Girl You Fucked Before (18+)

Merry Freaking Christmas

Addison

"Nice pj's Matt," I retorted sarcastically, eyeing him up and down as I tossed my purse onto the island and took a seat on one of the barstools. "Just when I think you two can't get any more cringe-worthy, I walk in here and find that you've both managed to outdo yourselves."

Matt flicked some flour in my direction, and I shrieked when it sprinkled down upon my freshly curled hair, coating my raven locks in a snow of white. "I hate you, Matthew!" I yelled, furiously shaking out my tendrils.

Grinning, he came up behind me and wrapped both of his arms around my shoulders. He propped his chin in the crook of my neck as he whispered into my ear, "Aw, come on Addie, where's your Christmas spirit?"

"I think I left it back at the North Pole along with whatever shred of dignity you had left," I grumbled beneath my breath.

He rolled his eyes before planting a wet smack on my cheek. "Don't be such a Grinch."

"I'm not," I replied, leaning forward, and picking up a heart-shaped sugar cookie with red frosting. "I just refuse to celebrate your dorkiness."

I began to stuff the baked good into my mouth when Matt swatted my hand with a spatula. "Hey! Hey! Put that down!"

My chest immediately tightened at the thought of almost accidentally consuming poison, and I dropped the treat onto the counter with a panic. "What's wrong with it?"

Matt gave me a dirty look as he dusted the cookie off and cradled it as though it were baby Jesus himself. "Nothing. It's just not for you. I decorated it specifically for Vanessa."

"Oh...for Vanessa," I mimicked in a nasally voice. He handed her the goodie and she nearly melted into the linoleum like she was the stick of butter Matt was stirring into the batter of flour, egg, and sugar.

"That is so thoughtful," she gushed, placing a kiss on his cheek as he beamed at me. "Gold star for you."

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. Spinning away from them in my barstool, I focused on anything other than the slurping sounds coming from them proceeding to make out. "Hey," I interjected. "Remember when you two weren't dating and I wasn't constantly nauseous whenever we were all in the same room together? Wasn't that fun?"

"Sorry," Vanessa mumbled sheepishly, the tips of her ears burning. She swiped an empty egg carton off the counter, tossing it across the room and into the trash.

The cardboard box sank into the wastebasket and Matt immediately swept her off her feet, spinning her around. "And the crowd goes wild," he softly roared.

Vanessa giggled as though he had just come out with the most hysterical one-liner, and I grimaced. God, he is so lame sometimes.

Sliding off the barstool, I snatched a gingerbread cookie from a baking sheet and began glopping white frosting on it. It wasn't until I had doused the treat in a mound of green sprinkles, did Vanessa look at me with sheer horror on her face. "Addie!" She shrieked, covering her mouth. "We were saving those for our gingerbread house."

"Sorry," I mumbled through a mouthful of gingerman leg. Poor guy. "How was I supposed to know?" It tastes like shit anyways. I immediately spit the sugary concoction out into a napkin. "These are awful. Matt, did you have a hand in making these?"

"As a matter of fact, I did." He picked up a gingerbread treat and inspected it, concern furrowing his brows.

Coming up behind him, I placed a hand on his shoulder. "Did nobody ever tell you that the dirt, rock, and stick pies we used to make as kids isn't an actual recipe?"

He glanced over and arched a brow, a hint of a smile on his lips. "And didn't anyone ever tell you that paint is meant to stay on a canvas and not smeared all over your face?"

"It's called make-up, Matthew," I scolded, wagging my finger. "Which is an actual product they sell in the store. Unlike those death cookies that you are trying to feed to the general public. Is the Grim Reaper attempting to get festive with how he collects his souls?"

He stepped in closer towards me. "I-"

"Love this song!" Vanessa cut in, joyfully clapping her hands before turning up the volume dial on the radio. The beginning notes to Rockin Around the Christmas Tree blared throughout the kitchen and Matt turned his attention to her. His eyes glowed with affection when she did a little shimmy, our game of back and forth immediately forgotten.

He clasped his fingers in between hers and pressed his forehead to her temples as they began to sway to the music together. A hearty laugh of delight bubbled out of her mouth and my jaw nearly dropped to the floor. The same Matt who swore he would never dance was busting a move with her right in the middle of the kitchen.

Scoffing, I grabbed a stocking-shaped cookie cutter and pressed it into a ball of chocolate chip dough. I can make cookies without them. I prefer it. Matt won't be constantly getting in my way and there's no risk of Vanessa stirring a strand of her hair into the batter.

But my gaze continued to wander back towards my friends canoodling and rubbing their noses together in the throes of new romance. The aroma of sugary baked goods wafted into my nostrils and from the living room, the Christmas tree glittered in a warm incandescent glow. It certainly felt as though it were Christmas so why was I suddenly overcome with the desire to whip out my inner Scrooge?

After the song ended, Matt pulled a baking sheet of snowman figured treats out of the oven. He proceeded to sprinkle one with blue sugar crystals before feeding it to Vanessa. "Merry Christmas, my love," He cooed. "For you."

Spots on a cheetah. How many freaking cookies does this girl get dedicated to her? How sickening. Matt had officially buttered my roll and popped my popcorn.

Picking up a wet rag, I began scrubbing feverishly at a miniscule speck of dried frosting on the counter. This mess isn't going to clean itself and clearly neither of them have any intention of doing it. Nope. They are obviously too busy hopping around the kitchen in their dumb matching pajama set. They look ridiculous.

I bet this whole thing was all Vanessa's idea and Matt only went along with it because he's so stupidly in love with her. He probably despises that she made him wear such a silly get-up. Maybe he will harbor resentment towards her over it and they'll break up and I won't be subjected to the Vanessa show anymore. When did our trio become a duo with a secret club that I wasn't invited to anyways?

Maybe Addison wants to dress in ugly Christmas pj's and dance around to obnoxious holiday music. Maybe Addison wants to gobble down a frosted cookie with extra sprinkles and then complain that Matt force fed her too many extra calories. Did they ever think about that? Huh? So, what? Because I'm not his girlfriend, my opinions and feelings just stop mattering to him? I continued to rub at the spot with fervor, silently fuming and unaware that the stain had long since been scrubbed clean.

Until Matt came over and gently removed the towel from my hand. "Easy, killer. You're going to wear a hole right through the countertop and how am I going to explain that one to my dad?"

"Sorry for trying to help!" I snapped, knocking over a jar of sprinkles, and sending the multi-colored crystals scattering across the floor. "My apologies for not being perfect like your girlfriend."

I snatched a snowman treat from a festive ceramic plate, accidentally snapping its head off in the process. My face reddening, I smeared a large mound of frosting on what was left of the body. "I'll make my own damn cookie then!"

Matt and Vanessa exchanged bewildered looks. "That's not how I meant it, Addie," he replied weakly.

"Forget it!" I shouted, slamming down the butter knife. "Clearly, I'm intruding on your special night." I chucked the snowman at Matt's chest, smirking when it left behind a nice red stain on his pajama top. Then grabbing my purse off the counter with a huff, I stomped towards the front door. "By the way," I called, pausing. "You two look really foolish in those matching outfits."

"Merry Freaking Christmas!" I shouted into the swirls of snowflakes dotting the inky sky, slamming the door behind me, and rattling the jingle bells on the wreath nailed to the center of the wood.