Page 73 of Tempting the Player
Heat crawled up her neck. Goodness, he could be astute at times. “No. It…just is. Anyway, that’s all I came by for, but I really need to get going. Um, thanks for the Chinese. Rain check on that?”
“Wait.” He pushed off the wall, coming at her. “What time do you want me to pick you up tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow?” she repeated, searching her memory for plans. “Tomorrow is Christmas Eve…?”
A quirky grin appeared. “Yeah, and I always spend it with Maddie’s family, along with my brothers.”
Oh, Madison’s family Christmas celebration. She’d managed to avoid that like the plague the last couple of years.
“You’re going with me, right?” he said after a few moments, clearly choosing to ignore the fact she’d already shot his offer down once before.
Bridget pursed her lips. “Christmas Eve dinners are not my thing.”
“Well, it’s not really traditional. Actually it’s the opposite of traditional. Mostly it’s just drinking and snacking and watching Chase get drunk and make a fool out of himself.”
“As fun as that sounds, I’m going to have to pass.” She started backing toward the door. “But I hope you have a good time.”
“Hold on.” He put his hand on the door, stopping her. “What’s your deal? I’m cool with the Gala thing and I’ll take the rain check on the Chinese, so would it kill you to go to this with me?”
“Yes,” she snapped, reaching for the door handle. “Chad, come on. Open the door.”
“You know, sometimes I think I get you and then I realize I don’t have a freaking clue. You like Maddie and Chase, so it shouldn’t be a big deal.” He removed his hand from the door and thrust it through his hair. “It’s like you don’t want to…I don’t know, open yourself up.”
“Open myself up?”
Chad frowned. “Yeah.”
Bridget didn’t know what made the words come out of her mouth. The holidays always had her on edge and mix in all of this with Chad and the Gala, her patience and filter were nonexistent. “Why do you want me to go with you, Chad? Why would you want me to open myself up to you? It’s not like we’re really dating, and the last thing we should be doing is spending the holidays together or getting deep and meaningful with each other when it’s going to be all over soon anyway.”
“Whoa. Wow.” Chad reached around her, opening the door so she could dip under his arm. “That’s fine. Wouldn’t want to get all deep and meaningful, Bridget. You’re right. This’ll be over in days. Why bother?”
She blanched. “Exactly.”
“Whatever. Have a nice Christmas, Bridget.” And then he closed the door. He didn’t even slam it, which seemed worse somehow.
Chapter Eighteen
The Daniels’ house looked like Christmas got drunk and threw up on it.
There was a blowup Santa, one of those weird ones that reminded Chad of Bubble Boy, in the front yard. Wire reindeer glimmered in the night, flashing white and then red. On the roof was another Santa, perched near the chimney. There was a blowup sleigh on the other patch of frozen grass. Christmas lights in every color imaginable hung from the roof and circled the porch railing. A backlit Frosty the Snowman was waving at him. Creepy. On the porch was Frank E. Post, which kicked on and started singing “Have a Swinging Christmas” when Chad came within a few feet of it.
“Whoa,” he said, stepping around that thing.
Before he knocked on the door, he shook out his shoulders, trying to lose the pissy attitude he’d been rocking since yesterday courtesy of Bridget. How foolish did he look getting all…considerate and shit by ordering her favorite food and then assuming she’d want to spend Christmas Eve with him?
He should’ve known better. They were faking this whole dating thing. He just hadn’t thought about that when she’d texted him. Little did he know she was coming over to ask him not to go to the Gala with her.
Whatever. He wasn’t going to let this crap with Bridget ruin the one night a year he was actually surrounded by family.
His brother answered the door, decked out in a sweater that had Chad laughing so hard he was afraid he was going to drop the gifts he’d brought. Bright green with a knitted jolly Saint Nick, holding a sign that read: Even Santa is prepared 4 Armageddon. R U? Merry Christmas!
“If you say one word,” Chase said, holding open the door, “I will kick your ass.”
Maddie’s father popped out and gave a huge wave. He wore the same sweater. “Hey there, all-star!”
Chad struggled to get the smile off his face. “I won’t say a word.”
“I bet.” Chase took one of the bags from him and then frowned. “Where’s Bridget?”
