Page 58 of A Very Merry Enemy
The screen goes dark, and the room explodes with noise.
I can’t breathe or think. The room is too loud, too bright, too full of eyes staring at me, whispering about me, and speculation about what I’ll choose.
I stand to leave, trying to avoid everyone’s conversations about me. I walk out of the room.
“Holiday—” My mom reaches for me with worry etched on her face.
“I need air.” My voice cracks.
I shove through the crowd toward the exit, stumbling over someone’s feet.
I make it outside, and the cold air slaps my face. I stumble to the side of the building as I start dry heaving. Nothing comes up.
I feel Lucas’s hand on my back, hesitant at first, then more firm. Steadying me.
“Breathe,” he says quietly.
I want to shove him away, but his hand is the only thing keeping me grounded.
Dominic is coming here. Next week. And he won’t make this easy for me.
The realization crashes over me that he probably pulledwhatever strings necessary to get on that panel once my name was posted online as a contestant.
This is exactly the types of games he likes to play, and he loves an audience.
“Holiday,” Lucas says beside me.
“Please,” I tell him, trying to throw up. “Leave me alone.”
“No.” He’s standing there with his hands clenched into fists and every muscle tense with rage.
“I can’t do this.” My voice breaks. “I have to quit, Lucas.”
“Absolutely not,” Lucas says, his jaw locking in place.
I try to move past him to go to my car. He grabs my hand, pulling me to him. “I can’t.”
He lifts my chin. “The Holiday I know isn’t a fucking quitter.”
“You don’t know me anymore, Lucas. Let me go.”
He shakes his head. “Not happening, Peaches.”
“Stop calling me that,” I say.
“Not a chance, HoHo.” His smile is small, almost sad. “Someone has to remind you who you are because you seem to have forgotten.” He’s closer now, so close, I can see the gold flecks in his eyes. “We’re doing this. We’ll make sure our cookies are so damn good he has no choice but to judge fairly. Make him eat his words. We make him watch you succeed without him.”
“I don’t have the energy to fight you both.”
His stare is unwavering. “Giving up isn’t an option.”
“Okay.”
He’s looking at me like he can see straight through to my soul. “Prove to him and everyone else that you don’t need him. That you never did.”
Then he turns and starts to walk away, leaving me gasping against the wall.
“So now you want to bake with me?” I ask.
