All Madison wants for Christmas is the same person who once wanted her. Free from the shackles of her broken heart, she's finally ready to give love another shot. But is Madi too late to win back the man of her dreams?
SEQUEL to The Heartbreak Hypot...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Under Joanna's fiery glare, I was conducting more heat than the jar of jam I'd just opened.
Because the last time I saw Joanna Parsons was when she tumbled out of James' bed wearing nothing but his tee-shirt. When she ripped the coffee I'd bought him from my shaking hands, then smirked before slamming his door in my blood-drained face.
Now, James was pinning me to the counter of his parents' kitchen, feeding me cheesy pickup lines while my lips were still imprinted with the memory of his.
Maybe I should have felt victorious. I didn't. Rather, my limbs were locked tight, my feet anchored to the marble floor. My mind was on alert, shouting at me to run. To take James with me while everything was still intact. But every other part of me was waiting. Watching. I couldn't help it. I was as helpless as a gazelle holding a lion's stare. I knew I should flee, but I also knew that fleeing was futile.
And it wasn't just me who felt uncomfortable, I realized. Uncertainty and awkwardness seeped out of all three of us, rising into the air and encasing us in silence. It was so quiet that I could hear the clock ticking above us. Literal seconds of silence were playing out like hours.
Joanna must have realized it at the same time as I did. She never was one to be bested by vulnerability.
In an instant, fire turned to ice. Her stare became hazy, almost as though it was obscured behind a veil. The corners of her mouth lifted in a smirk that didn't quite make it to her eyes, as cool and as hard as a sudden rippling breeze.
"Jimmy." Her greeting was dry and plain, like butter on toast. She stretched her smile lazily, though her insincerity was overwhelming.
"Hi, Jo."
It was only when James spoke that I realized how much he'd hardened. His limbs were stiff, as though he were a plank of wood. His chin was still resting on my head, his hands on my waist, but it felt as if he was drifting a hundred miles away.
It was a stark contrast to how we'd been before. Laughing. Teasing. Affectionate. Happy. And, god, did my heart feel the distance. It was suddenly so sore. It was holding its pace, just like my lungs were holding my breath.
As long as we're here, nothing can change.
Why was I so quick to disagree?
Joanna turned, regarding me slowly. Carefully. She was assessing me like I was the one who'd just stumbled into the kitchen, or like I was a foreign being who'd fallen out of the stars.
"And ... Madeline."
"Madison," James corrected. His tone was still hesitant, his grasp still slack. But he didn't miss a beat before saying, "You know that."
Her eyes moved again, two sizzling embers concealed behind a carefully constructed fortress. But when they traced his arms further and further down, when they found his hands clasping my waist, a millisecond of uninhibited emotion flickered like candlelight. She couldn't mask it, it was too intense. It was something like anger. Something like pain.
