The Holiday Kiss Page 3

  “Surfing, right,” I muttered. Because taking a surf lesson would absolutely make everything all better. I mean, sure it was the first time in my life that my dad wouldn’t be around to celebrate a major holiday but I could catch a gnarly wave, right?

  She moved in closer and dropped her voice so the boys couldn’t hear. “I think this will be easier on them on vacation than if we stayed here and tried to act like nothing was different.”

  I nodded. For a second it was hard to talk. But then I managed, “Yeah, I get it.” And I did. The situation sucked, there were no two ways about it. But maybe this way we could all at least pretend to be happy about the holidays. I mean, I didn’t know much about Mexico but my guess was there would be a whole lot of new experiences to keep my brothers distracted from the fact that it was Christmas.

  In fact, it wouldn’t be Christmas, it would be Navidad.

  Maybe Lila knew what she was talking about after all. I narrowed my eyes at my mom as a suspicion started to form. “Wait, why did you choose Mexico, of all places? And where exactly are we going in Mexico?”

  She licked her lips and I saw her wariness.

  Oh crap. I tilted my head back with a groan. “Tell me this isn’t happening.” I dropped my gaze to meet hers. “Please tell me we’re not going on vacation with Maya and her mom.”

  Chapter Three

  Maya

  My mom was acting weird, even for my mom. As we waited at the gate for our flight to board, she was acting…shifty. There was no other word for it. My mom kept looking around like she was waiting for someone.

  “Who are you looking for?” I asked.

  She gave me a wink. “It’s a surprise.”

  Wait…what? She actually was waiting for someone? “Mom, who’s meeting us and why—”

  “Maya, Maya, Maya,” a low voice I knew and hated came from behind me.

  No. No, it couldn’t be. I widened my eyes at my mom and she beamed, giving me two thumbs up in the most tone deaf response of all time.

  “Do they even let people into Mexico when they’re wearing turtlenecks?” Luke was standing right behind me but I kept staring at my mother. Like maybe if I didn’t acknowledge this new turn of events, he would just go away.

  “Surprise!” my mom called out, like this was my big birthday present and not an epically awful shock.

  “What is he doing here?” I hissed. But before my mom could answer, Patty walked over and gave my mom a hug and then me.

  And then they were both talking at once about how it was such a last-minute decision and how fun it would be to have friends on vacation and blah, blah, blah.

  I couldn’t stop staring at my mother even though I could feel Luke watching me. Maybe that’s why I kept my eyes on my mom. If I didn’t turn to face him, I wouldn’t get sucked into whatever nasty little mind game he wanted to play next.

  I don’t know what I’d ever done to make him dislike me so much. I honestly don’t. It was Luke and his friends who used to make fun of me in middle school and junior high, not the other way around. They didn’t anymore, but not because they’d grown up, just because I no longer bothered trying to interact. I had my circle of friends and Luke had his. We moved in our own circles and kept our worlds neatly separate.

  Until now. Now, suddenly he was not only in my life, he was on my vacation. This was my favorite week of the year, and quite possibly the last time I’d get to do this with my mom. Or, at least, the last time that it would be like this. With me living at home and us still joined at the hip.

  Starting next year everything would be different. I hoped to get a part-time job but who knew if I’d be able to swing a flight to Mexico in addition to train rides back home for the occasional visit.

  This was supposed to be my last chance for one last perfect holiday vacation and Luke Perona had just ruined it.

  “Oh, come on, don’t be like that,” Luke said from behind me. His younger brothers had found a seat to my left and were sharing earbuds and watching something on a smartphone.

  I was still standing there frozen. I think some little part of me seriously believed that if I continued to ignore him, he would go away. I’d wake up to find this was a bad dream.

  His hand on my shoulder shattered the last of my hopes. His hand was big and warm and the feel of its weight shocked me more than it should. I jerked away and spun around to face him.

  He arched his brows and held his hands up. “Whoa, sorry. I didn’t realize the ice queen had a thing about being touched.”

  See? How did he do that? All I did was turn around and somehow I’d just become an ice queen. An ice queen who didn’t like to be touched, no less. Everything I did was wrong around this guy. But really, that pretty much encapsulated my entire experience at Briarwood.

  Staring up at him I had the kind of realization better suited for a therapist’s couch than an airport waiting area.

  Luke Perona was the embodiment of everything I hated about Briarwood. He represented the kind of mentalities and personalities that had made my academic experience so trying for so many years.

  When I was with Luke I was acting out my worst Briarwood nightmares on a microcosmic scale. Everything I said was too stilted and awkward. The way I dressed was wrong—he’d already kindly pointed that out. Moving away from him too quickly? Wrong. It had always been like this for me with the other kids at Briarwood, which was why I’d stopped trying to fit in. I would never get it right. I’d accepted that. What was more, I’d sought out others who didn’t fit in. I’d found my people. I’d focused on school work so I could go to a school where I was surrounded by my people.

  “We’re now ready to board,” a voice boomed loudly over the PA system and I jumped again, this time because I’d been startled out of my very own self-therapy session.

  See? This was not the sort of thing one should be thinking about when facing an arrogant ass in an airport when the two of you are about to spend the next week together.

