Page 8 of Jingle All the Plays

My cheeks heat the second I realize what he’s talking about. “Oh my God, Bo. I’m talking about your ego.” And to prove my point—and also leave no room for double meanings—I stretch my hands as far as they’ll go. “It’s huge.”

He chuckles. “Ya, it is.” Then he gives me a wink and snatches his toque from my hands.

“You. Are. The. Worst.” I get up on my skis. “I’m leaving you behind.”

“Don’t you dare, Maisy. I’m serious.”

I wouldn’t have left him. It actually felt pretty damn good to have him protect me from that moose earlier. I wasn’t even torn in the moment, I knew instinctively I could trust him. Despite what he did to me last Christmas.

And even though I wouldn’t have made good on that threat, I fold my arms across my chest for a posturing effect.

“Don’t even start with me, Maisy.” He gets up on wobbly feet, and is about to go down again, when I pizza step toward him.

Once I get my skis straight, I put out my hand. “C’mon, baby.”

“Oooh, I don’t remember the last time you called me that, JJ.”

“Oh my gosh, you’re not going to start calling me that again.”

“What? You’re giving me nicknames, I’m just reverting back to the one I used to call you. You still crochet, right? J’s still your favorite hooker?”

“Hook, Bo. It’s called a hook.”

He just winks. “And you’re my favorite hooker.” It shouldn’t, but just like it’s always done before, it melts my heart when he says that. He sees my ninety-year old soul and likes it. Always has. It’s almost my undoing. But then I remember what he did to me.

“Oh my God. Where’s the remorseful, guilt-laden pup with his tail between his legs from earlier today?”

He squeezes my hand and gives it a small tug. “Maisy.”

Fuck. I can hear the seriousness in his tone already. I guess we’re going there.

“What?” I say as aggressively as I can, but it’s definitely more of a hurt whisper.

“I’m so fucking sorry.”

And I hate that I’m about to cry. I’m going to hate each tear that falls, too, because they’re all traitors. Enemies of the state, I tell you.

“Please, Maisy. You have to forgive me. I was such an asshole. I can’t even believe I did that.”

“You were drunk.”

“It doesn’t fucking matter,” he growls. “I hate myself for what I did to you that night. Please. Say you’ll forgive me.”

I blink so hard I think I’m going to black out, but I just do not want to cry right now.

But then his ungloved hand is swiping something wet off my cheek.

“I’m not crying,” I sniff.

“I know. It’s just a snowflake.” It’s not. “I’m sorry I’m making you not cry. And I’m sorry I hurt you,” he whispers.

I just nod because I have no words to say. He was my biggest crush for years. I thought I loved him but just couldn’t be with him because of the timing. Because life. Because me. Because I’m not enough for him. And then he broke my heart before I even had a chance to really give it to him. And now…I just don’t know if I can forgive him.

Chapter 7

Bo

“I aced that second question card. Just so you know.” Feeling pretty good right now. Even though I know she’s feeling vulnerable, that’s a step in the right direction for us.