Page 86 of UnLucky Christmas
It’s Christmas Eve, one of my favorite days of the year. I stare at my beautiful, flocked Christmas tree gleaming in my living room and instantly feel sad it’ll be coming down in a few weeks. Dasher is peacefully snoozing underneath it—he’ll probably be just as upset when we put it away. It’s his new favorite place to nap.
I gather all the gifts for my family and put them in a bag to take to my mother’s. The only gifts left under the tree are for my father and Grant. I want to give Grant his gift after we survive today’s festivities.
Grant is picking me up in a half hour, and we’re supposed to meet at my mother’s house at one o’clock for appetizers and cocktails courtesy of chef Bill. My mother has been posting pictures to the group chat all morning with comments likelearning from a real chefandit smells good in hereandbring your appetites. My brother sent me a separate text telling me how annoyed he was. She’s reached a whole new level when my brother says something.
Just as I slide into my little black dress, there’s a knock on my door. I excitedly hurry to answer it with Dasher at my heals. I fling the door open expecting to see Grant, but I freeze because it’s not him. It’s Pete.
“Merry Christmas, Whitney.”
I’m not sure how to react. I thought I made myself clear the last time I saw him.
“Um, thanks. Merry Christmas to you,” I pause. “Why are you here?”
He hands me a small square box of gourmet chocolates.
“I’ve been thinking about you a lot,” he says softy. “I know how important today is to you, and I think I’m ready. To be in a committed relationship.”
Is he really doing this now?
“Wow. Well Pete, I’m happy for you, and I wish you the best.”
He holds up his hand. “Wait. This is coming out wrong. What I’m trying to say is that I’ve taken the time I needed to think, and I’m ready to try again if you are.”
My eyes move to Grant, who’s walking toward us. This should be interesting.
“I know you told me you were moving on…”
Grant moves past him and stands next to me.
“Can I help you with something?” he interrupts. His tone is cold and serious.
Pete looks at him and furrows his brow. “No, and we’re in the middle of a conversation.”
“Actually, we’re done. There’s nothing more to say,” I reply nonchalantly.
Grant gives him a sympathetic look. “Sorry man, it sounds like your conversation is over.”
Pete presses his lips into a straight line. I can tell he’s trying to think of something to say.
“Is there anything else?” Grant asks pointedly.
Pete looks completely defeated. “No. Good-bye, Whitney.”
“Good-bye.”
Grant and I walk inside, and he shoves his hands in his pockets.
“Are you okay?”
I fold my arms. “Well, it’s Christmas Eve, and you haven’t kissed me yet.”
He throws his head back, letting a laugh escape.
He inches toward me, lifts my chin, and brings his mouth to mine.
“You haven’t kissed me yet either.”
I effortlessly toss the box of chocolates on the counter and wrap my arms around his waist. I breathe in his heavenly scent and melt into his body.
