Faking Under the Mistletoe

by Ashley Shepherd

“Are you the carbohydrate police?” “Of course not,” I say. “I had three donuts before I got here.” “Then why are you eating my bagel?” “Because I’m an emotional eater and your lack of Christmas cheer is making me very sad.”

“It’s all in good fun.” “I’m not having any fun.” “You never do.”

“Is this guy bothering you, Liv?” Deacon asks. “Am I bothering her?” Asher says. “You must not have spent enough time with her if she isn’t bothering you.”

“Ash? Do you have any of that expensive chocolate you keep in your desk?” “How do you know I keep expensive chocolate in my desk?” “Urban legend.”

“You didn’t give me pants,” I tell him. “I believe you told me you don’t trust people who wear pants to bed.” “I know, but it’s still polite to offer. You might give a girl the wrong idea.” “Would you like pants, Olivia?” “Of course not,” I say. “Who wears pants to bed?”

Men have been disappointing women for centuries. And if I’m going to throw myself in front of a train, it’s not going to be because of a man. It’ll be because the government found my blog about the extraterrestrials.

“Olivia?” Asher’s voice is muffled by his pillows and sheets. “Yeah?” “I think I’m in love with you.”

All you can eat Nutella? Yes, please.