of my baby sister. Without that, what the hell is the point of anything?
Another damn tear slips down my cheek. I never cry. I’m the strong one. I’m the one who gets things done.
But I can’t seem to turn off the faucets connected to my eyeballs as more tears stream down my face.
Something soft brushes against my hand and I look down, through the haze of my tears, to see Lilith rubbing her velvet nose against my knuckles.
I freeze as she shoves her head under my arm, then pushes forward with her whole body, until she’s on my lap and licking the tears from my face.
Honestly, I’m not entirely sure she isn’t trying to eat me.
She pulls her face away from mine until she’s looking me in the eyes and she growls softly. She continues to stare and growl, a sound just above a purr.
“You’re right,” I say, a new emotion rising to replace my sadness. A much better emotion. “There’s no point in crying over any of this. It won’t change anything. I have to get off my ass and do something.”
I will swear to my dying day that Lilith nods once in agreement before curling into a tight ball on my lap and purring.
There is so much to do. I need to get the council to accept me as mayor. I need to get Peach to change her wedding venue and avoid disaster. And, the easiest one of all, I need to make Garrick Evergreen realize I’m a force to be reckoned with.
If I can get him back really good, I can get him to leave me alone so I can figure out how to solve my other problems.
And for that, I think it’s time I admit I can’t do all of this alone.
Without disturbing a sleeping Lilith, I stretch out an arm and pull my cell phone from my purse. I make a call to Las Vegas and the best friends I have on earth, other than Peach and Cherry.