  “Seriously?” Luke made a scoffing sound in the back of his throat as he assessed me from head to toe. “So you’re just going to ignore me now? Give me the silent treatment?”

  I actually hadn’t meant to do that, but yeah. Sure. Why not? I gave a half shrug. “It’s better than fighting with you all week.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Fine. Suit yourself.”

  He went off to join his brothers and I found a seat nearby, pulling out my kindle to start one of the many books on my to-read list.

  In that sense, the flight and ensuing bus ride to the hotel weren’t so terrible. Luke kept his distance, and I kept my nose in my book. Mom and Patty were happily keeping a conversation going and the boys were in their own little world.

  Some of my tension eased a bit by the time we reached our hotel. Maybe this wouldn’t be so terrible. Luke clearly didn’t want to spend time with me either, so all we had to do was keep our distance.

  I could do that.

  Did that sound like maybe it was too good to be true?

  That’s because it was.

  I should have known that sort of blissful separate-but-together compromise wouldn’t fly with my mom. The unspoken détente lasted approximately twenty-four hours, just long enough for everyone to get situated in our little cabins at the resort.

  It wasn’t a fancy place—it was a small, beachside inn run by a nice family who adored my mom and me since we’d been coming here forever. My mom and I shared a two-bedroom bungalow with a great view of the ocean and a hammock on the deck that was my favorite place in the world to read.

  The Peronas had two bungalows across the property, on the other side of the pool. From the looks of it, Patty and the boys took one and Luke had the small studio-style one all to himself. Of course he did.

  We’d gotten in late last night, so today was spent getting Patty and the boys situated. No one in their family spoke Spanish so we took them shopping, showed them around town, got them stocked up with groceries…that sort of thing.

  Lucki
ly Luke sat out the trip to town, opting instead to swim laps. Shocker, I know. You can take the jock out of Briarwood, but you can’t take him out of the pool.

  That afternoon I’d gotten in some solid beach time with my mom and was settling in for a nice chill night with my book while my mom got ready. She had plans to take Patty for a night out on the town.

  This was fine by me. My mom, unlike me, was a social butterfly. I was actually kind of happy that she had a friend here to go out with so I wouldn’t get dragged along for these kinds of nocturnal outings.

  She came out of the bathroom while putting in her earrings. “Hon, you’re not going to sit around here all night alone, are you?”

  I stared at her blankly. Was that a rhetorical question?

  Also…had she met me?

  I held up my kindle. “I’ll be fine.”

  She paused, dropping her hands with only one earring in as she gave me that mom smile. I don’t know how else to describe it. It was a blend of knowing, warning, chiding, and hopeful that only my mom could manage. “I wasn’t worried about you.”

  I dropped my tablet, guilt sloshing around in my gut as her meaning sank in.

  She perched on the couch beside me. “You know this holiday is going to be tough on those boys.”

  I nodded. I knew that. I wasn’t heartless, just not emotional. There was a difference, as my mom knew.

  “Patty needs my support right now,” she said. “But those boys could use some help too.”

  I swallowed down that gross feeling of shame. It wasn’t like I hadn’t thought about that, but also…Luke. “They’ve got Luke,” I said lamely.

  My mom sighed. “I know you two don’t get along, but this has got to be hard on him too.”

  I pursed my lips to keep from saying something snide, like maybe how he had no heart or how he was a soulless asshat who only cared about winning swim meets. I managed to keep it inside because, you know…Christmas.

  ‘Twas the season and all.

  “This is their first Christmas without their father around,” she said slowly.

  I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. She didn’t have to say any more. I remembered. Years might have passed, but I remembered that first year after Dad left in a visceral way. Just thinking about it made my stomach churn.

  Tomorrow was Christmas Eve so the next two days would be the worst, a crescendo of crap until the epic climax of a Christmas. Holidays in general sort of sucked like that. There was just so much anticipation, so much hype. So many traditions and expectations.

  I sighed again. “What do you want me to do?”

  She shrugged. “I’ll leave that to you. But I do know that Luke will be babysitting those boys all by himself tonight, and I’m sure he would love some help.”

  I let out a sharp laugh. “Yeah, from anyone but me.”

  My mom did a weird thing with her mouth. She pressed her lips together and then wiggled them around like maybe she was going to say something but didn’t know how to say it.

  That was never a good sign. My mom always knew what to say.

  “Give him a chance.”

  I blinked at her. Okay, I guess I should have seen something like that coming. My mom was all about giving people the benefit of the doubt, one of many traits I had not inherited from her.

  “He’s a jerk,” I started.

  “He’s different from you.” She got up, already back to putting the second earring in. “Maybe if you get to know him better you’ll find he’s not that bad.”

  I stared after her as she headed back into the bathroom.

  Maybe. Or maybe I’d find out that he was just as shallow, conceited, and insanely annoying as I knew him to be. I’d been the one going to school with him my whole life, not my mother.

  But as I tried to turn my focus back to my novel, I couldn’t quite squelch that gross feeling in my gut. The one that physically reminded me just how badly that first Christmas without a parent could be.

