Page 23 of 10 Things I Hate About Mistletoe

“I get that, but I can come with you if you need—”

“No!” he said, coming off more rushed then he meant to be. He took a slow, even breath and smiled. “I’ll be fine. I’m just going to read a book and go to bed.”

Pike watched him for several ticks silently, “You’re acting twitchy.”

Shit, he thought he was doing a better job of hiding it.

“What?” Anthony asked. “Why would you say that?”

“You’re shifting your feet like you can’t wait to bolt,” Pike said, pointing at the ground.

“I told you. I want to go home and relax. It’s been a long week,” Anthony said, impatiently glancing toward his truck.

“Fine, go.” Pike shook his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, bro.”

“See you.”

Pike gave him a disgruntled look and headed back into the bar. The minute he disappeared, Anthony booked it for his truck. The dark tint obscured the view inside, but when he opened the door, he found Delilah wrapped in his blanket.

“Clothes didn’t work?” Anthony would never say it out loud but he had been looking forward to seeing her wearing his T-shirt and sweats.

“I didn’t even try. I didn’t want to get your clothes all nasty.” She held up the edge of the blanket without exposing anything important. “This will be easy enough to wash.”

“Holly came by with your stuff?” he asked.

Delilah pointed to her little purse. “She did and only snickered a small amount.”

Anthony grinned. “It could be a funny story you tell your children someday.”

“No, I don’t think it’s appropriate to tell my children about the time a drunk guy told me I was pretty and puked all over me.”

Anthony laughed, putting the truck in reverse. “On a happy note, the smell isn’t bad.”

“Open the trash bag in the back seat and say that again.”

“I don’t think I will.” He pulled the lever down to drive and headed toward the exit. The nighttime scenery whizzed by as he pulled out of the parking lot, along the main road; the silence thick and heavy in the dark cab.

Searching for a segue to jump-start the conversation, he finally asked, “Do you think we could forget about my blowup on the patio?”

Anthony saw her turn his way out of the corner of his eye. “You offered to let me wear your clothes, knowing I was covered in vomit. I think I can let it go.” She cleared her throat, and he glanced her way briefly, “If I can ask you something personal?”

“Uncomfortable personal?” he asked.

“It depends on how close you keep things to the vest.”

A few seconds ticked by as he considered and eventually shrugged. “Shoot.”

“Why didn’t your brother have your new number?”

Anthony grimaced. Of course, she would latch on to the awkward encounter with his brother and wonder about his fucked up family situation. He didn’t hang with anyone outside his friend group, and they all knew why he didn’t talk to his father and brothers.

He almost didn’t answer, but Anthony decided he had nothing to hide. “I guess because I didn’t think to reach out and let him know.”

“I have additional questions now,” Delilah said, chuckling, “but I’ll let it go because you clearly don’t want to get into it.”

“I don’t discuss my relationship with my brothers with anyone,” Anthony said, his tone harsher than he meant it to.

“You have brothers, plural?” she asked.