Page 148 of Almost Ours

I’m not taking the Hollis’ Christmas too.

“I’ll come to yours.” I tell her. “Let me go and pack a bag.”

Ruby beams at me. “Excellent choice.”

I start to get out the car, pausing when I’m stood on the gravel of the road. “We’ll need to find a shop so I can get your mum some kind of present.”

Ruby leans over the gearstick. “She loves this bottle of red you can get from Asda. We’ll go there.”

“Great.” I close the door and turn, striding towards the house, feeling like I’m massively imposing but desperate to spend more time with Ruby.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Friday

December 25th 2015

Ruby:

I’m in love with Josh.

I think I’ve known for a while, but the thought only really solidifies at the end of Christmas Day, after he’s won Uno for the fifth time and made Mum, Oscar and Emma laugh so much that Oscar has threatened to throw him out twice.

He’s sitting cross-legged on the rug in front of the sofa, smugly laying down another Draw Four while Oscar calls him a cheating prick, and I’m curled into the corner with a glass of wine watching him laugh. Head tipped back, eyes crinkled, completely unguarded in a way I don’t see very often, and the realisation washes over me.

I love him.

I love him. I love him. I love him.

Mum wanders back in from the kitchen carrying another bowl of crisps and starts fussing because Josh’s glass is empty. “You want another one, love?”

Josh shakes his head. “I’m okay, thanks.”

“You sure? There’s plenty.”

“Mum,” Oscar groans. “He can pour his own drink. Let the man breathe.”

Mum holds her hands up. “I was only asking.”

Oscar rolls his eyes. “You’ve been feeding him since seven this morning.”

“He’s a guest.” Mum clips Oscar gently around the head. “I treat my guests well.”

“He’s eaten more food than all of us combined. He’ll be rolling out the front door.”

Josh points a Uno card at him. “You’re bitter because you’re losing.”

“I’m bitter because you’re a cheating prick.”

“Oscar!” Mum snaps, her voice the same one from when we were little that would have us running and hiding.

“What?” Oscar takes another sip of wine. “It’s Christmas.”

Mum tuts, looking very displeased. “That doesn’t make it festive language.”

Emma bursts out laughing and Josh looks over at me, grinning, while Oscar gets to his feet and follows mum out to the kitchen, arguing about why swearing is culturally British and therefore appropriate at Christmas.

My eyes catch Josh’s and the emotion filters through me from my scalp to my toes.