by Wendy Knight
Katrina tipped her head to the side, considering him. She would never give him a flippant response, and it was a question that she couldn’t answer right away. Slowly, she took his arm again and pulled him along, watching the river below. “Sometimes. It’s hard, being judged. It’s hard knowing who to let in and who’s out to hurt you or use you. But we can do a lot of good with the opportunities we’re given, Crew. If she doesn’t see all the good you’ve done, then she’s not worth your time.”
She muttered something under her breath about finding Azura and also something very violent, but Crew could only smile. “She’s hurt. Literally. It was like someone had flipped a switch. One second, I thought I—well, it doesn’t matter. The next, she was freaking out and then she was just gone.”
“And no explanation? Nothing?”
Crew shrugged. “No. No word from her at all.” He frowned. It had been almost two weeks and she still wouldn’t return any of his calls or texts and he had only seen her at school once—from clear across the basketball court right before she’d fallen on her face. The only thing he’d gotten was a note on his truck windshield that said I’m sorry. He’d assumed it was from her because as far as he knew, he wasn’t waiting on an apology from anyone else.
I hope you’re okay, Azura.
“Well, I can’t believe you’re not coming home for Christmas. What about all our traditions? What about the tree? You’re the only one tall enough to put the star on the top!”
He shoved his hair away from his face and sighed, staring out over the river. “Maybe we make too big a deal of Christmas.”
Katrina skidded to a halt once more, her hand flying to her mouth. “What? Why would you say that? Christmas is a big deal. Our entire company gets into the spirit. While you’re being a Christmas grinch, everyone else is out shopping for those less fortunate. Did you forget what today is?”
Crew shook his head and kicked at the snow, properly chastised. “No. I didn’t forget.” Every year, the magazine gave all their employees the day off—and gave them a check for $500, along with the name of a family less fortunate. They called it Christmas Cares, and the employees all spent the day shopping for someone else. On Christmas Eve, they all got to play Santa. It was Crew’s favorite part of Christmas.
Ever.
“You didn’t go this year, did you?”
He ground his teeth. “Not yet. There’s still time.”
“Did you pick out a family?”
His sister was a journalism major. It was obvious by her incessant questions.
“Yes.”
“So...were you just not going to get them gifts this year? Was your Christmas Cares family just not going to get a Christmas because you’re being a Scrooge? This was your idea, Crew. Your baby. You were the one that set this in motion five years ago. Now you’re just—”
“Chill, Kat!” Crew held up his hands in defeat, trying to ward off the massive guilt she was burying him under. “I’ll do it. I just haven’t done it today. I’ll get to it.”
“See that you do.” She sniffed, shoving her gloved hands into her pockets and wandering away from him. “Her negativity infected you, but I won’t let you infect me. I’m going to the animal shelter to play with the dogs.”
Crew couldn’t help but smile. “You got them presents too, didn’t you?”
“Everyone deserves a Christmas present, Crew. Especially them,” Katrina said over her shoulder. “Wanna come?”
He didn’t feel like being sociable, but dogs didn’t require him to use the right words or say the right thing. They just liked him. Still, he should probably log in some extra hours at work.
Katrina continued. “It’s hard to be grumpy around a bunch of puppies.”
“Hold up.” Crew jogged after her. “There are puppies?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Holly dumped four giant books on the coffee table in front of where Azura lay, curled under a blanket staring at the TV. The screen was blue. Something had happened right after she turned it on and there hadn’t been any stations since.
She couldn’t muster the will to care.
Every time she moved, something painful or something embarrassing or something expensive happened. She’d given up doing anything but hiding in her house with her candy-cane burned forehead, black eye from when someone’s shoe had slipped off and found Azura’s face, bruised ribs from when she’d fallen down the stairs, and swollen hand that was pretty recent—she’d tried to hide from Jake in the closet and he’d slammed the door thinking, for some crazy reason, that no one was in there.
So she’d screamed in pain and been caught hiding in the closet like a toddler.
Not embarrassing at all.
In the past week alone, besides those things, she’d missed her last final, worn a dryer sheet on her pant leg all day along with toilet paper on her shoe, tumbled out of a changing room with her pants tangled around her thighs, and fallen down in the middle of the court at the last basketball game of the school year. The whole place had erupted in laughter.
Crew had been there.
She’d seen him in the stands. Which was why she’d fallen in the first place—watching him instead of where she was going.
He had not laughed.
And she’d still been unable to face him. After her embarrassing reaction to being—well, embarrassed—especially in the face of his kindness, how could she ever look him in the eye again? He’d think she was crazy.
A crazy cyclone of accident-prone chaos. Just what every girl wanted to be known as by the hottest guy she’d ever met.
It was for the best though. He’d be easy to fall for. She couldn’t fall. She had to stay focused and falling made one lose focus. She couldn’t lose focus or she’d fail her classes, get kicked out of school, never find a job, and end up homeless on the street, collecting kittens because they were her only friends.
Or something similar.
