"London, wait! I can . . ." Pratt began, but I got in the truck and slammed the door. My brother, on the other hand, opted otherwise.

"Stay the fuck away from her, Eighty-Six. I cannot believe you would do that to her. Of all people, London. My sister." Trent was yelling in Pratt's face. "We invited you into our home to share the holidays with us and this is how you show your appreciation? Just go, dude. Your shit will be on the front porch if you decide to come get it. Asshole. You're lucky she's so upset that I don't want to upset her more by kicking your ass." He pushed Pratt back away from the truck, and got in. "Just go, before I change my mind."

Pratt came to my window as Trent started the truck. It needed a second to warm up, so I was stuck when Pratt came to my window and begged me to listen to him. With his phone in his hand against the window I saw the picture of him and me on it as his wallpaper. That only upset me more and I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, hoping I was just having a bad dream.

"London, it wasn't what you think. Please, just hear me out," he begged, with his forehead against the window.

I just sat staring straight ahead, not acknowledging him at all, but I could see he was looking up at me as I wiped my tears from my cheeks.

"Please, baby, listen to me," he begged again. "I swear it's not what you think."

"Fuck you," were the only two words that came out of my mouth before Trent pulled off, kicking up gravel and dirt in his wake.

I watched in the sideview mirror as we pulled away from Pratt, and he threw his hat, then punched a car. He shook his hand out and rested his head on top of the car in what was a spectacular rendition of being remorsefulbut I wasn't buying it. I felt my happiness shred into confetti-sized pieces as I watched him disappear from my sight.

Pratt Montgomery is an asshole. He broke my heart before I even had the chance to offer it to him.

Chapter 10.

When we made it home I threw my stuff on the kitchen table and ran upstairs to my room. I heard my mom ask what was the matter with me, and where Pratt was. When my brother began explaining what had happened, I slammed my bedroom door. Yes, Princess was acting like a crybaby . . . and I didn't care.

Truth be told, Pratt didn't technically do anything wrong. He was only guilty of douchebaggery in the first degree. We had hooked up, that's all. My biggest issue was how foolish I felt. I thought we had a pretty great connection, but it turned out the only connection between us was sex. And that's what pissed me off the most. If it was just a hook-up, why go through the charade of acting like you cared? Why hold my hand? Why pull me close to you and kiss my forehead? Why go through the motions, when I had already given it up to him?

I knew we weren't a couple, but what I hadn't banked on was him pulling something like thatand I certainly didn't expect to have this strong of a reaction. I'd be lying if I said I didn't really like him. Like, I had even looked past the holidays and contemplated if we could work something out long distance until we graduated, or something. Welp, when you're wrong, you're so wrong.

There was a knock at my door and my mom asked if she could come in.

"Sure," I said flatly.

She came in, holding a few baby wipes in her hand. "For your eye makeup," she explained, and handed them over.

"Thank you," I sniffled, and took one of the wipes. When I swiped my eye, I could feel all the gunkiness of the mascara rolling off. This ought to be pretty. I folded it in half and wiped again. Then I repeated it with a clean one again, on both eyes, until I felt like I had wiped away everything from my face. Including the pain. I didn't want to put my mom through any worry, especially at Christmas.

"Trent told us what happened. Want to talk about it?" She sat down next to me.

"What's there to talk about? I'm fine. We've spent a week and a half together, it's not like we were headed to Vegas for a 'Very Elvis Christmas Wedding'," I snorted, then blew my nose with one of the wipes.

"No, but you two looked pretty chummy . . . and adorable together," she said. "I guess that's why I'm so shocked. I saw how he watched you, and how he'd smile if you said something silly or did something London-esque. Even when you talked, he hung on every word. I just can't believe it."

"Well, believe it. Saw it with my own two peepers." I lay back on my bed and let out a loud exhale. "The pathetic part of all this is I hope he comes back if he has nobody to spend Christmas with. He needs to be around people who care. He hasn't had that in a while."

"I don't think Trent will agree to that. He's pretty pissed off," Mom informed me.

"I'll talk to him. Let me get changed." I hugged her.

"It just doesn't seem like something he'd do," she said. "He's always been such a stand-up kid. I guess my character judgment isn't as good as it used to be." She shrugged and stood up.

"I'll be right down."

