Page 45 of Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree
“Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to talk with your mouth full?”
“No, but yours did.” He smirks.
He’s right. It was a phrase she said often around the five of us anytime we hung out at my house.
I sigh as guilt swamps me. I punched one of my best friends—one of my brothers—before stopping to ask questions.
“Fuck, Mi, I’m—”
“Forget it.” He waves away my apology before I can get it all the way out. “Already forgotten, bro.”
I reach out a hand, and he clasps it, yanking me into a bruising hug. Fucker is strong from hours spent with his drums.
“Aww,” Chris and Finn chime in from around us, and both Milo and I flip them the bird.
“Now that that’s settled, we need a plan,” Milo says, pulling away.
“A plan?”
“We’re gonna win you back your girl, Andrews.”
“What about you?” I ask.
He shrugs. “You first.”
CHAPTER 12
LILAH
My phone vibrates in my lap.
Mother.
Probably wondering where I am since her last edict, the one that came two days ago, was for me to arrive for Christmas Eve festivities promptly at three. And it’s now 3:03, according to the digital readout on my lock screen.
Heaving a massive sigh, I accept the call.
“Hello?”
“Are you on your way?”
No hello back, no other greeting. Straight to the point, with a tone full of disappointment.
“No.”
“No?”
How many people dare tell herno?
“I never said I was coming.”
She’s silent. Probably working on her gaslighting technique. Contemplating which way she can convince me that Ididagree.
“Everyone is expecting you to be here,” she finally says.
Of course. Because image is everything.
“I’m not.”
