Good Elf Gone Wrong: A Holiday Romantic Comedy
Good Elf Gone Wrong: Chapter 18

“I think you’re overreacting,” I said desperately as Hudson looked like he was about to have an aneurysm there under the mistletoe.

“Why did I not know this?” he was muttering to himself.

I shifted my weight on my feet.

“I think we need some baked goods,” I said, urging him to the Jingle Beans café.

The café was feminine with delicate metal chairs and small round tables.

“Hi, a Christmas Spirit, a Rudolph tea cake, and a White-Chocolate Winter Wonderland, please,” I asked the server when she came by for our order.

“Look,” I told Hudson when we were alone, leaning over the table and lowering my voice. “There is no need to panic. Man up, right?”

Hudson sat there for a good, long few minutes in silence, just staring at me.

“You knit,” he said flatly, “and you wear flannel pajamas that your own grandmother wouldn’t even be caught dead in.”

I winced. “Now, see, that’s just—”

“You collect stuffed mice. You like to shop for toys.”

“Those were not for me. Well, not all of them,” I protested.

“You’re a child,” he said, “and I’m going to hell.”

The server brought over our drinks and dessert.

“Feast on the spirit of Christmas!” She set the food down with a flourish.

“I hate this town,” Hudson said when she left. He looked suspiciously at his drink.

“I think you’re being a tad dramatic.”

“I’m being dramatic?” he snarled, leaning over the tiny table so close to me I could kiss him on the nose. Though with the state he was in, that might put him over the edge.

“All I’m saying is we don’t have to have sex,” I whispered.

“Half your family wants me strung up on the North Pole, and the other half thinks I’m a homeless drifter whom you hired to be your fake boyfriend.”

“Homeless drifters don’t know how to use whom properly,” I said, “so I highly doubt that.”

Something akin to apprehension seemed to flash in his face.

Probably related to his sudden obsession with my virginity.

“Fine. But we could fake it, right? We could pretend?”

“They’re going to know we didn’t actually do it,” he countered. “Fuck. We got lucky that they didn’t ask prying questions before. I mean, fuck, you think a penis is covered in hair.”

“They could be.” I felt sick.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “No, they are not.”

“You think that just because I made a choice that works for me that it means there’s something wrong with me,” I cried. “I mean, I know there’s something wrong with me. James said so. He said he was going to tell everyone. That’s why I didn’t make a big stink about him and Kelly.”

Hudson blew out a breath, cursed, closed his eyes, mumbled something about killing James, opened them, and laid his palms flat on the table.

“Look, Sugarplum,” he said carefully. “I don’t care if you wanted to wait to ride a cock until the dinosaurs came back. Your life isn’t that important to me. But you have put me in a shitty position.”

I winced.

“That’s why I think we could just, you know, stage something,” I said awkwardly. “Like jump up and down on the bed and make loud noises.”

Those silver-gray eyes bored into me.

“Sure, but first tell me, what’s your favorite way of getting fucked?”

“Um, I—” I stammered, reaching for my coffee to give me something to do. “Doggy style?” I said weakly.

“I’m not convinced.”

“It’s an awkward question.”

“Tough shit, Sugarplum, because that’s going to be a question your grandmother or one of the other thousand female sex-obsessed family members you have is going to ask.”

“We can watch some porn together,” I said, reaching for a solution, “and we can get our stories straight on our favorite sex positions.”

“God help me.”

He rested his elbows on the table, his hands sliding over his mouth.

“We are going to have to have sex, right?” It sounded like the question was directed to himself more so than me.

“Do we really have to?” I croaked. “I was sort of saving myself for marriage.”

“I need to quit,” Hudson said.

I pushed over the spiked hot chocolate to him.

He took a deep swig.

“Can they put more alcohol in it?”

“Eat this. You need some sugar.” I handed him the fork.

He cut off a chunk of Rudolph’s ear then swore loudly as red currant custard oozed out.

“This is a very popular item on TikTok,” I told him, stabbing the booze-soaked cherry that made up the reindeer’s nose.

He pushed the plate towards me.

“I’m pretty sure I can fake an orgasm,” I said determinedly.