I stood up too . . . and then we heard a bunch of thumps out in the hallway. I opened my door to see what it was, and caught my brother kicking Pratt's bags down the steps. Then he picked up Pratt's hockey stick and went to crack it over his knee, but I stopped him.

"Trent, don't do that. He didn't do anything wrong. We weren't in a committed relationship, for the love of all that is holy." My voice went up an octave and I clenched my hands in frustration.

Trent stared at me blankly, and then slowly kicked Pratt's duffle bag down the steps.

"I won't allow him to make a fool of you, London. I warned him beforehand that if he wasn't ready for anything, he shouldn't even look twice in your direction."

"If he comes here to get his stuff, he's welcome to stay. Do you understand, Trent? He has no family." I clenched my teeth and took a step towards him, so we were maybe a foot apart.

"Of course. Whatever Princess wants." He dropped the hockey stick, then bowed to me theatrically.

I tried to reason with him. "Trent, why are you so mad? He didn't do anything wrong." Convincing them was probably going to be a hell of a lot easier than convincing myself.

"Because, London, I told him this would happen. Once Alexi got bored or caught wind that he was seeing someone, she'd do this. Then when she had him hooked again on whatever it is that he sees in her, she'd dump him again. It's been an ongoing thing. She's always dangled herself in front of him, and at the first sign of happiness she'd cry she was sorry, then yank it out from under him. I can't help him anymore. I can't because after what he told me about you, about him believing that you were his one shot at true happiness . . . and he didn't even give it a real shot. He fucked up royally passing you up for that piece of trash."

He kicked the hockey stick, and it slid down the stairs. As I watched it go, all the events of the last few days started to make sense.

"Yeah, well. I wish he thought the same. But that's his choice." If I said it out loud, I might start to believe it.

"Alexi stopped by his aunt's thinking she'd find him there," Trent continued. "Then she and Hannah took a trip out here, once she knew where he was. She called and she texted him, relentlessly. He ignored her. I called her to tell her to leave him alone, and she said she wanted to hear it from him. He got on the phone and told her to leave him alone. Told her he was happy. When she saw you and Pratt at the mall together I knew, I knew she would try something, so I decided to go talk with her. Pratt stayed behind and out of sight, but he wanted to be there in case she got out of control. Because that's what she does. She's head case number two, Hannah's best friend."

He leaned against the wall and ran his hand through his hair. From the expression on his face he looked pretty stressed out still, but it seemed like he'd talked out some of his anger. My mom and I exchanged glances, then I hugged him.

"Thank you for worrying about me," I said. "But don't ruin your friendship with him over this. I'll be fine. Like I said, he didn't do anything wrong. The heart wants what the heart wants, and clearly he isn't over herand that's okay. As long as he's happy, that's what counts. If things don't work out this time, hopefully for his sake he won't keep going back to her. So please, if he comes back here, just don't do anything drastic. Let it go. I'll be okay. I'm not saying I'll be a bucket of sunshine but I will be polite and I won't make things uncomfortable for anyone. Deal?" I stuck out my hand.

"You're too good for him, sis. But you got a deal." He took my hand and pulled me in for another hug.

Then Mom hugged us both, and announced that this was enough drama to last her a lifetimeshe was going to bed.

Trent texted Pratt to let him know the front door was open and he was still welcome in our home, but he should just give me some space. Then he headed to bed himself. I was still a bit wired from the events of the evening and I really hadn't had much time to take it all in, so I decided to grab my Mac and head out to the barn. I went to find Tuna and bring him with me for company, but he was already asleep with Trent.

"Traitor," I whispered, and smiled as I closed the door to Trent's room.

I made some coffee and grabbed a blanket, then headed out there. Luckily I could control the thermostat from an app, so I had turned the heat up as my coffee was brewing, and it was nice and warm by the time I got there. Some after party, eh London?

I got settled in up in the loft, and put on some music. While I was plugging in the light strands I saw all the presents I had gotten for Pratt poking out from underneath the blanket I'd thrown over them. One of the barn cats must have been sleeping under there or something.

