Cooper glopped a huge spoonful of red buttercream onto his Santa-shaped sugar cookie and nodded seriously. “That’s the rumor. Balls is back for good.”
“Hmm, well, this sub job is only temporary. Not sure what I’ll do after that. Maybe go back to Denver. Maybe run away to Mexico. TBD on my life, Coop.”
“Well, I’ve got a good feeling about this,” he insisted, spreading the frosting in the least detail-oriented way I had ever seen. He shrugged and grinned at me. “Mistletoe has missed you. Mistletoe is so excited you’re home. Mistletoe would really like to get to know you again.”
I reached for a cookie shaped like a candy cane. “Oh really? That’s how Mistletoe feels? About me?”
“Oh, yeah, for sure,” Cooper added a dollop of green to his red frosting, turning the poor Santa a brownish shade of yellow. “Mistletoe has always been really into you.”
“Mistletoe has always been into me?” Cooper’s code wasn’t hard to figure out, but it felt unreal, impossible. I couldn’t believe him.
“Since we were kids,” he confirmed breezily, as if this wasn’t the most shocking information he could have ever dropped. He added two black smudges for eyes, turning his sickly-looking Santa into a ghoulish apparition.
“Cooper,” I hissed, my frosting brush hovering over my still-blank cookie.
He grinned over my shoulder. “Oh, hey Sam. Glad you could finally make it.”
I spun around as if I’d been caught sniffing Sam’s underwear. His cheeks were as red as mine felt. “Hey, Coop. Whatchya talking about?”
Cooper added black buttons to his cookie, but he used too much frosting, so the buttons globbed together, making a giant black hole in the middle of Santa’s chest. “Just how glad we all are that the prodigal Balls has returned home.”
Sam sat in the chair next to me. He smelled like the crisp outside, like spiced oranges, like something familiar and homey and perfect. “We are glad you’re home, Holly,” he murmured in a low voice. “Everything’s better with you here.”
Glancing at him quickly, I willed my cheeks to stop burning. Deciding the subject needed changing quickly, I started adding white to my cookie candy cane. “Uh, the secretary at the school seems to have it bad for you, Cooper. Every time I see her, she finds a way to bring you up.”
He shoved his zombie Santa away and reached for a cookie shaped like a bell. “Who? Monika?”
Sam snorted.
“Yeah, Monika. She must be new to Mistletoe?”
“Yeah, her family moved here her senior year of high school. You were already gone.” Cooper was staring intently at his cookie. “She’s, erm, nice.”
Sam chuckled again.
“Okay, I need to know the details.” I turned to face Sam, ignoring Cooper’s rising protests. “What happened?”
Sam side-eyed Cooper before saying, “She asked Coop out on a date, but he was too chicken shit to say yes.” At Cooper’s vehement protest, Sam quickly added, “To be fair, I think he wasblindsided by the entire thing. She’s seven years younger than us.”
“She is sort of a baby,” I agreed.
“A hot baby,” Cooper muttered to his frosting abomination.
“Gross,” I scolded, unable to hide my laughter.
“She’s very forward,” Cooper said as if that explained his reluctance.
This drew an eye roll from me. “God forbid a girl know what she wants.”
Cooper’s eyes snapped to mine, his gaze accusing, sharp. “That’s an interesting opinion coming from you, Balls.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” My cheeks were hot again.
“Oh, nothing. I just don’t think you like girls who go after what they want. I think you prefer indecision and waffling.”
“Cooper, what?” I was glaring now, trying to start his cookie on fire just by scowling at it. “That’s incredibly rude.”
“Is it rude? Or is it the truth?”
