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“Not in that you’re not. I said it’s an ugly Christmas sweater party, not an ugly attitude party.” She swats me again, but I have news for her; I’m not a gnat, and it won’t make me move. “It’s been weeks, Avery. It’s time to stick your tits out and move on.”
It’s been exactly four weeks, but I don’t bother pointing that out. I’ve tried, but she just clucks her tongue and gets me some ginger ale, like it’s going to mend my broken heart and make me feel better.
Although… I guess I’m better than I was two weeks ago, so maybe it’s working.
I roll over and reluctantly sit up, pushing my hair out of my face and eying the hilarity covering the top half of her body. It’s dark blue with a naked Santa lying on his side, a present covering his candy cane. It saysI have a big package for you.
“Nice sweater. Although it seems like you should have saved that one for the pizza man.”
She turns her nose up in the air and hums. “Him and I are on the outs right now. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Which is good, because I don’t think I want to know.
I’m sure she said or did something inappropriate, and I have a hard time feeling bad about her non-relationship with the pizza guy when I’m still swimming in my own grief. They say time heals all wounds, but whoever said that is a fucking liar.
They’ve never known true heartbreak.
It sucks.
I don’t recommend it.
The last month has been a roller coaster of bullshit. My emotions cycle between hurt, anger, depression, and just plain sadness. I’ve been avoiding the arena like it’s my job, and the only guilty pleasure I’ve been allowing myself is watching the Devils games on TV.
That’s only because I can tell myself I’m watching to support my brother, which is half true. And if I don’t go anywhere, I might not have to physically see Foster.
I’m not ready for that yet.
“This sweater isn’t much better than your attitude.” Gloria waves at my outfit, which I thought was cute and festive. I guess I was wrong. “This one’s for you.”
Before I can get a good look at what she wants me to wear, it hits me in the face, and when the offending fabric falls in my lap, she points to the bathroom. I grumble but quickly change.
Gloria is all smiles, and I’m wearing a permanent frown and a red sweater that has gloves sewn over my boobs like they’re grabbing them and it saysFeel the Joy.
Oh, I’m feeling it alright.
I’m feeling it all the way back to bed.
“Perfect.” Her hands clap together, and she steers me out of the room, grabs my purse, and practically pushes me out the door. It’s a good thing Elle picked up Mason earlier, because Gloria is clearly on a mission.
“Who’s throwing this party?” I ask as we pull up outside a spectacular house. It’s a two-story farmhouse style, which is my absolute favorite. The outside of the house is bare, and if it weren’t for the low hum of Christmas music, you wouldn’t know there was a holiday party going on.
“Just a friend of mine. No one you know.” She shrugs, rushing to get out of the car.
Must be a large dicked friend of hers.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen Gloria move this fast. I can barely keep up on my way to the house, and as soon as we walk through the front door, I can see why.
The front half of the house is full of men. I’m not talking your average looking guys either. They’re all tall, broad, and muscular.
The deeper we get into the house, the more confused I am.
“Gloria.” I spin around and lower my voice, leaning in so these giants don’t hear me. “Who is your friend? A fucking stripper? Gloria, are these guys from Thunder From Down Under?”
“No.” She waves me off with a chuckle, but then her eyes roam around and land on a guy in the corner wearing a reindeer onesie. “Well, he might be.”
The more I look, the more muscles I see, and the more confused I get.
How does she get all these guys in the same place?