I plopped down on my comfy pillow bed, put on my headphones, and turned up the music. I started out checking my email. I hadn't set it up on my phone yet so I had a ton to go through from school, and friends wishing me a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. Then I got to thinking, and I started snooping. First thing I did was Google Hannah because I knew her first and last names. Then when I found her Facebook page I looked through her friends for Alexi. And there she was, all five foot five inches of perky cute blond psycho . . . and I began to cry. I may not have been able to blame Pratt but I sure as hell was entitled to be upset. I really liked him, and I thought we had great chemistry. Turned out that wasn't enough. I still had the knot in my stomach that had formed earlier when I saw him kissing Alexi. Defending Pratt to my mom and brother was one thing. Actually getting over it was another.

I was lying on my side listening to some Taylor Swift when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I screamed and threw my headphones off my head. It was Pratt. I honestly did not expect to see him that night. I thought for sure I'd have some time to process what had happened, and be less angry by the morning if he was back at the house.

"Are you crazy?" I yelled at him. "You scared the shit out of me, Pratt. What are you even doing up here?"

"I'm sorry. I tried texting you but I got no response. When I got here I saw the lights on, and I wanted to talk to you." He sat next to me, but on the floor. I sat up, avoiding any eye contact with him.

"London, let me explain," he said. "Please?"

"No. I'm not really interested, Eighty-Six. You don't owe me an explanationit's not like we were together or had planned on being together. Right? I mean, I was a holiday hook-up. That's cool. I just wish I had seen you kissing your ex-girlfriend before I gave it up to you. At least then I'd still have my dignity and I wouldn't feel like such a whore or a fucking fool for actually having feelings for you." I didn't look at him until the last few words of my sentence.

He got up on his knees and took my face in his hands. "Please. Just hear me out."

"Fine," I said with a shrug, fighting back the tears because I still wanted him, and I felt weak.

"I assume Trent told you about Alexi?" he asked.

"Actually, no, Hannah didwhen she followed me out to taunt me about you kissing Alexi. Trent had to fill me in on the rest of the juicy tidbits on the ride home." I rolled my eyes and pulled away from his hands.

"I don't want to go backwards, London. Let me just tell you what happened tonight. Okay?" He pushed the hair away from my eyes, and I flinched a bit. Not in fear, in that 'get away from me' sense. Just because he technically didn't do anything wrong didn't mean I wasn't itching to punch him for doing what he did. Maybe I was hurt and feeling foolish for assuming he and I weren't just hooking up. Whatever the reason, I didn't want him to touch me. It reminded me that I was a dumbass.

He took my hand and tried to pull me to him.

"Pratt. This is fine. Just tell me so I can get back to my Cats of Instagram." I dismissed his advance for me to sit with him, and picked at the fringe on one of my pillows.

"London, I know, believe me I know what it looked like because I was kissing her, only to prove to her that I was finished with her."

"Yeah, okay." I snorted and picked up my headphones. "I was ready to listen until you fed me that line of bullshit, Eighty-Six. You can leave now and go to hell for trying to make me out to be some dumb bitch who'll buy anything you say."

"Stop. I swear it's the truth. She told me if I kissed her one last time she would leave me alone forever." He sounded desperate for me to hear him out.

"Ohhh, I see, and you believed her because she has such an upstanding character and truthfulness about her?" I stood up. I was getting pissed. He really thinks I'm a special kind of stupid, doesn't he?

"Don't say any more, please," I said. "I was cool with you sticking around for the rest of the break, but now that you've insulted my intelligence you can take your happy lying ass on the road. Maybe Alexi will have you stay with her until school gets back in." I raised my voice and walked over to the window with my arms folded. "I can't believe you expected me to just believe you. Just like that, right?"

I threw my hands up, infuriated by everything that was happening. I totally thought I had it under controlthat I could be diplomatic about the entire situationbut I couldn't. I know it sounds dramatic, but I really liked him and I'd thought there could be more to us. It was a double whammy, to the heart and ego.

"I was hoping you would . . . but I suspected you wouldn't. So I did this." He came over and placed his phone in front of me on the sill. "I'll go get my stuff together and come back for my phone. Just hit play," he said as he walked off.

"Wait." I turned to him. "Take those with you." I pointed to the pile of presents from my mom and me. I didn't even know she had picked him up anything until we got back from the mall.

He gave a small smile and shook his head. "This is why I want to be with you London. You care. You make me happy. I haven't smiled the way I smile when I'm with you in a very long time. Long before my family's accident."

"I guess you should have thought of that before . . ." I began, but he interrupted me.

