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“Your idiotic list, I know. Tell me, you really think Colin or Alan—”

“Adam.”

“You really think either of them is going to show up on your door in the next three days before Christmas because some psycho ‘saw’ it?”

I cross my arms. “Yes.” Maybe.

He leans in. “Bullshit.”

“Yeah, shocking that you feel that way. You’ve hidden it so well.”

“I’ve put up with it well enough, but it’s got you acting nuts, and—”

“You’ve got me acting nuts,” I shout. “You’ve been weird, pushing me out even as you pull Erika in!”

“What does it matter, Kelly? What does it matter whether I hook up with my ex? Isn’t that what you’re doing?”

I swallow, and there’s a lump. “So you are? Getting back together with her?”

He closes his eyes with a sigh, rubs a hand over his eyes. “I don’t know. I can’t possibly think about what to do with that woman when I’m trying to deal with this one.” He opens his eyes and motions with his hand toward me as he says it.

“I’m not yours to deal with,” I say, pushing past him to get outside.

I’ve already taken off my boots, and the snow soaks through my socks immediately.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Getting my mistletoe,” I call over my shoulder, kicking my knees up high as I prance into the yard, so that my feet touch the freezing ground for as little time as possible.

I pull the green bundle out of the snow a second before I’m hoisted off my feet and dragged back into the house.

“You’re an idiot,” he says, depositing me into my kitchen, looking both furious and baffled.

I press one foot on top of the other, trying to warm them, as I find the tiny red loop that the mistletoe hangs by, and then hold the bundle out to him. “Put it back.”

He glares at the mistletoe. “No. Mistletoe makes you weird.”

“Not your problem,” I say, pointing up. “The nail’s still up there. You just have to loop this on there.”

“Fuck the mistletoe, Kelly!”

I gasp. “Take that back.”

“No. Go put on some dry socks.”

“No.”

We’re both breathing hard, and Mark looks…furious.

Well, that’s just fine. I’m a little bit furious myself. Furious at him, and Erika, and myself, and that crazy lady in the train station.

Furious that nothing is simple anymore, furious that my heart is pounding and aching and hopeful all at the same time.

I’m furious that I’m jealous, and that’s new to me, to be honest. Hell, I’m so jealous. Jealous that he kissed her for real when I got a brotherly kiss on the cheek, jealous that he sees her as a woman while he treats me like I’m nothing but the half-batty sister who believes in tea leaves and kinda sorta believes Hogwarts is real.

Most of all, I’m furious that I’ve been waiting my whole life to feel like this and it’s with the wrong guy, who I want so badly to be the right guy.

“Damn you, Kelly,” Mark says in a low voice, disrupting my thoughts. “Damn you.”

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