by Jenna Reed
This Christmas
Bestselling Author Duo J.L.Beck & C. Hallman writing as
Jenna Reed
Copyright © 2019 by Beck & Hallman LLC
All rights reserved.
Cover art by Black Widow Designs
Editing by Kelly Allenby
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
Contents
Blurb
1. Hannah
2. Jonas
3. Hannah
4. Jonas
5. Hannah
6. Jonas
7. Hannah
8. Jonas
9. Hannah
10. Jonas
Whats next from Jenna Reed
Kissing & Telling Preview
Sinful Secrets
About the Authors
Blurb
I started disliking him in first grade when he threw a frog at me and called my pigtails stupid.
* * *
When we were in middle school, he called me four-eyes and made fun of my freckles.
* * *
Then in high school, he did something so bad, I swore I’d never say his name again, look at his annoyingly handsome face, or even waste a single thought on him.
* * *
And that worked out fine… mostly.
* * *
Well, it did work out until he showed up at my family’s cabin for the holidays. Turns out, his brother started dating my sister. Please, someone, kill me now.
* * *
To make matters worse, I’m stuck with him in one room, sleeping in a bunk bed… yeah, a freaking bunk bed.
* * *
I haven’t made a wish list since I was six, but I’m desperate, so I’m trying everything.
* * *
Dear Santa,
* * *
This year, I only have one wish. Please, make Jonas Wilder go away.
* * *
Love, Hannah
1
Hannah
Man, driving for ten hours by yourself in a beat-up 2001 Honda is so much fun… said no one ever!
My butt hurts, my neck is stiff, I’m hungry, and I have to pee like a racehorse. Of course, for the last thirty miles, there has been no gas station, no convenient store, or any other place I could possibly pull this car over.
I could just stop at the side of the road, but my car has a habit of cutting off when it comes to a stop and then needing a jump start to get going again. So, yeah, that’s not an option.
Briefly, I entertain the thought of trying to pee in a bottle while driving, but then remembered I’m a girl so that probably wouldn’t end well either.
Ten minutes later, and about five minutes from my bladder exploding, I finally spot a sign for a gas station. I hit the gas instead of the breaks as I turn into the exit with my tires squealing. Barely making it through the curve, skimming the grass on the side. I don’t stop at the stop sign either. Like some madwoman, I drive up to the gas station convenience store. Parking right up front, I jump out of the car and sprint inside.
“Bathroom?” I yell at the teenage boy behind the register. He looks at me uninterested, clearly not understanding the seriousness of this situation.
We’ll see how uninterested you’ll be when you have to mop up urine from the floor.
Raising his arm, he points to the back of the store. I race in the direction he indicated with a speed that would rival Usain Bolt’s.
When I finally get into the stall and pull my pants down, I start peeing before my ass touches the seat all the way. My pee is coming out like a flood and with a ferocity that reminds me of a firehose shooting water thirty feet in the air.
Ahhhhh, sweet baby Jesus… relief.
My whole body sags, finally relaxing as my bladder releases what feels like five gallons of pee. When I’m done, I feel like a deflated balloon, one that was overfilled and is glad to be flat now.
Reaching over, I feel for the end of the toilet paper roll under the plastic holder. Just to find it, yup, you guessed it… empty. Of course, it’s freaking empty.
Motherfuckingfuck!
As I see it, I have two options. One, I walk to the next stall. Two, I let my ass air dry. Not wanting to have pee dried on my skin for the rest of the drive, I go for option one. With my pants still around my ankles. I open the door and scurry to the next stall, almost falling over my own feet.
To my utter shock, no one actually comes into the bathroom on my little trip, and I do find toilet paper in the next stall.
After washing my hands, I walk out of the bathroom and back into the store. I’m so hungry I would eat anything right now. Suddenly, a delicious savory smell meets my nose. Pizza?
“Hey, kid, is that pizza I’m smelling?”
“Yeah, that’s my lunch, lady. Made it in the microwave. We don’t actually sell pizza. We do sell nuts,” he points to the shelves with crackers and peanuts. Then he adds with a grin, “We have salty nuts. Do you not like salty nuts?”
“Funny,” I roll my eyes. “I’ll give you ten bucks for your microwave pizza.”
“Fifteen,” he counters. I don’t know if I want to slap his shoulder and tell him good job or slap his face and tell him to go to hell.
“Ten, and I’ll show you my boobs.”
His eyes go wide, and he slightly leans forward. “Seriously?”
“No, you perv! I’ll give you five and not call your mom and tell her what a punk you are.”
“Okay, okay.” He says, holding his hands up in the air before disappearing into the back room.
I grab a coffee and a soda before I pay that little weasel. He puts the steaming pizza on a piece of cardboard and hands it to me. With everything in my hands, I walk outside, making a little bell ring above the door as I open it.
