Page 48 of The Mistletoe Mix-up

“He probably is just disappointed that you keep dipping out on family lunch,” Luke said, invested in a detergent commercial.

“Please, the man barely acts like he wants me around when I’m here.”

Luke shrugged. “Just because he’s quietly enjoying Sunday football doesn’t mean he doesn’t want you here.”

“Fine,” Wren muttered, guilt weighing out over comfort. “I’ll stick around until the game starts, and then I’m bouncing. And if the two of you say anything . . .”

Her dad walked into the room, so she had to settle on a gesture of sliding her finger across her throat and mouthing, Dead.

Neither one of her brothers seemed intimidated.

“Before the commercials are over,” Robert said, taking his seat, “is there something going on I should know about?”

“What do you mean?” Wren asked, hating his pensive expression, as if he were already working out what he missed without her confession.

“Your brothers seem to be giving you a rash of shit. Something you want to share?”

“No, Dad. There’s nothing going on with me.” She ignored her brothers’ expressions and picked up a potato chip, popping it into her mouth. “Nothing at all.”

“I just don’t know how we got here.” Wren sat on her friend Millie Hammond’s couch with a pint of ice cream in one hand and a spoon in the other, which she pointed at her friend. “Hooking up with no strings should be every man’s wet dream, right?”

“Most guys would be happy,” Millie agreed.

“Right? So, why is he all butt hurt?” Wren had gotten a text from Sam at her dad’s place about her ducking out on him becoming a pattern, which it was, but that was what was expected from a casual hookup. Between Sam’s pouting and her father’s cool attitude toward her, she was ready to throw hands.

“He is supposed to be this big flirt with all these lady friends,” Wren ranted, stabbing her ice cream with gusto, “but he acts like I’m the weirdo because I don’t want to be boyfriend and girlfriend like we’re kids again.”

Millie sat across from her on the love seat with her feet tucked up under her. Her dark curly hair was thrown up into a bun on top of her head, and her glasses perched on the end of her nose pertly. They had been friends in high school, and when Wren left, they’d kept in touch over the years, meeting up for girls’ trips and talking on the phone every chance they got. When they were finally back in Mistletoe together, they’d picked up their friendship as if they had never been separated.

“Oh, is it my turn to speak? Because you’ve been ranting for a full twenty minutes, and I wasn’t sure.”

“Ha ha, yes, please, speak,” Wren said.

Millie shrugged. “Maybe he’s changed?”

“In a week?” Wren protested around a mouthful of ice cream. “Come on!”

“Could be a game. Maybe he likes to chase girls until they fall for him, then dump them when he knows that he can catch them.”

“Why would he play games, especially one like that?” Wren grumbled.

Millie threw her hands up in the air. “Who knows?”

“All I know is that something happened between us, and it was magical and electric.” Wren knew thinking about being with Sam was a bad idea, especially when it made her want to give in and see him again. “It could be the start of a long run of the two of us getting our rocks off together, but he wants to ruin it by having feelings.”

Millie laughed. “You sound like a total guy right now.”

“Well, I wish he was acting like a total guy right now,” Wren griped, devouring another bite of ice cream.

Millie watched her thoughtfully, tapping the end of her spoon against her full lips before she finally asked, “Would you rather have some jerk trying to mansplain things to you or a sensitive guy who wants to spend time with you?”

“I don’t want either. I’m going to stick to my vibrator from now on because it doesn’t talk back.”

“Then just avoid him. He’ll get over it and move on.” Millie smiled sweetly. “It’s not as if he doesn’t have options.”

“Thanks for that,” Wren said sarcastically, looking around Millie’s bright and cheery home, which was full of paintings of landscapes with rainbows and vibrant throw blankets and wall-to-wall bookshelves. Her house screamed librarian, which was what Millie was. She worked as the librarian at the middle school, and she loved it. She was even dating the school’s science teacher, although she shared with Wren that she had the biggest crush on the PE teacher, Matt. Wren had teased her about a possible “why choose” romance brewing at the middle school, and Millie had rolled her eyes and informed her that that kind of thing didn’t happen outside of books.

Millie pointed her spoon, wagging it like a finger at Wren. “I’m just saying that this town has very few studs, and Sam is one of them, but it sounds like he really likes you.”