Member-only story
Mistletoe Kisses
Make these moments too good to forget.
From the age of twelve, Hazel had been trying to get her perfect mistletoe kiss from a boy she could call her own. The first unfortunate boy had been Tyler Sheldon, his eyes going wide when he saw the familiar cluster of sprigs and berries hanging above his head, only for Hazel to close her eyes and stand on her toes. But all she managed to do was mash noses with Tyler before he spluttered out a few words and dashed away, never to grace Hazel’s vicinity again afterward.
By age sixteen — with a handful more disasters behind her, mostly involving unwilling boys who wanted to kiss other girls instead — Hazel thought her dream was dying a slow and mortifying death.
Her mother had always told her not to chase boys, but of course Hazel had never listened.
Maybe it was the effect of consuming too many Hallmark Christmas movies in her younger days, or perhaps Hazel was just a tad too hopeless rather than outright romantic. But always in the back of her mind was the idea of a small snowy town, filled with idyllic shops where mistletoe was a given and not an eccentricity — and where men would find her quirky and endearing rather than odd and unappealing.
Then Hazel, age twenty-five and still without that soft kiss perfectly timed under mistletoe, decided to…