Unable to wait any longer, I take a bite of the pizza before I make it to the car. The melted cheese hits my lips, and I swear it burns the first few layers of my skin right off. I jerk at the pain and my coffee tips over, spilling all over the front of my shirt.
Damnit.
Wishing the day would already be over, I walk to the car and get in. Saying a silent prayer that my car will start now. I turn the key in the ignition, and thank god the engine roars to life. I really should get a new car. My parents have offered to buy me one a million times, but I’m too proud to take the money.
I have enough gas in the tank to make it the thirty miles I have left to the cabin, so I don’t stop again for anything.
Forty minutes later, after a trip that has seemed endless and traumatic to both my bladder and lip, I pull up to my family’s cabin. The place looks just as it always has. Like one of those cabins you see on the side of the road that you keep driving past. You know, the ones where the door is half hanging on and is deserted. Just kidding, it looks like your typical family cabin. A homey, rustic, wooden cabin pressed against the picturesque mountain skyline.
My dad is a contractor and did most of the work himself, it’s his pride and joy. We spend every Christmas here, also other holidays and long weekends as well.
My feet haven’t even touched the first step going up to the porch when the door flies open, slamming into the side of the house, and my sister Laura appears. “Hannah,” she squeals. “There you are…” She stops mid-sentence, her eyes roaming over me, paying special attention to my burned lip and my co
ffee-stained shirt. “What happened to you?”
“Don’t ask,” I tell her, my swollen lip feeling funny as I do. She shakes her head, suddenly not interested in my day anymore. Well, fine, I wasn’t going to tell you anyway.
“Oh my god, Hannah, you won’t believe who is here,” she squeals again and this time her voice remains high-pitched, excitement pouring out of her.
“Mhhh, Santa?”
“Don’t be silly. He won’t come until Christmas Eve. Come in, and you’ll see.” She jumps up and down like a little kid and waves me into the cabin. As soon as I step in, my mom comes rushing out from the kitchen.
“Hannah, it’s about time. We were about to send a search party out for you.”
“Hi, Mom.” I hug her, holding on a little longer than I normally would. Mom-hugs always make everything better. Until they ruin it by saying something stupid, which happens every single time.
“Is that herpes on your lip?” she whispers into my hair.
“No,” I answer, releasing her. “I burned my lip on some cheese pizza.”
“Oh, dear, come in. I’ll bring you something to make you feel better.” My mom scurries away, heading back into the kitchen. Which is technically her second home during the holidays. I’m pretty sure she has a makeshift bed in the pantry.
I turn back to my sister, who is shifting on her legs impatiently, or maybe she has to pee? I know that feeling. “Everybody is in the living room.” She grabs my wrist and starts pulling me down the hallway.
“Why are you so excited? Who is here?” I’d much rather hide in the kitchen than be dragged across the house. Haven’t I endured enough today, Satan? It’s the holidays for heaven’s sake.
“Just wait... It’s a surprise. You’ll be so shocked to see who I have been dating,” she swells with excitement, her eagerness almost infectious… almost.
Pulling me into the living room, she yells at the top of her lungs, “Surprise!”
Surprise in fucking deed. Sitting in my family’s living room like I expected is my father. As always, he is glued to his trusted recliner. However, there are two guys I didn’t expect to be here. Jake and Jonas Wilder. One of which I had planned never to see again. Jake isn’t so bad. Jonas though… Sure he’s gorgeous, with dark hair and a sparkle in blue eyes, but he’s really the devil. An evil, wicked, ruin everything devil.
Jonas Wilder, my childhood bully… my archenemy. One look, and I’m ready to run back out to the car that I know won’t start. This can’t be happening right now. And yet my feet won’t move. I can’t stop staring.
“What the hell are they doing here?” I say out loud before I can stop myself. Laura is sprinting across the room and flops into Jake’s lap. He throws his arms around her and pulls her into a kiss. I guess that answers my question.
“Hey, sweetheart,” my father says, without looking up from his football game.
“Nice to see you too. Is that herpes on your mouth?” Jonas grins, “I guess better on your face than down below, right?” He burst out into laughter, slapping a hand against his knee. No one else laughs, especially not me.
“Ignore him,” Jake says, lifting his chin toward his brother.
“I’ll try my best,” I say under my breath. Turning around, I walk right out of the living room and back into the kitchen. My mom cuts in front of me, a plate of snowman-shaped cookies shoved into my face.
“Here, have one. I made your favorite,” she smiles, but the smile is fake and suspicious, very suspicious. She is up to something.
“Why are you giving me a cookie?” I question, shoving half the thing past my lips. For safe measure, I grab a second.
“Grandma is on her way too, but she didn’t want to make the drive on her own, so she is bringing Darla.”
“Ugh, not Darla,” I whine like a toddler not getting her way. Darla is my least favorite cousin. She is snotty, uptight, and a complete grinch. She’ll suck the happiness out of the room for sure.
