Page 128 of How My Neighbour Stole Christmas
“Cole, if you’re coming to me for a Christmas tree, there’s a lot to talk about. So why don’t we hike out to the field, find you a nice pine, and you tell me what the hell is going on.”
Normally, I’d just keep something like this to myself, but I want a tree and he has the axe. Therefore, I guess it’s time to have that conversation.
But where to start?
Thankfully, Max starts. “So last you told me, things had changed and you were looking at her differently. Care to fill in the blanks?”
I lead the way, and Max falls in line. The trail to the trees is shoveled as much as it can be—the team is constantly laying dirt down to help with slipping, but it just turns into mud. It’s why we always suggest wearing boots or shoes you don’t mind getting dirty while visiting. And thanks to the fresh flurries from yesterday, the untouched pinesthat surround the farm are covered in snow, the wind blowing up puffs of it every so often.
“It was sort of a mature conversation that I wasn’t expecting,” I say. “We talked about how we felt when we were younger, how we feel now, and, well…” I pause, knowing Max is going to freak out. “We made out on the porch.”
Just as expected, a stunned Max turns, slaps his hand to my chest in shock, and grips my shirt.
“You made out?” he yells, drawing attention from other groups traipsing across the farm.
We casually smile and wave to the visitors, thankful no one from Kringle is around.
“Dude, can you keep it down?” I hiss. “Fuck.”
“I’m sorry—I’m just surprised. I wasn’t expecting you to say you made out with Storee, the girl who, a few weeks ago, you were hell-bent on putting in her place.”
“I wasn’t expecting it either,” I say honestly as we continue out toward the grove. “But I was out on the porch, staring up at the sky, texting you, and she came over with hot cocoa. We talked and…she moved onto my lap and started kissing me.”
“Moved onto your lap? Nice. So she made the first move?”
“I think so. I mean, it wasn’t like I was being shy about what I wanted.”
“Look at you, Snow Daddy taking what he wants.”
We stroll around the bend that takes us toward the front of the pine grove where many trees have already been cut down for the holiday season. But there are still a lot left.
“I didn’t take what I wanted, I just…fuck, I broke, man. Seeing her tears, airing my grievances, and then spending some time with her, it kind of felt like if I didn’t kiss her, I was going to lose my mind.”
“Which is different for you.”
“Very different,” I agree.
“So what does this mean? Are we still trying to win the Christmas Kringle? Are we still enemies? Are we trying to show her who the king of this town is?”
“I mean…she playfully said at the end of the night that she was still going to beat me, but I also think we don’t have to worry about her tampering with our lights again.”
“Ah, so a solid competition but a fair one.”
“That’s what I’m assuming,” I say. “And we have to keep arguing in front of her sister, because apparently Taran would get mad if she knew Storee and I were friendly. But then there’s the town who thinks we’re possibly dating, so we get to be open about our feelings in front of the town—but not in front of Taran. I don’t know…feels complicated.”
“Feels like reverse fake dating if you ask me,” Max says. “And I’m interested to see how this plays out.”
“Glad you’re invested.” I chuckle but then grow serious. “This whole thing makes me nervous.”
“What? The reverse fake dating? Dude, just pretend you hate her in front of her sister—”
“No, not that,” I say. “Letting myself feel anything for her.”
“Why? Do you think she’s playing you?”
I pause for a moment, letting that question sink in. Playing me, as in being friendly to throw me off and win the competition? I mean…I don’t think so. Not after the conversation we had last night. Not after that kiss.
She wouldn’t play me.
