Frost My Snowman (Naughty Christmas in July)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

Holly

“Oh my god, I can’t believe we pulled this off.” I grin at Celine, and she mirrors my expression.

“Right? We need to celebrate. Let’s get our drink on.”

We’ve just arrived at Oliver’s end-of-year bonfire party at Hartbeespoort Dam. Celine’s uncle owns a holiday home here and said we could spend the night. Total score! Giddy, I look around. This is going to be an epic night. Out on the water, people are jet-skiing, others are sitting around the bonfire drinking, smoking, and chatting. A few others are making out. Everyone is relaxed and having a great time.

I lock arms with Celine, and we head toward the drinks table where Oliver wastes no time giving both of us an appraising look.I’m used to guys checking Celine out. She’s gorgeous. Blonde, green eyes, the perfect hour-glass figure, megawatt smile with the personality to match. But I’m rarely on the receiving end of this kind of once-over. Gotta say, I kind of like it.

“Ladies, I didn’t think you’d make it.”He takes off his cap and bows to us with a flourish before setting his Iron Maiden cap back on his dark hair.

“Don’t underestimate the power of being ‘Little Miss Perfect’.” Celine makes air quotes, and her words give me a twinge of guilt, but I bank it down. Sure, I lied to my parents, who believed me because I am “the perfect child”. The thing is, I’m sick of it. I constantly have to abide by their impossible standards, all the while they are by far the worst examples of model behaviour.Besides, it’s only one night. And they think I’m sleeping over at Celine’s. Technically, I am. I just happen to be in another province.

My guilt threatens to spoil my mood, but I shrug it off. There’s no damn way I’m letting them ruin this night for me. I need this, especially after finding out that Ben cheated on me with Tabitha.

Skank.

Tonight is all about letting my hair down and living a little. To hell with everyone and their rules.

“Less talk, more tequila!” I demand, slamming my hand on the table.

“Yeah, baby! That’s the spirit,” Celine cheers.

“I’m loving this new Holly.” Oliver grins. From the way those dark blue eyes rake over me, he’s not kidding. A thrill shoots through me. Oliver is one of the most popular guys at school, and he has charm in spades. He knows he’s gorgeous—he’d have to be pretty damn stupid not to with the way everyone trips over themselves to be around him and his olive skin, dark hair, and athletic body—so I get a kick out of him paying attention to me. I’ve always been told I’m pretty or beautiful or whatever adjective fit, but the thing is, unless you feel that way, you can hear it a zillion times and it won’t make a difference. We’re not the richest family. We make ends meet, but sometimes things get tough. Real tough. Last year, we lived at the local Salvation Army shelter for six months. Before that, my brother worked two jobs to put food on the table—when he wasn’t in school. So, when it comes to the latest fashion or trends or anything new for that matter, I’m not going have it. When Celine bought me this skintight dress that barely covers my ass for my birthday, I actually felt like I was beautiful. Hell, I feel sexy.

Oliver slides the shot glasses to us, and I clink mine against Celine’s. A tiny drop of alcohol slides down my glass and, without thinking, I lick it up.

Oliver hisses. “Fuck, Holly, you can’t do stuff like that.”

“Don’t be that guy, Ollie.” I roll my eyes, but inside I’m begging my cheeks not to pinken.

“Cheers,” I say as Celine and I slam back the drinks.

“Another, kind sir,” she requests.

Ollie obliges.“What about you, gorgeous?”

“Why the hell not.” He pours me another and I slam it back too. Tequila is nasty, but damn does it get the job done. My insides feel deliciously warm, and I want to dance. I don’t want to waste a single second of my freedom.

“Beautiful People” by Marilyn Manson comes on, and Celine squeals as she grabs my arms. “I love this song.”

I laugh. “I know.”

Celine and I have been friends since nursery school. Her parents immigrated around the same time my parents did—many Scottish families did at that time. The mines in South Africa needed qualified people, and a lot of families jumped at the chance of living in a brighter, warmer country at the time. All the Scots families became a close-knit community because they wanted to keep that sense of home.

