I've never been one for holidays. I'm sure it has something to do with the way mine usually went. My father would get drunk, pick a fight with my mother, smack me around a bit, knock over the Christmas tree in a whiskey fueled rage—normal stuff like that.

That's why I was so nervous when Elliot said her parents invited me to Christmas dinner. I've spent holidays with them before, but never under these circumstances. It's hard enough to pretend around everyone else, but now I have to be face-to-face with her family and basically lie to them. It makes me feel like shit considering all they've done for me over the years. There were many nights where I would have needed to sleep in my truck if it wasn't for their generosity.

Oliver seems to think it'll be fine. It's not reassuring considering he feels that way about pretty much everything. His outlook on things is skewed by the privilege he's known his whole life. He doesn't understand how important it is for me to make a good impression on his family. The last thing I want is for them to perceive me as some charity case who can't get his shit together. When we do finally tell them, I don't want them to worry I won't be able to take care of Elliot the way they would want.

I stand in front of the mirror, scrutinizing the outfit Elliot picked out for me earlier. It's no surprise this dinner is somewhat formal, and she wanted to make sure I felt comfortable. To be honest, I'm not sure I'll ever be comfortable in her world—but I'm willing to try.

Heels click on the floors outside my bedroom, and I smile. "I'm almost ready," I call over my shoulder. I rush through securing the dark grey tie over my black button-down when she appears in my doorway. I lose my breath for a moment. When Elliot is actually trying to be sexy, instead of just naturally being that way—she burns you.

She hikes up one stocking covered leg and leans along the door frame. "You like my dress?"

I bite my lip while I admire the short hem of her long-sleeved, lace dress and matching red satin heels. The stockings come just above her knees with a tiny little bow on the side. She looks like a present. My mind races through a dozen scenarios that all involve blowing off dinner.

Then Elliot laughs, and my eyes lock on hers. "Do I look like Christmas?" she whispers.

I take a few steps toward her, and she stands in front of me with that seductive look in her eye. Her hand grips my tie, and I reach for her ass. "You certainly look like something I want to unwrap." I glide my hand up the back of her dress, running my fingers along her bare skin. I lean in and kiss her once. "But I doubt we have time for that."

She smiles and tugs on my tie a little harder, bringing our lips inches apart. "It's going to be awfully hard to keep my hands off of you for an entire dinner." She nips at my bottom lip with her teeth and releases her hold. Her expression changes into something less seductive and more modest. Her hands smooth out the collar of my shirt as she speaks. "I know these aren't the most ideal circumstances, but I'm really happy you're spending the holiday with my family. It feels complete with you here."

I get a swelling in my chest again. It's like she knows how I'm feeling without me needing to say it. That's how connected we are now. For every doubt that creeps into my mind, there's a million little reasons why I shouldn't listen to them. Seeing her smile right now is the biggest one. I'd sacrifice pretty much anything at this point to make her happy.

Turning back to the mirror, I give myself one last look. She's fixing her hair when I turn back to her, and when her eyes meet mine, she smiles again. "What?"

I take a step forward and brush an errant curl from her face. "You know, you do look like Christmas." I gently kiss her cheek and then press my lips below her ear. "My favorite one."

***

The main house is decorated like a Hallmark movie on steroids. I wouldn't even know what that meant, but Elliot's been making me watch them for almost a month now. I think she secretly likes happy endings.

I walk past the third fully dressed Christmas tree, and I haven't even made it to the dining room yet. They host a party after dinner that Oliver and Elliot usually slip away from. She said we'd sneak up to the cabin that's a few miles from the lodge once everyone starts to have a few drinks. Oliver handed me one on my way in. I've only been here a few minutes, and my glass is already a pile of melting ice. I might be a little on edge tonight.

Elliot smiles at me from across the room, and it eases some of the tension brewing inside of me. I haven't seen Judah yet, and I'm not exactly looking forward to it. I still haven't gotten around to apologizing to him for what happened. It blows my mind that he agreed to stay quiet about everything. He could destroy me, and yet he chooses not to. Something seems a bit too convenient about that in my opinion.

Pushing those thoughts aside, I walk over and greet Elliot's mother, Claire. She has the same silky, brunette hair down her shoulders, flawless skin, and exotic hazel eyes as Elliot. The gene pool in this family runs deep.

She gives a warm smile when I stop in front of her. She reaches out and squeezes my elbow. "Hunter, we're so happy you came." She starts to guide me into the dining room. "I hope you're not missing something with your own family. They were welcome to come, too."

I hold my sarcasm inside. Maybe we can set up a FaceTime with my dad from prison? I'm sure Mason would be thrilled with that living next to his teenage daughter.

Instead, I give a polite smile. "No, they had a prior engagement. I'll see them tomorrow."

She nods to the chair directly across from Elliot. Judah appears from around the corner at the exact same time our eyes meet. Elliot glances over her shoulder at him and then back to me, an apologetic smile on her lips.

I wink at her so she doesn't spend the entire meal worrying I'm angry he's here. I spent most of the week assuring her I wouldn't be, and I can't derail that promise in the first five minutes. I'm the one who created this drama, and I have no right making her feel like it's her fault.

I take my seat and Oliver smirks from beside me. He already has half a dinner roll in one hand and a whiskey in the other. He's in such a good mood right now. It makes him unpredictable—and that fucking scares me.

Elliot gives a look of warning to Oliver when Judah steps up beside her. I see he ditched the punk-ass, backwards hat and has his hair gelled into messy spikes. He also appears to have just stepped out of a Polo ad. A douchey cable knit sweater and dark dress pants complete the illusion that he's anything less than a pretentious jock.

