Page 11 of 10 Things I Hate About Mistletoe

“I know, but even if Declan is out of town, I should probably still call or text before I come over.”

Holly rubbed her chin as if deep in thought before wagging her finger at Delilah, speaking in what Delilah could only imagine was an impression of Robert De Niro. “You. You. This is why I keep you around. You’re so smart.”

“Shut up,” Delilah said, fighting a smile as she straightened up. “That shouldn’t count as your fix since I’m the one who suggested it.”

“Fair enough.” Holly held out the golden bottle of wine with a grin. “I feel like we need to open up this bottle of thinking juice for the rest of it.”

“Drinking is probably counterproductive to rational thought.”

“Tell that to Hemingway. He was sotted most of his life and wrote the most beautiful books.”

“Maybe that’s what I’m missing,” Delilah said, tapping her finger to the side of her head as if she’d just come up with a brilliant idea. “A touch of alcoholism.”

“Let’s not go drowning our sorrows just yet.” Holly pulled out the corkscrew and slammed the drawer shut. “What came after the rejection?”

Delilah sighed. “I bumped into Pike and Anthony at Kiss My Donut this morning.”

“Why is that a bad thing?” Holly asked.

“Anthony talked to me.”

“No,” Holly gasped sarcastically, popping the cork out of the bottle. “The nerve of that jerk.”

“I’m serious. He said he liked my shirt.”

“Which shirt?” Holly asked, turning her back on Delilah to grab two glasses from the cupboard.

“My I Heart Boobies shirt. He looked at it and said he liked boobies, too!”

Holly tried to keep a straight face. “That’s probably true.”

Delilah glared at her. “Not funny.”

“Why does he bother you so much?” Holly filled each glass half full and recorked the bottle. “Is this about the party last year?”

While she loved Holly, Delilah hadn’t told her everything that had gone down with Anthony for many reasons, but mostly because she was embarrassed. She’d gone upstairs with Anthony and a liquor bottle because he’d been nice to her. Saying the words out loud made her feel a little desperate but that was not the case.

“It bothers me because I thought he might like me,” Delilah said softly, tucking a hair behind her ear. “So I invited him upstairs to my room.”

“You told me that part,” Holly said, handing a glass to Delilah. “But I suspect there’s more.”

“We had a few shots of Fireball and then … I kissed him.”

Holly’s jaw dropped open. “You kissed Anthony last December and didn’t tell me?”

“Because it wasn’t a big deal! It meant nothing!”

Holly gave her a skeptical look over the rim of her wineglass. “If it meant nothing, why are you holding a grudge?”

“I kissed him, and he whispered my name—”

“Still not following.”

“And immediately bailed.” Delilah snapped her fingers. “Like he was picturing someone else while kissing me and realized his mistake when he opened his eyes.”

“Are you sure that’s what happened?” Holly asked. “I’ve known Anthony forever, and he isn’t a jerk.”

Delilah sighed. “It doesn’t matter. You’re right, though. I should stop holding a grudge. Honestly, I should thank him. That kiss proved that I am missing something in my life.”