Page 11 of How My Neighbour Stole Christmas
This is exactly what I’m talking about.
She gets under my skin, and she knows exactly how to do it.
It’s been like that ever since I met her during her first visit to Kringle. We were both eight at the time. Cindy thought it would be nice for us to build a snowman together since we were the same age. Storee wanted to do it her way because she thought she knew best—the girl fromCalifornia—and I wanted to do it the correct way based on my experiencelivingin snow, and we bickered.
We fought.
And it’s never stopped.
Sure…there were moments when we didn’t bicker and fight. Moments when we’d talk on my front porch about everything and nothing. Quiet, subdued, real moments when I got to know her on a deeper level, but whenever we got back together, the fighting always started again.
Without fail.
“That’s what I thought, Connor.” She turns back to the menu.
“It’s Cole,” I say through clenched teeth.
“Oh right, Cole.” She offers me a grin. Then with her wandering eyes, she gives me a sparse once-over, taking in my muddy work boots, worn jeans, and black-and-navy flannel shirt before meeting my eyes again. “Cole…the neighbor, right?”
“You know exactly who I am—don’t play with me, Storee.”
“Grumpy as usual, I see,” she says with a smirk. And that smirk says it all. She’s fucking with me. She knew damn well who I was the whole time. “Although you are taller now.”
Trying not to show my frustration, I say, “That’s what happens when you grow.”
“You have…broader shoulders.” She motions to my chest. “More muscles.” Okay, so she’s just going to say whatever’s on her mind?
“Yup, when you work on a farm, you tend to gain muscles.”
She leans in an inch, studying my face. “And facial hair.”
“A given, since I’m in my late twenties and live in a colder climate,” I reply.
She slowly nods. “Well, congratulations on growing up.”
“Thanks. Congratulations on maintaining your habit of being massively annoying.”
Her mouth parts in shock. “Well, that was rude. I complimented you on your muscles that were not there five years ago—”
“Ten,” I correct her.
“Whatever, ten. And then you say I’m annoying. How is that being welcoming?”
“Wasn’t trying to be welcoming,” I say.
“What about neighborly?” she asks as we take a step forward in line.
“Wasn’t trying to be neighborly either.”
“Well, you should,” she replies. “I’m going to be here for a while, and I think it would be best if we could live harmoniously—don’t you?”
“We’re not living in the same house, so I have no need to interact with you.”
“Sheesh,” she says, her hand landing on her hip. “I know I pretended to get your name wrong, but there’s no need to be so rude. Remember…I complimented your muscles.”
I roll my eyes. “Do you really think I’m that vain?”
“No,” she says. “But I thought it would butter you up after I called you Connor.” She winks.
