The One Final Rule (Holiday Rules #1)

Chapter 1

September the food and the staff make it worth it to come all the way out here for lunch, even if it’s only once a week.

“Also…hanging out with my sister much? Twatwaffle?” He chuckles, that deep, throaty sound reverberating through the quaint space and my damn body.

It doesn’t matter that I’ve known Mateo my whole life, friends since elementary school.

The way my body reacts to him, like it’s something new and exciting every single time, should be studied.

“Livie’s bad influence is rubbing off on you,” Mateo continues when I shrug, holding his bag of chips my way, offering to share while I wait for my food.

“I hang out with your sister as much as I usually do, thank you very much. But I do love her word choices all the time.” Ms. Kim brings out our food, her face stretched in an I love you like my grandchild smile.

“I brought extra broccoli salad for you, Mateo. I know how much you like it.” She pats Mateo’s back after giving him an exaggerated wink, and I raise my eyebrow at him.

“Since when do you love broccoli salad that much?” I ask, lowering my voice and hoping a very sneaky Ms. Kim doesn’t hear me.

Yes, Mateo orders broccoli salad almost every time, but I end up eating it mostly on my own.

This boy can eat a lot, but somehow, when we come here, he always leaves plenty left over.

I’ve always wondered why he keeps ordering that particular salad if he won’t eat it.

“I’ve always liked it. I just get full before I can eat it all and you steal it.” I reach over with my fork, picking up a piece of the broccoli, and popping it into my mouth. I shrug and continue eating my food instead of his.

“I don’t know who said a girl can’t have it both ways—I get to order my favorite pasta salad and then still eat all your broccoli one. It’s a win-win.”

“You know I won’t judge if you order an extra broccoli salad.

” He flashes his bright smile, and I lose my train of thought.

I wish this feeling, the butterflies in my stomach when Mateo smiles at me, would disappear, but it never ends.

It never goes away. He smiles at me, and everything stops, all the time.

“Why are we still talking about broccoli salad?” I ask, eager to change the topic.

“You love it, and I want to talk about all the things you love.”

“Do you know what else I love?” I point my fork at him. “Rituals and routine.”

“Oh, not again,” he groans. He’s referring to the temper tantrum I’ve been throwing over Mateo leaving me this Christmas to go with his family to the Dominican Republic.

“I just don’t understand why you have to go.

You don’t want to, and I haven’t spent Christmas Eve without you since…

well, ever.” My mom never really loved Christmas.

She never liked any holiday, for that matter.

She only celebrated Earth Day and our birthdays in the most bizarre ways: something relating to bees for my sister Bee, and something related to flowers for me.

‘In honor of your namesakes’, she would say.

So, when I met Mateo’s family on the sidewalk after school, I asked if I could come.

Mom shrugged her shoulders, and I’ve never spent Christmas Eve or Christmas without them.

I take a bite of my chicken salad sandwich, closing my eyes and trying to settle my breathing.

The last thing I need is to sound clingy.

Oh crap, I’m probably ovulating. That’s why I’m so emotional and so…

I don’t know…sensitive. It always affects me so much— the hormone imbalance.

It took me years to even figure out what was happening, but once I got the PCOS diagnosis, it made sense.

“I’m sorry, I—”

“You don’t have to apologize, Daisy,” Mateo interrupts.

“But if you relax and take more than one breath per second, I can answer one of your questions.” He offers me a sideways smile as he reaches over the table to hold my hand, drawing circles on the top.

“I did try to get out of going, but my mother called to tell me Jaime is getting married.”

I drop my food on the plate. “Jaime, as in your cousin Jaime?”

He nods.

“Jaime your cousin, the one dating the evil witch?”

“Daisy,” he sighs.

“What? It’s true. I hate her and she hates me, so I don’t even feel bad about it.” Violeta—Mateo’s ex, who he proposed to two years ago, who said no and then started dating his cousin.

“She doesn’t hate you.” Mateo, the forever peace maker.

“She hated me. You can’t lie about that. But back to the problem at hand… What did your mom say?”

He clears his throat. “Well, Jaime is getting married. He proposed last week, I believe. She said yes, and since the whole thing is a family reunion, they decided to get married there. Her uncle owns the resort or something.”

“On Christmas?”

He nods.

“Your favorite holiday?” I ask.

