Hostile for the Holidays

2. Jasper

TWO

JASPER

I’ve imagined a moment like this before. Stella St. James’ head cradled in my lap as she looks up at me with sleepy eyes, her perfect lips curved into a content smile.

“Your lap is ridiculously comfortable.” She sighs. “I hate it.”

Maybe not this exact moment, but it’s a start because I’ve been in love with Stella St. James for ten Christmases, and this year, I’m determined to put our childhood rivalry behind us and tell her how I feel.

To say things are not off to a good start is all about perspective.

I could have done without her being violently ill for the past two hours, but things are looking up now. She drank some water and has been able to keep it down for the past thirty minutes.

Once Stella threw up for the third time, the man next to us was relocated to another seat, so she’s now stretched out across two seats with her head in my lap. I like her like this. Not sick, but softened enough to let her guard down.

She shifts, adjusting her head to get more comfortable. “I should mention this is a revenge plot and you fell for it.”

Okay, maybe her guard isn’t completely down.

“I thought to myself what is the grossest, most repugnant thing I could do to Jasper, and throwing up my Cobb salad was the first thing that came to mind.”

I have to smile. Even in the throes of food poisoning she’s thinking about me.

“I’m flattered you went to such lengths to make my flight miserable, Stell. A less committed rival would have simply opened their water bottle mid-flight and sprayed me in the face with it.”

“There’s still time for that,” she says softly.

When I helped the flight attendant clean up after Stella got sick in the aisle of the plane, she’d commended me on being such a good boyfriend. I didn’t bother to correct her. Partly because I liked the label but also because it occurred to me that what person, besides a significant other, would clean partly digested food and stomach acid up for someone? It was disgusting but I’d do it again in a heartbeat for Stella.

“It was the last salad, Jasper. I thought it was a sign of good luck, but I should have known it was a bad omen. And now the universe has put me right in the arms of the enemy and I’m too weak to fight back.”

“Shh. Or I’ll start playing your spicy romance novel on your phone again.”

“You enjoyed it. Don’t lie.”

I chuckle because, yeah, I did. It had been fascinating to hear what Stella was playing on her headphones. A glimpse into something she enjoys in her current life. One that I know so little about living on the other side of the country.

I brush a piece of her hair off her face and her nose scrunches, but from my observations of Stella’s disgusted nose scrunch over the years, it’s a half-effort at best.

“I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to look like the good guy. Make everyone on the plane think you’re sweet and thoughtful and unreasonably handsome. But they don’t know you like I do, Jasper.”

“Unreasonably handsome?” The corner of my mouth pulls up.

Her eyes open suddenly, and for a moment I enjoy the way those blue gems stare up at me. For the last hour or so she’s been mumbling all sorts of things to me. It’s like having an inside track into her mind, I never thought I’d have such an opportunity. Over our teen years, Stella had made sure to keep a wall up between us. For once, I’m able to look over the top and see what treasures are hidden on the other side.

She lifts a hand toward my face, her index finger tracing lazily along the slope of my nose.

“Don’t argue with me, you’ll never win,” she says before turning her head away.

She shifts her head again, like she’s trying to get comfortable, and I realize her earrings are likely the issue.

“Let’s take these out.” I run a thumb over the eye-catching earrings, watching the green and red crystals shimmer under the airplane cabin lights.

“Fine. But keep them safe. They’re my favorite holiday earrings and since my sweater is already ruined, I don’t want to lose them, too.”

She’s not wrong. The soft cardigan sweater I’d brushed up against when we were fighting over the arm rest didn’t fare well. Luckily, she had a tank top on underneath. The stretchy cropped tank top is low cut and has been giving me an eyeful of Stella’s cleavage for the past two hours.

Pulling my gaze from her breasts, I will myself to focus on the task at hand.

I gently remove the wreath-shaped baubles and place their backings on before tucking them away in Stella’s leather travel backpack.

With her earrings out, she snuggles into my lap, looking far more relaxed.

“I can’t keep my eyes open. I have to rest,” she mumbles. “Please don’t write on my face. At least not with a permanent marker. I’ve got my sister’s wedding next week and she’ll kill me if I’ve got Sharpie on my face in her wedding photos.”

I brush my thumb against her cheek, grateful for any excuse to touch her.

“I could draw a little mustache.” My finger traces a swirl above her plush lips on one side, then the other. “Maybe some devil horns.” I sweep my fingertip along her forehead, sketching the invisible horns.

“Come on. That’s so unoriginal. That’s what you did to me in the class photo in third grade.”

“It’s a classic.”

I’m quiet a moment, my fingertip continuing to trace lines around her face.

“Are you excited for Sadie’s wedding?” I ask.

She makes a noncommittal sound. Maybe that’s all she has energy for right now or it could also be that she’s not looking forward to it.

“Do you have a date?” I ask.

“I’m not answering that.”

“It’s a simple yes or no question.”

I’ve remained calm for this entire plane ride, but the moment we start talking about Stella’s potential date, my heart starts to race. She said she was single, not in a committed relationship, but she could still have a casual date to her sister’s wedding.

“Not from you.” She takes in a deep breath, then exhales.

“I’m trying to make conversation.” From her silence, I can tell she’s not in the mood for it, so I deflect to taking care of her. “You ready to have some more water?”

“Yeah.”

I prop her up enough so the water doesn’t spill down her front, then hold the plastic cup so she can drink.

“If you tell anyone about this, I will deny it, then make your life miserable.”

“More than you already do?” I quip, just for old times’ sake.

“Funny. Just remember, if you thought I was a stubborn menace in high school, think of the resources I have now. A credit card, for starters. Friends who can troll you on social media. The possibilities are endless.”

She’s adorable.

“Sure, Stella. I won’t tell anyone.”

She shivers.

“Are you cold?”

“No.”

Her teeth chatter while goosebumps break out across her skin. Not to mention the two hard peaks poking through the front of her tank top. Fuck.

She’s defiant at best, a liar at worst.

I ease her to sitting, so I can stand from my seat and reach the overhead compartment.

“What are you doing?” she grumbles. “I was comfortable.”

“I’m grabbing your suitcase to find you another shirt.”

We’d disposed of Stella’s sweater. She cried and claimed it was her favorite as I double-bagged it in hazard material bags and stored it under the window seat.

“I don’t have another shirt in my carry-on. It’s only presents and my bridesmaid dress. And I can’t wear that. Sadie will kill me if I get it dirty.”

Instead of reaching for Stella’s carry-on bag, I pull out mine.

“Here.” I hand her a sweater. “Since I know you’re such a fan.”

She stares at it, part awe, part disgust. It’s identical to the one I’m wearing, red with a snowflake on it, but in a smaller size.

“It’s Juniper’s, so I’ll need it back.”

She nods, then pulls it over her head, before we resume our position. Stella’s head resting peacefully on my lap while she sleeps for the remainder of the flight.