Page 61 of Terms and Traditions

I’ve been put through the initiation rites and run the gauntlet.

EMMETT

No guts, no glory.

RYAN

And things are good with Stephanie?

NASH

Yup.

RYAN

Yup? That’s all we get?

EMMETT

You aren’t the nonverbose friend in this trio. I have the monopoly on that role. Talk.

NASH

Later. Gotta run for the night. Merry Christmas, guys.

RYAN

Gotta get that good-night kiss from his lady love.

EMMETT

Dude. Shut up.

Nash, you can run, but you can’t hide.

RYAN

Love you, bros. Merry Christmas.

Chapter twenty-seven

Stephanie

“Merry Christmas, Steph!”

I groaned, pulling the quilt over my head as Hailey’s chipper voice cut through the haze of sugarplum dreams. “Go away,” I mumbled, burrowing deeper into the nest of blankets.

She plopped down on the edge of the bed, making it dip. “There’s a handsome man at the door with a special delivery.”

“I will not be bribed,” I muttered, flailing a hand out and giving her a shove.

“Don’t keep the man waiting—Oof!” She thudded to the ground. “You’ve been working out.”

I grunted, ignoring her. Hailey was worse than my nieces and nephews when it came to being bright-eyed and bushy-tailed on Christmas morning. Few Addams relatives were morning people. She’d evidently picked up the bad habit from her dad’s side of the family—the Bishops.

There was a light tap on the door, then the voice from my dreams entered my sleepy reality. “Steph, I brought something that might help.”

I ran a hand over my face, shoving my messy curls aside as I sat up. Dizziness rattled my brain, and black splotches danced across my vision. Slow down.