“Hello? Look, Z, I know you think I’m insane every time I bring up this curse, but look. I have proof. And these books are big and dusty, so you know they’re legit. Unlike every website I found that would also prove my point.” Holly glared pointedly, her fiery red hair escaping from the high bun she’d piled it into, and she looked just a bit like a very adorable, very annoyed Medusa.
Azura struggled to sit up and extricate herself from her blankets while Holly flipped through the books to the pages she’d marked before she’d come home. “Look at this.”
Azura obediently pulled the first book toward her while Holly started digging through the next one. “And this. And this.”
The books were indeed dusty and old, but she couldn’t imagine a book on Christmas lore and curses would have been checked out much. Who wanted to think about darkness at a time when everything was supposed to be merry and bright?
She did, that’s who.
Holly growled low in her throat and Azura hurriedly started reading. “It says Mistletoe is poisonous and we shouldn’t eat it.”
“Keep reading,” Holly ground out.
“It says that the Celtic Druids are the first ones to start decorating their houses with it but the ancient Greeks were the first to start kissing under it.” Azura peeked up at Holly to see if she should proceed. Holly nodded. “And it says, in Victorian England, if you refuse a kiss, you’re snubbed for the social season and won’t receive any marriage offers. But I’m definitely not looking to get married so—”
Holly yanked the book from Azura’s hands and thrust another one toward her. “Read this.”
Azura scanned the page. “It just says that if a girl refuses a kiss under mistletoe, she’ll have bad luck for a year. That’s it, Holly, and it doesn’t even tell me where that belief came from.”
Holly threw up her hands. “One more. Read this one.”
Azura settled gingerly against the couch cushions, cradling the giant blue book against her chest and away from her sore ribs. “Mistletoe is a parasitic plant thought to contain healing properties, as we
ll as bring good luck and fertility. Rejecting a kiss has been long-rumored to bring the girl bad luck for one year, unless the curse is broken by receiving a kiss from the rejected party by midnight on Christmas day.” Azura swallowed. “That—that sounds ominous. But still, there’s no fact—”
“Your life is fact enough, Z. You’re a freaking mess. The calm, collected, always-on-top-of-things girl I used to know is an ancient memory. What more proof do you need?” Holly waved her hands around her head, stomping back and forth across their small living room. “I don’t even dare let you out of arm’s reach when you leave the house because who knows what you’re going to crash into or how you’ll embarrass yourself next, and when I go to work I spend the whole time praying you haven’t set the house on fire.”
Azura smiled. She refused to form attachments, and she tried to cut all ties at Christmas time. It was how she’d survived for years.
Until Holly.
Holly refused to be cut. She was a fiery redhead in every sense of the word, and when she’d adopted Azura as her somewhat reluctant best friend two years ago, she hadn’t let her go, no matter how stubborn or hard-headed or anti-Christmas Azura was.
“You are the best thing in the whole world. You know that, right?”
Holly stopped her tirade, blinking at Azura. “You say as I’m yelling at you?”
Azura nodded. “Yes.”
Holly sank down onto the soft white couch next to Azura. “I’m really worried about you, Z. I know you don’t believe in this stuff, but seriously—there’s something going on.”
“Technically, it started when Crew ran me off the road. Before the mistletoe mayhem” Crew. Even saying his stupid name made her throat ache and her cheeks flame with embarrassment and shame.
Holly held up a finger. “On the contrary, my dear. You drove into a ditch and came out unscathed. Your car didn’t even have a scratch.” Apparently, she’d been putting a lot more thought into this than Azura had.
“It had a broken radiator.”
“A radiator that broke after the mistletoe.” Holly sat back, smiling smugly. “The curse is real, Z.”
“Lots of people reject kisses. You’re telling me that they’re all cursed? There are a whole bunch of women out there running around with the worst luck ever?”
“Maybe they had enough Christmas spirit to protect them. You have none in your sad little heart.”
Azura forced herself to her feet, running a hand through her tangled black hair. Everything Holly said was ridiculous. Completely ridiculous. Except...
Except that it was the only thing that made sense, and she was desperate.
“Okay. Okay, fine, so what—I have to kiss the four guys I rejected? I don’t even know who they are. I was at that party for ten minutes max, and I spent that whole time looking for you.” She nibbled on her thumbnail, trying to remember anything about anybody she’d refused to kiss.
Nothing came up. She’d had tunnel vision—find Holly and get out of there before she could see the Christmas decorations.
Holly smiled slyly, and instinctively, Azura felt her stomach tighten. That smile always meant trouble.
“But we know someone who probably knew every single person there, don’t we?”
Crew.
It was his aunt’s party.
“No. No, Holly, I can’t. I can’t talk to him again.” Images of their last encounter haunted her, and she pressed her hands to her cheeks. “I was so horrible.”
“Good. Then talking to him will give you a chance to apologize.” Holly nodded smartly, agreeing with herself. “Get dressed. I’ll drive you over myself. I don’t have to work until the evening shift.”
“But I—” Azura hadn’t brushed her hair in days. And her ratty sweats were worse now than before, since she had nearly broken her neck changing into pants the last time she’d attempted to get dressed.
“Now, Z.” Holly growled, but smiled cheerfully, like a demonic Christmas angel.