“It’s not.”

“Why are you contradicting me on everything today, Teo? You fucking love Christmas.” I take a sip of my drink and smile fondly at Ms. Kim and Ms. Anna, who look at us with concern. “You’re not going, right?” This time, I whisper.

He lets out a breath while he traces his face with his hand. “I have to. I don’t have a choice. It’ll be miserable, but I’ll be fine. I’m gonna miss you, though. First Christmas without you since we were, like, seven.”

“You were seven. I was four, thank you very much. You’re not going to miss me because I’m going.” What? Sometimes I surprise myself with the shit that comes out of my mouth.

“You can’t go.”

“Are you telling me you don’t want me to go?”

“No, not at all. I just…the tradition is that the only plus ones are spouses or significant others. I’m not gonna drag you to the Dominican Republic just to spend a bunch of time by yourself. I know how much you hate that.”

He’s not wrong. Even when I want quiet time, I like to be around him and our friends. I hate feeling alone, even if I’m not lonely. And I never feel alone when I’m with him.

“What if I come to the actual wedding too?” I take a sip of my sweet tea.

“I already told you, it has to be a spouse or significant other. It’s ridiculous, but still, I can’t just be like, oh yeah, I’m bringing Daisy as my plus one and we’re dating now.”

Aaaaand the sweet tea goes down the wrong pipe, making me cough.

Mateo’s eyes go wide. “Are you okay?” He stands and pats my back as if I were a baby—like that’s going to help.

“I’m fine.” I clear my throat.

“I was kidding, obviously.” He goes back to his seat, taking the last bite of his food.

I toss the idea around my head. Could it work?

Could we pretend we’re dating so we don’t spend our holidays apart and so he doesn’t have to go to the wedding from hell by himself?

But what does Mateo want? His family never asks him.

His job never asks him. He’s never putting himself first, always trying to keep others happy instead.

“What do you want?” I ask.

“Right now? To not talk about my ex’s wedding.”

“I know, I know, but you have to. What do you want?” I press.

He thinks about it, searching my eyes. Maybe he’s searching for answers, but I have none. I want him to tell me what he wants. He sighs. “To spend Christmas with my best friend, as usual.”

“Okay, then look at me. You have two choices here. You can take me with you and go to the wedding to make your mom happy…or you can just not go. Stand up to your mother and say fuck you all, bitches!”

“Daisy...” Mateo shakes his head.

“Miss Daisy!” Ms. Kim shouts from behind the deli case. She’s always telling me to watch my language.

“Sorry, sorry. I got carried away.” I shrug apologetically and look at my best friend, a smirk on his face.

I lower my voice. “Sorry. Anyway, you have choices here. Just make one.”

“And what? Bring you and then leave you to spend the rehearsal, wedding, and the noche buena dinner by yourself?”

“No, silly. We pretend we’re dating.” This time, Mateo is the one practically choking.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll call Ms. Ada, tell her you’re bringing a plus one, and we’ll pretend we’re dating each other. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.” I sit back in my chair and cross my legs in victory.

“You can’t be serious, Daze.”

“I am one hundred percent serious. It won’t be that hard. I already know you better than anyone else. It will be so much fun!” Daisy, what are you thinking? It will be so much fun? Fake dating the man you’ve always loved?

“You’d do that?” he asks, almost shyly. “It’s such a big sacrifice. I don’t want you to do this just to make sure I’m not alone.”

“What’s a big sacrifice? Spending time with you? Laughing with you? Going swimming with you? Things I do willingly all the time. Add doing all that in the Dominican Republic and pissing off Violeta? Sounds like child’s play to me.”

I should get an award for this performance. My words carry a strength and steadiness that my heart doesn’t share. I’m both giddy and terrified, but I can’t let him know. If he finds out I’m nervous, he’ll say no, and he’ll be miserable watching that harpy twat marry his cousin.

He sits back, pushing his plate forward like it will hurt him, letting me steal the rest of his broccoli salad. He doesn’t reply. He just sits and waits for something. Whatever it is, I don’t want to overthink it, so I continue eating the salad like my heart isn’t skipping beats in my chest.

“But also, Teo, you don’t have to decide anything right now. Offer stands. You have four months to figure it out. Just keep me posted, yeah?”

He nods, gladly taking the change in conversation, waiting for me like he always does.