“You’ve never”—he gestured at me—“made yourself come with a snowman-shaped vibrator?”

“Look, mister, I don’t need your judgment,” I said hotly.

I took a big swallow of my coffee and licked the whipped cream off my mouth.

“I was trying to be not like my sister,” I said, cutting off a big hunk of Rudolph’s head and shoving it in my mouth, the whipped cream, currant custard, and chocolate cake doing very little to calm my frayed nerves. “Kelly started having sex when she was thirteen. Convinced one of the teacher’s pets to do it with her in an empty classroom. His parents flipped out and showed up at the house. Kelly lapped up the attention and made everyone think she was pregnant. My mom and dad sat me down and read me the riot act about how sex can ruin your life and that I needed to wait until marriage. They begged me to have some self-control because they couldn’t have two children going off the rails. I was just trying to be a good daughter.”

The server came back over.

Hudson was still staring at me, horrified, through his fingers.

“Could I have a Candy Cane Crunch Frappuccino?” I asked the waitress.

“Can I have another Christmas Spirit?” Hudson asked the server. “But without the Christmas part? Just the spirit part.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “You can’t just have the alcohol by itself. We do have a rum-spiked eggnog cheesecake. I can put extra rum on it for you.”

“I’ll take it,” Hudson said.

“Look, Sugarplum,” he began when the server was safely out of earshot.

“Please don’t quit,” I begged.

“I wish I could quit,” he muttered then straightened up. “Part of the rules you agreed to were that you did what I say.”

I drained the rest of my coffee.

“I agreed to those terms before I knew what I was agreeing to,” I rasped out.

His silver eyes narrowed.

“Why can’t you just try harder to break up my sister and James?” I wheedled. “I saw the way she was all over you this morning.”

“Kelly wants the hunt,” he said simply. “If I sleep with her now, she’ll just whine and cry to your parents and James that it was a mistake, that the bad boy seduced her. I bet she turns it around and blames you somehow. No, we need to make it spectacular, irrefutable, then we hack the AV system and play the video of her cheating on James at the wedding ceremony.”

My eyes bugged out like Pugnog’s.

“After the big explosion, you and I will get engaged at your sister’s reception. Maximum pain.”

“You’re evil,” I said after a moment.

“You in or out?”

“Does being in mean I have to … you know?” I was sweating. My tank top under my sweater was drenched.

Hudson’s face softened ever so slightly.

“I really don’t want to be the person to take your virginity. I’ve done a lot of bad things but … shit. I’ll figure something else out.”

“I’m pretty sure I can give you a hand job,” I offered. “I’m not totally inexperienced. One time James asked me to dress up in lingerie and humped my leg.”

Hudson growled low in his throat. “I’m going to fucking murder him.”

The server came by with the next round, winked at Hudson, and handed him a scotch.

“I think it’s only fair, considering all the community service you do.”

“Right,” I said faintly. “Are there veteran’s discounts here or something?”

“Not that. The photo.” The server winked at him again.

I slid down in my seat.

Hudson blinked and took in a deep, long breath.

“I am so sorry, Hudson,” I said my chin barely above the edge of the table. “I swear I didn’t send that photo to anyone.”

Hudson twisted his neck, cracking it.

“Gosh, I’m a terrible person,” I babbled. “I shouldn’t have shown anyone. I am so sorry.”

“That was the point of the photo,” he said, voice tense. “To prove to your family that we were the real deal.”

“It was still wrong of me. I should have kept better control.”

I pulled out my phone. “I bet Violet freaking forwarded it to herself. She is getting coal in her Christmas stocking,” I promised. “Oh fuck.”

He gave me a questioning look.

“Fuck, fuck,” I said as I scrolled through the phone. I had a thousand missed calls and messages.

“I’m hours late for decorating. Everyone is so mad at me. Oh my gosh. What am I going to do?” I wailed, wishing I could just go home and hide except …

“I forgot about the vegan eggnog.” I stuffed a big forkful of Hudson’s cheesecake in my mouth.

“What the—”

“You don’t like desserts,” I said hysterically. “And I need this cheesecake.”

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