Azura sighed. “Let me find a brush.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Crew leaned against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest while he watched Azura carefully make her way up the path leading to his apartment. Each step seemed to elicit terror even though the sun was shining and most of the snow had melted. There wasn’t an ice patch to be seen.
It didn’t matter. She tripped on the step and nearly face planted onto his porch.
He started forward but she caught herself and pushed back to her feet, rubbing her knee before she looked up. Her huge, dark green eyes widened when she saw him standing there. “Crew.”
“Hey, Butterfly. What brings you to my doorstep?” His lips quirked—the horror on her face nearly undid him. Laughing probably wasn’t the best start to whatever conversation she’d hoped to have.
“Butterfly—I—what? Wait.” She held up a hand and shook her head. “I need to apologize. It’s long overdue but I’m so ashamed of how I acted.” She gnawed on her lip, peeking up at him through her hair and his heart thundered in his chest. She was as gorgeous as he remembered, even with a black eye.
A black eye?
“What happened to your eye? You didn’t have that last week.”
She passed her fingertips over the bruise as if that would jog her memory, or maybe make her forget. “A shoe. A shoe happened to my eye. Anyway, I just—I wanted to tell you how truly sorry I am. I know you can’t understand it, but my actions had nothing to do with you or your lovely apartment and everything to do with me. I’m so sorry. You’ve been nothing but kind and I was so horrible,” she finished in a rush of breath.
“People lash out when they’re in pain. Do you want to come in?” It was still cold despite the shining sun trying to fight its way through the winter chill.
“I—no. No, I’m sorry. I can’t. I just—” she stumbled over her words, her eyes widening in panic. “I just came to apologize and also to ask you something else, but I really don’t want to because you’ll think I’m crazy, but if I don’t, Holly might just kill me dead.”
His lips quirked again. She rambled when she got flustered and it was the most adorable damn thing he’d ever encountered. “Hang on.” He left the door open in case she decided she could, in fact, stand to venture into his foyer, and went to the linen closet. Two blankets later, he came back and shut the door behind him. He dropped down onto the porch beside her, draping the blanket over her shoulders. “Continue with your crazy question.”
She slowly sank onto the wood steps and patted the area next to her. “This might take a minute.”
He swung his own blanket around his shoulders and sat next to her. She smelled like lilacs and mints and Vick’s vapor rub. A weird combination, but he wasn’t complaining.
“Have you ever heard of the—the mistletoe curse?” She ducked, dark hair tumbling across her face as she twisted her fingers in her lap.
He nodded slowly. “I have.”
Azura jerked her head up in surprise. “What? You have?”
“My family owns a magazine that practically styles Christmas. Trust me, I know all the legends.”
“Well, Holly is convinced that when I refused to kiss those four guys at your aunt’s party, I was cursed. And if I don’t find them and kiss them before Christmas ends, I’ll be cursed for a whole year. I don’t know if I believe it,” she said quickly without looking at him. “But I don’t know how else to explain it. I’m not usually like this.” Her hand released the blanket to motion toward herself.
“Amazingly gorgeous and anti-Christmas?” Crew leaned back on his hands, letting the blanket fall behind him. In the sun, it was almost warm.
She frowned. “No. I mean yes. I mean—no. What?”
Crew laughed. “So what do you need from me? My assurance that the curse isn’t real?”
“No, actually. I’ve decided that it must be real.” She still watched him suspiciously, waiting for another off-hand comment to slip out of nowhere. “I didn’t know anyone at that party. I was hopin
g you could help me?” she finished meekly. “Holly has a bunch of pictures—”
Crew sat forward, leaning on his knees. “I can do you one better than that. My aunt has security footage. She’s hosted too many Christmas parties and lost too many belongings over all these years. She installed cameras last year.”
She squealed and threw her arms around his neck. “Are you serious? This could save everything!”
He froze in surprise but then snaked his arms around her waist. “If it gets me that response, I can save the day anytime.”
She pulled away, blushing. “You’re very...complimentary today.”
He shrugged. “That’s just the kind of guy I am. You have anything going right now?”
“Right now?” she squeaked, eyes darting from him to the road and back again. “Holly is waiting out front—my car is still in the shop—”
“What? Why? It should have been done days ago.” Crew rose to his feet, holding out a hand to pull her up with him. She hesitated, then slipped her fingers through his, struggling to her feet while her other hand cradled her ribs. He frowned.
“The company keeps sending the wrong part. It’s not Garrett’s shop’s fault at all. It’s probably the curse.”
“What’s wrong with your ribs?” He held her hand, trying to chase away the cold in her fingers. And also because he just wanted to hold her hand and keep her close for a precious few more seconds.
That didn’t sound pathetic at all.
“I sort of fell down the stairs at school. In front of the whole cafeteria.” She rolled her eyes, shoving her dark hair over her shoulder. “You don’t have to drive me. I’m sure Holly—”
“Is going to show up at my aunt’s house and expect to be let inside? I doubt it. Let’s go.” When she hesitated at his door, he released her hand. “I’ll meet you out front.”
She nodded gratefully and turned quickly to go.