Page 12 of Mistletoe Mischief

Alia hung in the aisle, closing the distance between their faces. “It’s not the hangover. It’s your voice grating on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard.”

“My voice is grating?” Neil growled. Ryler leaned back as far as she could, Neil practically lying across her lap as he added, “Your voice is like a mermaid out of the water; high-pitched and painful!”

“I have no idea what you’re saying! Mermaids have beautiful voices.”

“Not according to Harry Potter! They’re ugly, horrible creatures that screech outside of the water depths.”

“Listen, nerd”—she punctuated the insult by pointing her finger—“just because you read a bunch of books does not make you smart!”

“Says the woman who thought Jane Austen was a clothing designer! Maybe if you actually cracked a book open, people would take you seriously.”

“If people is you, I’d rather watch Love Island than read some boring, pretentious…”Alia kept ranting, the two of them were nose to nose, and Ryler could hear their harsh breathing in the quiet of the airplane. This was extreme behavior, even for the two of them. Although Neil and Alia hadn’t always gotten along, it was mostly veiled insults, snark, and sarcasm. This was like something out of a sitcom, just before two characters started kissing and ripping each other’s clothes off.

Ryler burst out laughing at the thought. Hell would freeze over after an asteroid hit Earth before Neil and Alia touched each other. Unless it was a prize fight where they got to hit each other.

“What’s funny?” Alia asked.

Ryler was about to answer, but she saw the flight attendant peek around the corner and start toward them. Ryler put her hand in front of Neil’s face, pushing him back into his seat. “You two look ridiculous. Enough of this.”

“Is there a problem?” the flight attendant asked, glancing between Alia, who had buckled herself back into her seat, and Neil, who was removing Ryler’s hand from his face.

“Yes, they were just in a heated debate about which comeback is superior, Backstreet vs ’NSYNC. Your thoughts?”

She gave Ryler a puzzled expression. “Uh, Backstreet.”

“Not who I would have guessed, but good choice,” Ryler said, smiling.

“Do you require anything?” she asked.

“No, we’re good. Thanks.” The woman walked away, and Ryler muttered, “Obviously not a pop culture fan.”

“The next time you put your hand in my face, I’m going to bite you,” Neil grumbled.

“Watch out, Ryls!” Alia sniped. “He probably has rabies.”

“You know what—” Neil started to get out of his seat, and Ryler poked him in his ribs. He convulsed and fell back into his seat with a gasp. “Did you just tickle me into submission?”

“Yes, I did. The two of you have been going at it for weeks, way worse than normal, and it needs to stop. What is wrong with you?”

Neither one of them said much, and Ryler shook her head, addressing Neil, “Stop calling her Medusa.”

“It’s not like she knows who it is,” Neil muttered.

“Actually, she’s a mythological creature who was once a beautiful maiden until a jealous goddess cursed her with snakes for hair.” Ryler snorted at Neil’s slack-jawed expression, while Alia sniffed. “What? It’s like you’ve never heard of Google.”

Alia snapped her mask back into place and replaced her AirPods in her ears. Ryler turned to Neil, who had recovered from his initial shock.

“Do you want to explain what is going on with you and my cousin?”

“There’s nothing going on,” Neil said, opening up the sliding cover over the window, turning his back on her to look out into the darkness. “It’s the same mutual loathing we’ve always had. We’re just more vocal about it now.”

“Uh-huh,” Ryler said, looking at her phone screen once more. “Whatever you say.”

Neil closed the window with a thwack. “What are you insinuating?”

“I’m just wondering if there is a bit of repressed lusting going on neither one of you wants to admit to,” Ryler teased.

Neil’s gaze flicked beyond her to Alia, then back to Ryler. “Nope.”