Page 2 of Yours to Ho Ho Hold
“Dude, the plane is packed. There’s no such thing as space. Just sit down. I’ll have to deal with my elbows getting smacked by the drink cart. Have you ever hit your funny bone? Let me tell you, there’s nothing funny about it,” she deadpans.
I shake my head, feeling confused, like we’re somehow arguing in two different languages.
“Excuse me, sir. I’m going to need you to take your seat now,” a different flight attendant says, this one older and far less enthused with me.
“Fine. But I don’t want to hear any complaining out of you after I chug this bottle of water and have to pee every thirty minutes.” I shimmy over her because, of course, she doesn’t stand up to move out of the way, probably too afraid I’ll take her vacant seat the second she got up … Here’s the thing, thatwasmy original plan, but it looks like I’ll have to bow out of the fight this time.
I make a point to shove my ass in her face as I slide into my seat, but she just holds her book in front of her face and keeps reading.
“Whatcha reading there, Cujo?” I ask after a few moments of awkward silence.
I can practically feel the lasers shooting from her eyes as she lowers her book and glares at me. “Did you just call me Cujo?” She laughs, but it’s not a happy laugh filled with humor. It’s more of a scary laugh, the kind crazy people make right before they snap. “Because you’re one to talk. What are you? Some kind of porn star Santa Claus?” She pinches the material of my suit between her fingers like it’s something hazardous. “How’d you get past security in that, anyway?”
I flash her a charming smile and smooth down the fabric against my chest. “Easy. All they had to do was a quick once over and they could clearly see I didn’t have any contraband on me, so they let me through.” I lean back in my seat propping my hands behind my neck. “You may even say I made their jobs a little easier.” My eyes flick down at her book. “You didn’t answer my question.”
She lowers it, so I can’t see the cover, but it’s too late. I’m well aware of the smutty romance book she’s reading, even though the cover doesn’t portray what’s really inside. I know because I recognize the author’s name, the very author responsible for the Santa suit she seems to be so offended by right now. Go figure.
My little sassy seatmate just got a little more interesting …
“It’s kind of like a thriller … about this stalker who disguises himself as Santa during Christmas time.” She shakes her head and rolls her lips. “Why am I telling you this? It’s none of your business.”
“Just making friendly conversation.” I lean in and whisper, “But just so you know, I know you’re lying, and I’m going to have to put you on the naughty list for that.” I shrug. “I don’t make the rules, Sunshine. Well, maybe I do, but rules are rules …”
Her mouth drops open like she’s at a loss for words, and her cheeks tint pink. Fuck, she’s pretty. If she keeps giving me reactions like that I’m going to have a hard timenotpressing her buttons this entire flight.
She scoffs. “Sunshine. Cujo. Do you always give the woman you’re talking to a special nickname, or am I just lucky?”
I scroll through the movie selection on the small screen in front of me, not looking at her as I answer, “Well, since you haven’t told me your name—just starting slinging insults at me from the get-go—I don’t know what you’d like me to call you …” I raise an eyebrow as I glance at her.
She crosses her arms and rolls her eyes, falling silent once again.
All right, I see how it’s gonna be. Good thing I’m up for the challenge. I don’t have anything to do for the next few hours so if it’s games she wants to play then I’m all in.
I continue my perusal until I finally land on my favorite Christmas movie,Elf, and hit play.
“Of course, you’d pick that one,” she says as she picks her book back up, pretending to read.
“What do you mean? It’s Christmas. This is a classic.” I motion toward the window at the snowy scene below us, and she shivers, then immediately goes back to her book like she’s too scared to look away.
Interesting. Maybe there’s a bigger reason for her not wanting the window seat? I’m normally not one to pry, but she’s making it too damn fun.
I lift the visor all the way and prop my hands behind my head to give her a better view. Maybe she’ll think twice next time before stealing someone’s seat. When I cross an ankle over my knee, so my knee’s touching her leg I don’t miss the way her body goes rigid.
Yeah, I’m about to have so much fun fucking with her. How’s that for revenge?
She tries to scoot away, but she’s unsuccessful. There’s nowhere for her to go in this cramped space, and for the first time ever in public transportation history, I’m actually thankful for that.
“Can you not manspread? I don’t want to catch an STI from your skanky Santa suit.” She tries to shove my knee away, but I don’t budge. I can’t say I hate the way her hands feel groping my leg either.
I sit up a little like I’m confused. “I’ll have you know I had this dry-cleaned just yesterday. You seem really tense over there.” I nod toward her book. “Is that book making you sexually frustrated, and now, you’re mad because you can’t do anything about it?”
She narrows her eyes but doesn’t say anything, so I keep going.
“Are you at the part where she walks in on him, and he makes her sit in his lap without her pant—”
Her soft hand flies over my mouth to silence me. “Will you shut up?” she hisses.
It’s cute as fuck that she’s embarrassed, with her bright pink cheeks and those red lips pressed together. She’s like a little chihuahua or something, vicious and wrapped up in a tiny, cute package.
