Her mouth twists, pain flashes in her eyes. She shakes her head once. “Please don’t.”
“But—”
She leans over and attacks the paper with quick, furious cuts. “I’m gonna beat you.”
I watch her for a moment longer, then pick up my scissors. I win, of course. But mine looks like I wadded up some wrapping paper and plastered it in tape. Her gift looks like it’s been professionally wrapped.
The irony is, she was wrapping Grant’s present.
When she finishes, she starts gathering scraps of wrapping paper.
“Do you want to hang out up here?” I ask.
She turns to me, pale and stricken. “Okay.”
My breath catches. No! That’s not what I meant.
“It was a question, Finley,” I say, surprised when it sounds pleading. “I’m not telling you to stay up here. I just don’t want you to feel any more uncomfortable than you already are.”
Her eyes glisten, and she says in a shaky voice, “In light of the current situation, I realize that I’m no longer needed here. I think I should go home tomorrow.”
The words gut me because she’s right—she doesn’t have to be here anymore for my little stick-it-to-Grant charade, but the thought of her leaving fills me with panic.
“You don’t have to go,” I try to sound casual. “I mean, Grant and Eloise have broken up more times than I can count. Chances are, she’ll show up in a day or two, and if you go, then I’ll be kicked out.”
Her response is a tight smile.
“Do you want to go?” I ask, then realize it sounds like a passive aggressive way to tell her to go. “For what it’s worth, I want you to stay.”
Her eyes widen slightly, then she gives me a grim smile. “Because Eloise might come.”
Is that why I want her to stay? The excuse is safer than examining the truth. “Yeah,” I say with a casual shrug, then add, “But I understand if you want to leave. I never expected Grant to come at you like that. But I can promise you that Mom won’t let it happen again.”
Her mouth twists as fresh tears flood her eyes. “I really don’t want to cause drama with your family.”
“You’re not,” I say, a sliver of guilt oozing in my chest. She’s not the cause of this drama—that responsibility falls squarely on me. “Mom and Mallory love you and they’d be crushed if you leave. Especially on Christmas Day.” I take a breath, and lower my voice, hoping I come across as reassuring. “But I want you to do what you want to do, Finley. If it’s too uncomfortable to stay, I’ll book the next available flight out of here, but I know Mom and Mal want you to stay.” My throat tightens. “And I want you to stay too.”
Her gaze drops to the mess on the floor. “In case Eloise shows up,” she murmurs.
That’s not why but I’m not sure she’d stay for just me. Especially if she knows how I really feel about her. So the Eloise excuse is as good as any.
“I’m going to take the presents down and put them under the tree,” I say. “And you can decide what you want to do when I’m done, okay?”
“Yeah.” She returns to her task of cleaning up the bits of paper. “Sounds good.”
I gather the pile of gifts and leave the room. My hands are full, so I leave the door open behind me and head down the front staircase. After stacking the gifts under the tree, I head into the kitchen and find my family gathered around the island.
“What the hell was that?” I snap at Grant. “How dare you talk to my girlfriend like that?”
“How dare you magically come up with a girlfriend in two days,” he shoots back, just as hot.
Mom exhales sharply, and her eyes sink closed.
“Grant.” Dad’s voice cuts like steel. “You will apologize to Finley the moment you see her.”
Grant’s jaw sets, but he stays silent.
“Is Finley still upstairs?” Mallory’s wearing her worried face and wringing her hands.