He leans down to hug Elliot and kisses her on the cheek. My eye is already twitching. He must feel safe right now with his father and Elliot's father, Mason, in attendance—and the fucker would be right. He could spend half the dinner making out with her and there's not a damn thing I can do about it.

Don't play hardball with me, Judah. I'm trying to be nice.

The table is suddenly filled with close family and friends and the small chatter that breaks out begins to relieve some of the tension. Claire passes a bowl of potatoes my way.

"So, how's it going teaching up at Central? Do you and Ollie get to see each other much?"

I take the bowl from her and grab the spoon. After dropping a spoonful on my plate, I pass it to Oliver. "I love it," I say. "It's nice being back at our old school together."

"Yeah," Oliver chimes in. "He's a real hands-on kind of teacher. Takes extra special care of his students."

Elliot's face turns one shade redder, and she apparently kicks him, because I see him wince out of the corner of my eye. I hide my smile with my napkin.

Claire remains oblivious. "That's very nice to hear. Teachers really help mold their students into what they will become."

Elliot raises her steak knife discreetly a few inches off of the table and points it at Oliver in warning. Thankfully, he shows mercy and keeps his mouth shut, shoving another piece of bread in with a grin.

"Well, I think you chose a respectable teaching profession," Mason says between bites. He points his fork to Oliver from the head of the table. "More so than teaching kids how to play dodge ball."

Oliver scoffs. "Hey, I also teach girls how to run fast."

Mason gives a mocking look back to him. "Yeah, I'm sure you're doing it for their benefit."

I see Oliver's jaw working as he shuffles food around his plate. Serves him right for giving me so much shit. It's hard enough dealing with everything going on at this table without his twisted sense of humor.

Mason turns his attention to Judah. A look of pride spreading across his face. "How was your first season playing for Cornell, son? Had to feel good after winning State last year."

The cocky grin I expect in response to the stroke to his ego doesn't come. He glances nervously at his father before answering. "It was different. That's for sure."

Judah's father is still somewhat glaring from across the table, but doesn't add anything to the conversation. Something tells me his behavior this past semester affected more than just his relationship with Elliot.

"That's okay," Mason says dismissively. He reaches for his glass and takes a drink. "I'm sure you two will figure it out."

Elliot chokes on the bite of food she was trying to swallow. Her eyebrows pull in and she reaches for her glass. After taking a drink, she directs her attention back to her dad. "Figure what out?"

Mason exchanges a look with Judah's father and laughs. "You too will be back together come Spring." He smiles at Elliot. "You know you'll be a Holloway soon enough."

Now Judah looks uncomfortable. I watch him toss back the rest of his drink and wish I could do the same. I turn to Oliver and steal his. He doesn't argue like he usually would. He just gives a knowing smile. He's clearly enjoying this.

Elliot's face remains tense. I know she wants to say something back, but the position she's in right now prevents her from doing so. It makes sense that her father would feel this way. Who wouldn't want their child to end up with someone from a nice family that has a successful life?

Mason's comments are forgotten quickly, and the conversation moves on to the game tomorrow, and I couldn't be more grateful. Anything to distract me from the picture of perfection sitting right in front of me. I think that's the biggest problem. By all accounts, they look good together. It makes sense for her to choose to be with someone like him. Why she chose me doesn't really make any sense.

I let those thoughts eat away at me until after everyone is finished with dinner. All of the guests have broken off into smaller groups, and I spot Judah standing to the side by the small bar in the corner of the room. With a sigh, I start walking toward him.

Deciding to get it over with, I reach out and nudge Judah's arm. He looks over at me with the hatred I expected. "What?"

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

He looks back to Elliot who's standing between her father and Oliver. She gives an uneasy smile, clearly concerned with our close proximity to each other. With a sigh, he nods.

I walk out into the empty seating area just beyond the dining room. When I come to a stop, I turn back to Judah, and he shoves his hands in pockets. "Say what you need, man."

I take a deep breath. "I owe you an apology. I'm sorry for the way I handled our argument. I shouldn't have hit you."

"It's fine," he says indifferently and then turns to walk away. I grab his arm to stop him.

"Wait—it's not fine, okay?" I pull my hand back and his shoulders tense, but then he turns around to face me with a scowl. Obviously, he's going to make me work for this. I run a hand through my hair. "I shouldn't have reacted that way and what I did to you was not okay."

He laughs under his breath. "Whatever, dude. I already told Elle I'm not going to say anything. So you can save your bullshit apology."

Instead of punching him again and ruining all of the great progress we're making, I focus on breathing calmly. It doesn't help, but at least he's not knocked out on the hardwood floors right now.

"It's not bullshit," I say. "You didn't deserve that."

He stares at me for a beat, not saying anything. I can tell he's pissed, and I don't blame him. I'm pretty sure he's used to being a dick to her and then being forgiven for it with little to no effort. It must be extremely difficult to have things change so much.

His jaw hardens. "Look," he says, leaning into me. "I'm not going to pretend I'm cool with this when I'm not—but I would never do or say anything to hurt Elliot. So you can quit acting like you're a decent guy when all you're really doing is trying to save your own ass."

I clench my teeth so I don't say what I'm thinking right now. The last thing I need is for things to get heated and have a throw down right here in the formal sitting area—or whatever the fuck they call this room.

So, instead I take a breath and the high road. "That's fine. I get that you're feeling some type of way about all of this and I don't blame you." I pull my hand into my chest. "—but I wanted you to know the apology comes from me. I feel bad about how things went down, and I want to make it right."

Judah laughs and then rolls his eyes. "Consider our beef squashed, dude. She's all yours."

This time when he turns to walk away, I let him. It's obvious his words are bullshit. It's written all over his face how torn up he is over losing Elliot. The only problem I have now is that I have no idea what he plans to do about it.