Christmas Cupid

by Ilsa Madden-Mills

So I do the only natural thing. I throw my headless gingerbread man at him and scream.

Lmaooo

I close the distance between us. Her eyes are locked on mine, her lips parted and awaiting me. I can’t resist a second longer; I have to have her.

The map might say we’re on a mountain in Tennessee, but for the first time in my life, I could swear I’m in heaven.

“Fine, be that way. More hotties for me!” That’s fine. I have my eye on just one.