"I made a judgment call, and I can't apologize for it because I knew the only way I would get to be with you, in peace, happy, is if I made Alexi see it was over. For good. She knew that whole 'kiss me and tell me you don't love me' bullshit got me every single time. This time it bit her in the ass, because I told her the truth. No, I don't. Now leave me alone. I'm happy with London."

I had begun to tear up, and then the slippery little suckers started to fall out of my eyeballs. I hit play on his phone and heard him pretty much repeat everything he'd just said, word for word. He'd recorded the entire thing to prove to me that he wanted me.

After it ended I turned to him and wiped my tears.

"That doesn't make it right, Pratt. Seeing that really hurt me," I sniffled.

"Hurt me, too." He chuckled and looked at his hand, and I smacked his arm. "London, I'm sorry I hurt you, it wasn't what I set out. . . ." he began, but I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him.

"I forgive you. I may not like it, it may feel like you sucker-punched me, but I understand, now." I laid my head on his chest. "Just don't do that shit again, Eighty-Six."

"So, are you saying you'll give me another chance?" He gave me dimple, and my insides turned to mush.

"I guess so. I mean it is the season of giving and all." I nudged him and gave a playful grin.

"I guess I should go talk to Trent," he said, looking out the window towards my house.

"He's asleep. Besides, you have some making up to do." I pulled him down with me onto the pillow bed.

"I sure do," he said, kissing my neck, and I laughed as he started tickling me.

"I love to hear you laugh, London. It makes me smile. I don't think I've ever been this happy. The last few days have shown me that life doesn't have to continue to be a sad road for me. There are still people who care. I got scared when I saw Alexi tonight, and I was so afraid I'd lose you." He searched my face as he spoke. "That I'd lose you before I even had the chance to love you."

"I think you have a pretty good chance of being stuck with me, Eighty-Six." I ran my hand down the side of his face.

"There's no other person I'd rather be stuck with, Princess," he said. And then he kissed me.

A Christmas Novella.

Chapter 1.

Harlow.

The minute my father pops his head around the corner of my office door, I know I'm in trouble.

"Har, do you have a min-oh, are you on your way out?" he asks. His voice holds a hint of hopefulness.

I tilt my head, watching him carefully as I bend down to put my laptop in my satchel. It's two days before Christmas and I'm eager to get home before hitting the mall tomorrow for my last-minute shopping, something I'm guilty of doing every year. This late afternoon fatherly visit has me suspicious. It's all pointing to him asking me something I don't want to do, but that I'll say yes to regardless. "Who called in sick, and what do you need me to do?" I ask matter-of-factly, resigned to my fate of staying at work for a few more hours at best. Unfortunately, it comes with the territory when you're the only daughter of the company owner. He's lucky he's the one man who I'd do anything for.

I stand up straight behind my desk and put my hands on my hips knowing that it always gets a reaction out of my dear ol' dad.

"Oh, stop that! You know it makes me nervous. Ever since you were four and threw the world's biggest tantrum in the middle of Pike Place Market. I'm always scared whenever those dainty hands go onto your hips now." His face fills with a huge knowing grin. I'm starting to think that the old man is finally learning to give as good as he gets.

"Okay. Let's get this over with. What do you need me to do and how long is it going to keep me here for? Because as my father and my boss, I'm telling you that you caught me trying to cut out early."

He grabs the back of his neck with one hand and I catch his smirk, which he schools quickly before looking back at me. "You know I don't care what hours your keep, Har. As for the favor . . . Well . . . You see . . . Tracey called in sick for tonight's flight. I need you to cover her for a flight to Chicago, leaving in an hour."

"An hour!" I shriek. Granted, this isn't the first time I've had to cover a flight. I may be the Marketing Manager now, but since my surname is Wilson, and I'm working at Wilson Air, my father's luxury private airline, he knows that I'll always step in to help him out. But the day before Christmas Eve in lackluster weather at best is just. Not. Cool. "Seriously? Is there no one else who could do it?"

"Sorry, Princess. It's either ask you to cover or cancel the flight, leaving me to deal with a very pissed off rock star and his entourage." He continues to look at me, watching me carefully for any inkling that I'm going to give him an inch when he really wants the whole damn runway.

"Dammit. You owe me for this, Dad. I had a night planned with a bottle of wine and trashy television," I lament, resigned to the fact that my plans have been shot to hell.