Page 52 of The Mistletoe Mix-up

The minute Millie opened her door, Wren blurted, “That did not go well.”

Millie stepped back, waving her to come in. “Are we talking ice cream or wine?”

“I might need something stronger,” Wren said, walking into Millie’s place and flopping face-first on the soft, green couch. She turned her head to the side so she wouldn’t smother herself and added, “Got any vodka? Whiskey?”

“That bad, huh? Let me see what I have.”

Millie disappeared into the adjoining dining room, leaving Wren to stew in her feels before returning a few moments later with a brown bottle. Millie popped the top and held it out to her.

Wren scrambled to sit up and took the whiskey bottle with a smile. “You’re an angel.”

“Let’s hope you’ll still think that in the morning. This stuff packs a punch.” Millie took the bottle from her and downed a swig before handing it back. “So, what happened? You let him down easy?”

“I didn’t exactly end things,” Wren said hesitantly.

“You told him you didn’t want anything serious, right?”

Wren nodded.

“And that you didn’t want a boyfriend?” Millie started ticking things off on her finger as she recited the game plan Wren had told her. “You never want to get married. You want to have kids but without the complications of commitment.” Millie watched her take another swig, one perfectly shaped eyebrow arched. “How does none of that end things if he’s not down for a casual association?”

“I told him all that and gave him a spectacular BJ to soften the blow.”

Millie held up her hand. “Hold up! You told him you two couldn’t be anything to each other, and then you went down on him?”

“Yes?”

Millie gave her a come-here motion. “Give me the bottle.”

Wren did as she said, and no sooner had the bottle left her hand, a throw pillow came flying at her head, smacking her sharply.

“Ow!”

“Talk about mixed signals! What were you thinking?” Millie scolded her, and Wren scowled back, rubbing her face.

“I was trying to even things up, since he’d done the same to me—”

“You know what? Never mind. I don’t care why. How did he respond?”

“He seemed hurt and thrown, and I asked him to get a drink after all that, and he said he needed to think.”

“Girl, that is not how you cut a guy off, but you might have just alienated him to the point that he’ll never speak to you again.”

Millie’s words hit Wren like a fastball to the stomach, and Wren rubbed the ache with a frown. “I don’t want that.”

“No? What do you want then? Him to follow you around town, waiting outside your house, stalking you?” Millie gave her back the bottle, and Wren took an extra-large gulp, letting the liquor burn its way down her throat. “Listen, you got your rocks off, and the man isn’t pushing you besides a few text messages. Sounds like you got off easy. Why is this bothering you so much?”

Wren blew into the top of the bottle, making the glass groan. “It was just nice. It was like, the most amazing sex ever, and I thought I could keep him on the back burner as something fun and enjoyable while I figured out what my next steps were.”

Millie studied her for several minutes before offering, “I guess you have to talk to him about that, but what about your other issue?”

“Which would be?” Wren asked.

“You came back here to slow down and be a mom, and if you don’t have a longtime partner or boyfriend, you have to find another way to make that happen.”

“I know,” Wren sighed, “but the clinic tried to follow up with the one guy who called, and he hasn’t returned their phone calls.”

“So, what if you pulled a Mindy Kaling?”