His Christmas brat POV: Jessa“I’m not doing Christmas this year.”I mutter it while tossing clothes into my red weekender bag, folding nothing, dancing in nothing but a thong and an old college tee that barely covers my ass. Mariah’s hitting her high notes through my speaker like she’s personally sick of my seasonal depression. The plan? Solo winter break. Just me, a few bottles of Moscato, and some emotionally stunted men on Netflix.Then the door slams open like a DEA raid.“Pumpkin!”I shriek, nearly twisting my ankle trying to hide my ass with a pillow.My dad barrels in, smelling like celebration and midlife crisis. His cheeks are flushed, and he’s holding a glass of something that screams expensive and unfiltered. “Guess what! Me and Kathy—” cue the violent eye twitch, “—we’re heading to Europe for the holidays. Surprise honeymoon! Paris, Rome, that place with the boats.”I blink. “Venice?”He points at me like I just unlocked a new level in a video game. “That’s the one!”I p
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