We start jumping up and down, and although I think Marilyn Manson is six shades of sketchy—and I’m not even talking about his rib-removal rumour to suck himself off—I do like the song.

Lost in the rhythm, I gather my long, brown hair—which has no doubt turned into a frizzy mess—up into a messy bun and let the music consume me. I don’t have to worry about last night or tomorrow. All I want to think of is how good the bass feels thumping through my body. About midway through the song, hands claim my hips, and I look back to see Oliver’s lopsided grin. “Dance with me.”

“Seems like I already am.”

He spins me around and pulls me flush against his body. I can feel his erection against me. My stomach does a happy flip. I’ve never felt so desirable. Oliver isn’t the kind of guy who’d give a girl a happily-ever-after, but a little flirting never hurt. Don’t get me wrong, my ex, Ben would also make his intentions towards me clear, but he was more about the destination and not the journey. When I didn’t give up my V-card, he found someone who was willing to give him what I wasn’t prepared to.

“I’m going to go get another drink. Want one?”Celine yells when the song ends and another pumps through the speakers.

“Beer, please, Cece.”

“Coming right up!”

Ollie leans in, his mouth against my ear. “When did you become so fucking sexy?”

The question feels rhetorical, so I don’t answer. I close my eyes and keep dancing, getting lost in the rhythm.

“Holly?”

At the sound of the familiar voice, my eyes flash open. The second I meet Aaron’s chocolate brown ones, heat unlike anything I’ve ever experienced envelops me. Well, that’s not entirely true. Every single time I’m around Aaron Walker, I get a thrill, a tingle of awareness that sends a zing of fire straight to my core.

“Aaron? Hey.” I step out of Ollie’s hold and launch myself into Aaron’s arms. “When did you get back?”My brother’s best friend and his parents were supposed to be spending the December school holidays in Scotland to catch up with family. They haven’t been back to visit since they immigrated to South Africa four years ago, and I wasn’t expecting him for another couple of weeks.

“What’s going on, Holly?”His jaw is tight, and those gorgeous eyes of his are narrowed into thin slits.

I frown. “Uh…what do you mean?”

“What’s this?” He gestures to the bonfire and people milling about.

“It’s a party?” I drag out the words with a lilt at the end as if I’m unsure. I’m a straight-A student, but I can’t understand what Aaron’s on about.

At that moment, Cece arrives with our drinks. She hands me the beer, oblivious to the tension. Aaron grabs it before I can. “You’re drinking now?”

“It’s a party, Aaron.” What crept up his butt?

He dumps the drink out next to a tree. “And you’re only sixteen.”

“Actually, I just turned seventeen. In case you forgot, it’s my birthday,” I sass.

His hand curls around my bicep. “Happy birthday, let’s go.”

I tug my arm back. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Does your brother know you’re here?”

“No. Are going to tell him?”

“Are you going to get in the car?”

I take a step back and cross my arms. Aaron and Ollie’s eyes land on my chest, because I’ve inadvertently created more cleavage—which is saying something because I don’t have much going on in the boob area. When Aaron realises he’s been staring, his gaze snaps back to mine, and boy, does he look pissed.

“I’m staying here with Cece tonight.”

“The fuck you are.”

Did the tequila wipe away all my brain cells? It must have because I have no clue what’s going on here. Aaron is usually so laid-back. I’ve known him since he and his family came to South Africa. Just as had happened with Celine, our families became fast friends. In fact, they were practically family. Not a weekend went by without us all hanging together. Spencer and Aaron became inseparable, and because my brother is so protective, I was always with them as well.

But where Spencer always had a stick up his butt, Aaron balanced him out, often telling my brother to cut me some slack. Spencer and Aaron do their fair share of partying. Sure, at nineteen, they’re legal now, but they started partying and drinking when they were much younger than I am now.

Ollie gets in Aaron’s face. “What’s your problem, Walker?”

Aaron ignores him. “Holly. Car. Now.”