  I might not like Luke, and I truly didn’t believe he was suffering all that much. I mean, that would require having depth and a heart. But his brothers were normal. Sweet, even.

  I threw my kindle to the side and went to the giant unopened piece of luggage in the corner. The one that my mom called “Christmas in a Box.”

  Looked like I was going to do the nice thing. Be the better person, and blah blah blah.

  It would just suck so much less if Luke wasn’t there to witness and mock me for it.

  Chapter Four

  Luke

  This trip already sucked and we were only one day in. My little brothers were miserable and I was freakin’ tired of pretending I wasn’t.

  This whole Mexico idea was a bad one. But the worst part was, my mom was still on this crazy high, or at least she was pretending to be for the boys’ sake. Either way, it grated on me, and I think the boys too. There was nothing worse than being in a crappy mood and then having to deal with someone who was chipper.

  After she left for her night out with Lila, my brothers and I sank onto the sofa to watch the only English channel on TV. They were playing old Matlock episodes that bored the crap out all of us, but even my little brothers who were basically just two balls of nonstop energy, didn’t care to do anything else.

  Half an episode passed with us just sitting there in silence waiting for bed, when there was a knock at the door.

  My brothers turned to me, their eyes wide in shock, like a knock on the door was the boogeyman requesting entry or something. Kids are such scared little things. “Relax, guys. I got it.”

  I don’t know who I was expecting—a hotel staffer or something coming to tell us that the TV was too loud, maybe?

  I definitely wasn’t expecting this girl. I couldn’t even call her Maya because she looked nothing like the stuck-up nerdy outcast I’d known forever.

  Her hair was down. I know that shouldn’t have blown my mind or anything but it did.

  I don’t know that I’d ever seen her hair down. Ever. It was…pretty. That sounded lame, right? Whatever. Her hair was pretty. Sue me. Long and black, it fell down her back and over her shoulders in these thick, silky waves. It made her look softer. Almost touchable.

  But I knew better than to touch her, she’d probably punch me in the nuts.

  She wasn’t wearing makeup—she never did as far as I knew—but there was something different about her features. Maybe it was just a side effect of the hair, but she looked less icy and more like a normal girl.

  She also looked annoyed to see me. What, was she expecting someone else?

  After a second she arched one brow and held up a bag full of stuff. “Can I come in?”

  “Oh.” Crap. I hadn’t even realized I’d been standing there gawking at her like a creeper. “Yeah, sure.” I opened the door wider and stepped back so she could come in.

  My brothers were normally pretty polite—neither of my parents put up with rude behavior—but I couldn’t really fault them for giving Maya the stink-eye before turning back to the TV. It’s not like they didn’t like Maya. They didn’t know her like I did so they thought she was just as cool as any other girl. Which was to say, not that cool. But they were currently in a foul mood because they hated that we were here, and so did I.

  I mean, if I were at home, at least I could be hanging out with my friends right about now. The beach was nice and all, but with two moping little brothers and a mom who was constantly two steps away from a meltdown?

  Yeah, that made it far less awesome. I understood what my mom was going for—a giant distraction. But no amount of waves or sombreros were going to fool my brothers or me into thinking that this was a fun holiday trip.

  Worse than all that, my brothers were getting cheated out of a Christmas. I didn’t care all that much about that stuff anymore, but they still did. I knew without a doubt that they were upset about not having all the Christmas stuff as they were about the fact that my dad wasn’t with us.

  So yeah, I actually felt a little bad
for Maya as she stood there in the middle of the bungalow with a shopping bag in one hand. “What are you guys watching?”

  “Something lame,” Adam muttered.

  I couldn’t have said it better myself. But I kept quiet. I was too busy enjoying the view.

  Now, here’s the thing you had to know about Maya, the class dork. She dressed the part to a tee. Like, all the time. Yes, people mocked her for being a nerd, but it was hard to even feel bad about that fact when she was basically asking for it.

  The girl wore knee-length pleated skirts, for God’s sakes. She wore Peter Pan collars. She regularly sported knee-high socks and turtlenecks. And maybe all of that wouldn’t have been so weird if Briarwood had a uniform policy. But it didn’t. Everyone else wore normal clothes.

  Everyone else dressed like they lived in the twenty-first century. But Maya—hell she wore her hair back in a tight bun like some kind of spinster from the olden days. She dressed like the quintessential nerd. The only thing missing were the glasses and the retainer, both of which she’d had during junior high but had ditched at some point along the way.

  Seriously, the girl looked and talked like a nerdy prude, like some sort of time-warped weirdo who’d go on to do something amazing with her life but who would die surrounded by cats.

  So why was I mentioning this now? Because I need to be clear on just how shocking it was to see her standing there in my living room wearing normal girls’ clothing. If I’d just said, she was wearing a cotton tank top and yoga pants, it wouldn’t explain why my jaw was on the floor.

  When she’d first arrived I’d been too dumbstruck by the fact that her hair was down to look any further. But now…well now, I couldn’t look away.

  Holy crap. Maya Rivero had been hiding a killer body this whole time. Underneath those ridiculous button-down Sunday school blouses were stunning curves, and those pleated skirts had been hiding the kind of hips and butt that made grown men weep.