The Plight Before Christmas (Holiday Hijinx Series #1)

by Kate Stewart

“I don’t think this is going to work.” “Why?” “Because we’re in different places.” “I don’t understand, Whitney. We’re both in my apartment.” Game over.

Staying with him for that length of time, again, eight inches, I consider justified at this stage in my life.

We should just save ourselves the back pain and buy flats and a vibrator because—at the end of the day—all we’re left with is the credit card bill for uncomfortable shoes we can’t afford and inevitable heartache.

I blame my father for my organizational skills and the lack of sanity that occurs when things don’t go according to my grand plans.

“Just remember when times get hard, when your problems are blinding you, that you’re on a floating planet in the middle of a vast galaxy filled with the unexplainable, and the only thing holding you to it is an invisible force you can’t see.” “Gravity,” I whisper softly,

Grams and I will never again have a long convo while Gramps snoozes next to her in his matching recliner.

OUCH!!

I saw stars, and he stole them from me and ran.

I’ve fought to reverse my introvert’s aversion to crowds and noise, it can still paralyze me with anxiety. Using the breathing techniques I mastered, I gradually immerse myself back into my surroundings.

“Uh huh. My Adam’s apple appreciates your attention, but I would prefer you look at me.”

“We’re still breathing, and our hearts are still beating. So, no, I don’t think it’s too late.”

And fuck the girl inside of me that’s ready to lift her shirt, titties blazing at the first sign of plastic beaded promises.

He gazes down at me, his eyes glittering. “You made me lose time. Unless I’m reading, I rarely ever do that.”

“One heavy summer, wasn’t it?” Sean covers his chest with his hand. “Until she broke my heart.” He says it in a way that even I’m convinced.

MY HEART!

Eli needs order, routine, and he sticks with it no matter what. Even in the worst weather, he gets his ridiculously long runs in, studies a set number of hours every night, and has made it his personal mission to read a book a day.

i love him

“Maybe I’m boring, Whitney. Maybe I’m just not the fun fucking guy, okay? So, do me a favor and stop painting me as the villain every time I turn down an invitation.”

im on his side

“What are you missing? I think it’s me, and I think I’m missing you, and I think we’ve been missing each other for a long fucking time. Mistletoe,” he rasps out, a second before his lips crush mine.

“I swear to God,” Serena says, “if Thatch asks me ‘what’s for dinner’ one more time, I’m going to lose my shit.”

I’m also the one who closed myself off to the endless possibilities and made decisions about my future without really weighing how much I could lose because of them.

“What the—” wretch—“fuck”—wretch—“do they put” wretch—heave “in baby food?”

I loved her then, soul-deep. I love her now, perpetually.

“I was so lonely I used to have conversations with—” “The moon,” I say softly, tears gliding down my cheeks as I remember his confession about the sky.

“It’s constantly there, but it’s archaic, turbulent, whimsical, vast, and everchanging, differentiating the days even if I’m looking out of the same window. The moon is my favorite companion.”

“Well, that makes sense. It’s got one hell of a gravitational pull, which has you fitting right in with us.”