“There is more,” she admits, shoving another cookie into my mouth. I don’t think I can handle much more. “Since we have some extra people in the house, I’ve had to shake up the sleeping arrangements a little.”
Oh god…
“Shake it up, how?” I barely get the words out, my mouth overflowing with sugary goodness.
“I gave Laura and Jake the guest room at the end of the hall, Grandma the one next to it, Darla insisted on sleeping on the couch because she needs the TV to go to sleep. So that means—”
“No, Mom… no.” I shake my head, knowing exactly where this is going. I did the math in my head, there is only one room left and two people. “I’m not sharing a room with Jonas.”
My mom frowns, “Don’t be dramatic, sweetie. You’re both adults, and it’s not like you have to sleep next to each other. There’s a bunk bed in there, remember?”
“Mom I really don’t want to…” I try not to whine but the thought of sleeping next to my arch enemy makes me damn near break out in hives.
“Hannah please, it’s for a week, not your entire life.” Ugh, she's right but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. Still she’s my mother, and it is Christmas and the last thing I want to do is ruin our family trip.
“Fine,” I mutter. Grabbing all the cookies from the plate in my mom’s hand, I turn and walk back to the front door. “I’m getting my stuff out of the car,” I mumble, my mouth still filled with sugary goodness. The only freaking good thing about today are these cookies.
Santa better be bringing me something amazing this year. Especially if I have to share a bunk bed with Jonas Wilder.
2
Jonas
“This is great, Anita,” I tell Hannah’s mom, as I spear another piece of her herb-crusted chicken and toss it down the hatch.
“Well, thank you, Jonas. You’re so sweet,” Anita smiles, and Hannah snorts next to her at the word sweet. I watch with amusement as she takes her fork and stabs her chicken like she is about to murder it. Is she imagining I’m that chicken? The way she glares up at me, then back down at her chicken, tells me I’m spot on with that thought.
I don’t blame her for hating me. I was a class A jerk to her in school. It started when we were little kids. Throwing worms and frogs at her. Which later turned to tugging on her pigtails and telling her she smelt like old people. None of those things took the cake of what my stupid ass did in high school. Just thinking about it has my stomach churning.
“Oh my god, Jonas, I can’t believe you got this! You’re the man!” My best friend, Erin yells, making half of the kids on the bus turn their heads.
“Shut up and give me back the picture.” He was never supposed to see it in the first place. No one was supposed to see it. Taking the picture was wrong, keeping it was simply dumb, carrying it around in my backpack… the biggest mistake of my life. I can’t believe I did this.
“Let me keep it for a day, I’ll give it back to you tomorrow,” Erin grins.
“No way, give it back,” I growl as I snatch it out of his hand. He rolls his eyes at me, and I’m seriously thinking about punching him.
“Fine, loser,” he whispers, before he says much louder, “Hey, Hannah.”
We sit all the way in the back of the bus, while Hannah sits three rows ahead of us. She looks up from the book she’s reading and turns in her seat. Looking over her shoulder, her beautiful big eyes find mine, then swing over to Erin.
“Hannah, I was wondering if you wear a push-up bra or just stuff socks in a regular bra?” Half of the bus starts snickering, and I jab Erin in the side for being such an asshole. It’s one thing when I’m a dick to her, but it’s another for him to be.
“Screw you,” Hannah snaps and turns back around in her seat.
Smirking Erin continues, “’Cause I know you must be doing something. I know for a fact your tits are much smaller than they look right now.”
Hannah turns back a furious glare in her eyes, “Don’t flatter yourself. I would never show my boobs to you.
“But you already did,” he laughs, and I watch Hannah’s glare morph into confusion before she twists back around once more. I watch her silky brown hair settle onto her now stiff shoulders, and I tell myself I’m going to burn that damn picture as soon as I get home. No one else can ever get their hands on it. No one.
Shaking the thought away, I bring my attention back to the chicken.
“Where did you say your parents went again?” Dave, Anita’s husband, asks, probably trying to better the mood with some small talk.
“Hawaii,” I tell him. “My mom has been talking about it forever, so they finally went this year. They won’t be back until after New Year’s.” This is the reason I’m here in the first place. Jake insisted I come so I wouldn’t be home alone over the holidays. I jumped on the opportunity to come here, and not because of it being Christmas. Well, maybe a little, but mostly it’s because of the brown-haired beauty sitting across the table, currently staring daggers through me.
She’s adorable like always with her cute button nose, tempting green eyes, and full lips.
Truth is, I’ve always liked her. It started in kindergarten with an innocent crush, but of course, like every six-year-old boy, I didn’t know what to do. I just wanted her to pay attention to me, and I didn’t care how I made it happen. Turns out, I ended up pushing her away more than pulling her in.