Page 12 of 10 Things I Hate About Mistletoe

“Whiskey-fueled make-out sessions with strange men?” Holly joked.

“Close, but nope.” Delilah took a sip, humming as the sweet wine swept over her tongue and down her throat. “I am missing passion with a man who knows how to kiss. You know what I attract? Men who think the clitoris doesn’t exist.”

Holly choked on her wine, coughing laughter erupting from her. “Um, didn’t they take health class?”

“Their parents probably opted them out of it to protect their precious sons from learning how to pleasure a woman!” Delilah yelled the last part, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She was sick of disappointing sex and something had to change.

Holly put her hand on Delilah’s shoulder, her eyebrow arched. “Do we need to make a calming circle?”

“With just the two of us, it would be more like a square, but no, I’m good. Got all that pent-up rage expelled from my body, and now it is time to act.” Delilah removed her glasses and tossed them onto the counter. “I am going to find a man whose kisses makes the ground shake beneath my feet.”

“Not without your glasses, dork.” Holly picked up the black frames and handed them to her.

“It was a metaphor. The girl removes her glasses in the movie, and the audience realizes she has always been gorgeous.” Holly opened her mouth and Delilah held her hand up, placing her glasses onto her face. “Don’t say I’m beautiful because I know that. However, I am not giving off the vibe that attracts men who are fantastic in bed! I know I’m a rock star in the sack. I could become a plus-size stripper as a side hustle and bring men to their knees before me.”

“Really?” Holly hopped up on the counter without spilling her wine and waved a hand at her. “I gotta see this. Dance for me. Time to collect those dollar bills.”

Delilah bit back a smile as she set her wineglass down and dropped her snuggy on the floor, revealing gray lounge pants and blue tank top. “Give me a beat!”

Holly laughed but pulled her phone out of her pocket, tapping the screen. While Britney Spears crooned “I’m a Slave 4 U,” Delilah took several steps forward, shaking her hips and shimmying. When she reached the cupboard, Delilah held on to the knob and spun out as she opened it before dropping into a squat and hopping across the floor. Holly bent over the counter screaming with laughter, and Delilah lost her balance when Leia jumped on her, knocking her into the cabinets. Delilah rolled on the floor, avoiding Leia’s darting tongue.

“See! I got this!”

“If I had a fistful of dollar bills, they would be yours!” Holly said, clapping.

“Leia, I’m fine. Off, love.” The tan and white dog sat back, her bat ears perked. Delilah climbed to her feet less than gracefully and hobbled to where she’d set her wineglass. She picked it up, wincing at the sharp pain in her derriere. “I think I pulled something in my butt.”

“Uh oh! Is it a career-ending injury?” Holly asked between laughter.

“I’m afraid so.”

“I don’t think you need to change your appearance to find a man with bedroom skills,” Holly said, downing the rest of her wine. “I also remember saying something about not needing a man to make me happy.”

Delilah chuckled. “Uh-huh. Should I mention that philosophy to Declan?”

“I was already happy,” Holly said, grinning cheekily. “He’s just a bonus prize.”

“Like the ring at the bottom of the cereal box?” Delilah teased.

“Exactly.” Holly set her glass down before jumping off the counter. “Now, for our manhunt. Sometimes, the quiet ones surprise you.” Holly tapped a finger to her chin before she snapped her fingers with a, “Ha! What about that science teacher at the middle school you dated earlier this year?”

Delilah winced. “Tom is nice, but … ” She searched for another way to describe him, only what popped out was “bland.”

Holly grimaced. “Bland is not good.” She turned to face Delilah once more, gripping the side of the counter behind her. “What about Fletcher Nielsen? He is back in town, and you always thought he was cute.”

“Holly,” Delilah said with a heavy sigh. “I appreciate you advocating for me not to change, but what if I want to?”

Holly crossed the room and hugged her. “Whatever makes you happy makes me happy. I don’t want you ever to think you aren’t good enough for love just how you are.”

“I know that, bestie.” Delilah wasn’t surprised Holly had reservations about Delilah changing who she was.

Holly had been there in middle school when Delilah saved up her money and bought a pair of the distressed skinny jeans everyone was wearing. They’d dug into her stomach when she sat down, and after a long day of suffering for fashion, one of the popular girls had dropped a nasty note onto her desk, with multiple handwriting. It turned out to be a group note, with dozens of people talking trash about her. They’d spent the day making fun of how she looked, and it had taken everything in her to hold back the tears.

It wasn’t until Delilah pulled off the jeans that night and saw how her thighs had been rubbed raw from chafing that she let the tears fall.

She’d faked a stomach ache the next day, and her mom let her stay home, curled up in bed watching Drop Dead Diva. When she tried to fake sick again the following morning, her mom shook her head and told Delilah to shower. Instead of taking her to school, they’d headed to Boise for the weekend. They’d gone to dinner, and after some gentle prodding, Delilah broke down and told her what had happened.

“Lilah, honey, do you like those girls?” her mother asked.