I laugh nervously and shoot a look at Cece. She’s watching the two of us with an amused smile, and I don’t miss the appreciative glint in her eye when her gaze tracks over Aaron. I’m not going to lie, Aaron is the personification of hot but angry Aaron is off-the-charts volcanic.

I lift my chin. “I’m not leaving.”

“Holly, I’m not fucking playing. Either you get in my car or I’m tossing you over my shoulder.”

I narrow my eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Trust me, I’m in no fucking mood, and I most definitely will do anything it takes to get you away from here.”

I plant my hands on my hips. “What the hell has gotten into you? Are you afraid I’ll cramp your style? Don’t worry, I won’t get in the way of you getting laid.” Even saying the words makes my gut twist. I hate seeing Aaron with whatever flavour of the day he’s with. I glance at Celine. She shrugs, just as confused by all of this as I am.

“This has nothing to do with you cramping my style. You’re underage, barely dressed, and letting losers put their hands on you. Do your parents know where you are?”

Barely dressed? Is he for real? Except, his words hit their mark because now I feel so vulnerable I might as well be naked.

“You’re a jerk.”

“Yeah, and I’m prepared to be a bigger jerk and call your folks.”

Ollie shoves Aaron’s shoulder. “You heard her say she doesn’t want to leave with you, so back the fuck up, Walker.”

Aaron barely moves, but his eyes flick to the spot Oliver touched.

“Touch me again, and I’ll put you on your arse.” The Scottish accent he never quite lost is thicker now.

Oliver scoffs, then pulls back his fist and clocks Aaron on the jaw. Aaron’s head snaps back, but he recovers quickly. Grabbing Ollie by his shirt, he slams him against a nearby car, pressing Ollie’s back against the bonnet. “You must have a death wish.”

I rush to the car and shove Aaron back. “Stop. God, you’re an ass. And you’re bleeding.”

Aaron straightens and swipes a hand over his lip. His face turns murderous as he looks at Ollie, who is still sprawled out on the hood of the car. A crowd is forming. Nothing like the sight of a little blood to get mob mentality going.

I turn to Celine. “I think I better go. Are you going to stay?”

Guilt flashes over her face. “Would you mind?”

“Not at all.” I hug her. “Just be safe, okay?”

She nods and lowers her voice. “Looks like you brought a bit of caveman out in Aaron.”

“He’s acting like an idiot.”

“A hot idiot.”

I smile as butterflies race through my stomach. “It’s his only saving grace at this point.”

Celine laughs. “You better go before these guys climb into each other again.”

I pull her in for another hug. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

She winks at me. “I absolutely hope you’ll do something I would.”

“Let’s go, Holly.”

My grin slips, and I turn in the direction of Aaron’s voice, only to see him stalking off to his car.

Celine leans in. “I want all the juice when you get home.”

“You’ll be too drunk.”

“It will ease my hangover.”

Aaron slams his car door, cutting my laugh short. He can be as pissed as he likes because I am fuming right now. I count to ten before walking to the car—partly because I need a moment to calm down and partly because I refuse to feed his little ego by running off to his car because he told me to. He can damn well wait.

I tug at the safety belt and shove it into the lock with an unsatisfying soft click. My blood is boiling, and the last place I want to be is in Aaron’s car. Now that I’m here, though, sitting so close to him, with his anger pulsing off him in waves so that I can smell his delectable cologne, I’m not as mad anymore. Yeah, I’m weak.

I turn to face him. “What’s your problem? Why are you so mad?”

He blows out a breath and starts his car, pulling onto the road.

“You have no idea what guys Ollie’s age think about when they see a girl dressed the way you are. Dancing the way you were.”

I hiss out a breath. “Are you really going to sit there and lecture me about women having to dress and behave so jerks don’t have inappropriate thoughts?” My voice escalates with every word. “Stop the car.”

He flicks a quick glance at me before turning the corner. “What?”

“I said stop the fucking car!”

“Watch your language.”

