My Hot Holiday
 I can't quite believe that I'm stuck in this situation.
    "Look, I love you both.  But, you need to get it together.  I can't be the one saving you from your own demise."
    I manage to recompose myself by the time Mom and Dad begin to apologize to each other so I can make my quick exit.
    "We are sorry, dear.  We're sorry if we ruined your Christmas Eve," Mom says with the face of a guilt-ridden child.
    "It's okay...it's okay," I say calmly.
    "But, I think this marks my exit.  I must go and see my...see my...um...see my boyfriend!"
    As they both look at me in surprise, I toss my hair back, reach down for my bags in my old bedroom, and take off, full of a sudden exhilaration.
    "Merry Christmas...see you in the morning..." I yell out over my shoulder as I head for the door.
    "I will be back with his present in the morning," I toss out as a final parting.
    "We love you, honey," Mom chirps out behind me as I head for the door.
    “Be safe!”
    I wave a hand without turning and give the front door a gentle, yet commanding tug and shimmy my bag-toting body through the door jamb.  Whew!  I lean back against the door in relief.  That’s one fire out.  Now should I try to start another?
     
     

Chapter 3: Game Time  
     
     
    I sit in the car enjoying my thoughts and the silence looming outside of my parents’ house.  Jake Sterns pops into my thoughts before I can stop him...his lips -- his smell -- God, his chiseled chest.  I become woozy with lust.  I drop my head into the steering wheel and allow myself to close my eyes for just a minute.  My head is filled with memories of his swirling tongue and the hardness of his arousal.  Maybe it's the 23 months of celibacy causing my loss of control...12 lonely months divorced and the other 11 -- thanks to Scott's "hectic schedule."  I do the math in my head, have I REALLY been dried up for 23 months?!
    Either way, I need to get out of here.  I turn the ignition, crank the heater, and hit reverse.
    Visions of his chocolate-colored eyes are pulsating through my head, like a CD stuck on a skip.  As I drive to the cabin, I feel no clearer in the head.  I round the last curve just a mile from Mom and Dad's house, and I see the cabin.  It's perfect.  Utter beauty!  It's a love shack, if I've ever seen one.
    I speed up the long gravel driveway, throw the car into park, grab my bag and push back the icy white gate.  I see the neighbor's flood light come on, probably wondering if I'm a Christmas burglar.  Quickly I fumble up the ankle-deep, snow-covered walkway, trying to look as though I come here all the time.  As I turn the key and push open the door, I'm floored.  The family room reminds me of a ski resort.  With floor-to-ceiling windows on three sides of the room, daylight will most definitely be eye candy with views of the snow covered lake behind the house.  A soaring fireplace made of natural stone dominates the rest of the house.  I picture Jake starting the fire and getting REALLY cozy on the leather sofas.  I quickly savor just how special, almost mystical, it feels to be spending Christmas in a cabin, even if I am alone.  Questions dance in my mind like bubbles in a pot of boiling water.
    A jolt of energy shoots through me, as I bounce myself onto the bed and stare at the seven digits he wrote in blue ink just hours before.
    It's game time.  Now or never!  I can come up with a million reasons not to call Jake, but life is too short, I tell myself.  And then there's the fact that I've become a hypocrite.  Ugh.  No one wants to admit that!
    Suddenly, my memory bank of quotes surfaces and I realize, as a former relationship columnist, I should start taking my own advice.
    "Your past does not equal your future.” That one’s from Tony Robbins, my personal favorite.
    "Life is too important to be taken seriously.” Oscar Wilde was so wise.
    “Just do it!”  Wait, isn't that Nike's slogan?
    Dial the number Jillian...
    I glare at the phone with panic
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