Holiday Hostilities (Cyclones Christmas, #2)

by Katie Bailey

“What’s up, Lil Griz?” I inquire with an innocent smile. I gave her that nickname a million years ago. Mostly because, back in high school, I thought she was insanely hot and it was a good way to constantly remind myself that she was my best buddy’s little sister. A decade later, the name has stuck. She’s still hot, too.

How, underneath all the banter and sparring, I was always kind of obsessed with the fire in her eyes.

“I hate you.” “You know what they say, don’t you? ‘Hate is much closer to love than indifference.’ Which means you practically love me.” Her cheeks flare an entirely new, quite pretty, shade of maroon. “In your dreams, Marino!” And, purely for scientific purposes (AKA to see if I can make those cheeks darken to an even deeper red), I wink at her. “Every night, Lil Griz.” Like I said, when in doubt, act like a jackass.

“Well, you look beautiful in my beautiful home,”

I meet her eyes. “I remember everything about you, Olivia. Every last detail.”

“Olivia.” He turns around and his eyes meet mine. “I don’t give a damn about my car right now. What I do give a damn about is getting you home safe. Will you please allow me to do that?”

“Nah, I was always more into redheads.” “Ha, ha.” My voice feels suddenly thick and I hope he can’t hear it. He illegally parks the truck right where he illegally parked his car the last time he dropped me home and turns to look at me, his eyes burning into mine with undeniable heat this time as he says, “I’m not joking, Olivia.”

“I would’ve been happy to watch you bid ten times that, so long as you ended up on stage next to me at the end of it all.”

“If one of us was ever not good enough, it was me. You were—and still are—so far out of my league.”

“I mean it. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

“Trust me—no other woman can hold a candle to you. Even with puffy red panda eyes and smudged lipstick.”

“The only thing I hate about you, Olivia, is having to be around you and not being able to do this.” He leans forward and carefully, measuredly, brushes his lips across mine, featherlight and teasing and warm and entirely perfect.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this, Olivia? Do you know how many times I’ve laid in bed at night, thinking about you? Dreaming about doing exactly this with you?”

Maybe a part of me has been waiting for her, all this time.

And right there, in the darkness, I realize with startling clarity that I have, indeed, fallen head over heels in love with her.

“I just want to be with you, Olivia. Whatever you want that to look like, I’m here for it. I’m yours.”

“I love her. I’m hopelessly, completely in love with her. I think I might have always loved her.”

“The way I feel about you is all-consuming—it’s everything. You’re everything. I’ve been in love with you forever, and I’ll continue to love you forever, and then after forever ends.”

“The only reason I was drawn to women with red hair in the first place was because of you. I never forgot you.”

“Because when you walked back into my life again all those months ago, and I saw you standing in that club in that silver dress looking like you were straight out of my wildest dreams, I knew, deep down, that there was no one else for me. That dating other people was now entirely out of the question, because anyone else would pale in comparison.”