“Watch my language? Who the hell do you think you are, huh? You and Spencer used to fall in drunk nearly every weekend. Conveniently at our house because my parents didn’t give a shit if you guys were drunk since they were wasted 99 percent of the time. You show up and embarrass me in front of my friends by acting all…all…” I throw my hands in the air. “I don’t even know how to explain your behaviour. And then you have the audacity to tell me I’m responsible for other people’s thoughts.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“It’s what you implied. Now, let me out of the car, or I swear I’ll call the cops.”

He smirks at me, and goddamn if it doesn’t make me dissolve into a puddle. I’ve had a crush on Aaron since I was thirteen and he was fifteen. We used to play kissing-catchers when the community centre had family picnics.Granted, I think the only reason Spencer and Aaron entertained such childish games was because it guaranteed being able to make out with girls their age—who also fussed about how childish the game was, and yet they all squealed like helpless damsels in distress. Including me.

I always slowed down to let Aaron catch me. He’d kiss me on the cheek, ruffle my hair, and it would make my entire night. As we grew up, my childish crush developed into more, but Aaron only ever saw me as Spencer’s little sister. So now, sitting in his car, having him treat me like I’m still that kid, hurts me to the core.

When he makes no move to slow down, I pull out my phone. “Try me and see.”

“Holly, you’re acting ridiculous.”

“And you’re acting like an asshole.”

“Can we just talk?” He pulls over to the shoulder, running a hand through his dark hair that looks almost black in the dark car.

The minute the car comes to a stop, I yank the door open and haul ass out the car.

“God-fucking-dammit!”

“Mind your language.” I shoot his words back at him over my shoulder. Now, I’m acting like a six-year-old, and it pisses me off.

“Holly, stop.” He jogs toward me. Thankfully, we’re still in the estate, so the roads are well lit and safe enough.

“Aaron, let me cool off, okay. Just get back in your car. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

I spin on my heels. “For God’s sake, Aaron. What the hell do you want?”

“This.”

He tugs me against his chest and wraps his arms around me. I resist at first because I’m so freaking mad at him and hurt and...

But then his lips brush mine. So softly, so briefly, that when he ends the kiss, I wonder if I imagined the whole thing.

“I’ve missed you, Trouble.”

I relax in his arms, resting my head against his shoulder. God, he smells so good.

“I’m sorry I was a jerk.”

I smile up at him. “I’m sorry you were a jerk too.”

His lips curl and he flicks my arm.

“Ouch, jerk.”

“Jerk seems to be your word of the day.”

“Chauvinism seems to be your mannerism.”

Something like regret flashes in his eyes. “I’m not saying it’s right. But I know what thoughts went through my mind when I saw you tonight, and I can guarantee you theirs were less gentlemanly.”

It feels like I’ve chugged a glass of salt. There is absolutely no moisture on my tongue, and the inside of my mouth is chalky.

“What were your thoughts?” I whisper.

He looks down at his feet, and that tells me he didn’t mean to say those words out loud.

“Tell me, Aaron.”

More regret.

A lick of his lips.

And a giant wall.

“It doesn’t matter now.”

I frown. “What does that mean?”

He rubs a hand over his face and stares off into the distance. “There are two reasons why I can’t tell you how I feel. One, Spencer will kill me, and I won’t do anything to jeopardise your relationship with your brother or my friendship with him, and two, we’re moving back to Scotland. It’s too late. I’m sorry.” He blows out a breath and takes a step back from me.

Too late for what? But then his words sink in. He’s moving back to Scotland.

Tears prick my eyes, and I blink them back. “What? Wait…when?”

“As soon as our house is sold. Mam’s lupus is getting worse and medical aid here is expensive.” His accent thickens as he becomes more emotional.

“I’m so sorry.” I don’t know what else to say. My heart is breaking for Mary, for Aaron, but it’s also shattering for me . Life won’t be the same when Aaron moves. He was only gone for two weeks, and I missed him like crazy. This must be why they came back early. To finalise things.

I squeeze him tight, and he wipes the tears sliding down my cheeks. “I’m going to miss you.”

“Me too, Trouble. Me too.