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She’s cozy in jeans and a sweater, hair pulled back in a single messy bun. Her toes wiggle in fuzzy socks as she folds her arms over her chest, avoiding looking directly at me.
“How goes decorations?” I ask, putting aside my task at hand.
She shrugs, “Same as every year. Popcorn garland, too much mistletoe, Santa hats, stockings, etc.”
“My stocking still intact?” I chuckle knowingly.
“Why wouldn’t it be? Have you been using it for naughty things again?” Her eyes cut me down a size as she glances my way, lips dancing playfully in a teasing grin.
My face flushes hot, and that’s not hard for a ginger to do, and I bite my tongue. “I did that one time,” I grumble, rubbing the back of my head now realizing I started this conversation and she’s going to keep it going torturing me in the worst and best ways. I shove my hands in my jeans’ pockets.
“And I can’t believe you did it,” she giggles.
“It was a dare!”
One that I will never live down. Being dared to use my stocking like an unfortunate receptacle for a hormonal, excitable, teenage boy who had fantasies about the girl in the next room. And then being caught by the girl in the next room—Jordan—while I did the dirty, will live in infamy. I ended up with blue balls and a red face from embarrassment.
Teenage boys will do stupid things for twenty bucks.
“Still, to go through with it… Tsk, tsk, tsk. I bet you’re still on the naughty list for it.”
I straighten up, puffing out my chest after I grab two drinks from the fridge. “I’ll have you know, Jojo,” I purr, “I’m on the naughty list for much more impressive reasons.”
Her brows shoot up on her forehead as they always do when she quietly questions me.
“Maybe you could let me show you sometime…” I add and look back to see her mouth open as I head back upstairs.
I’m playing a dangerous game, flirting with her more and more each time I see her. Kaidan is my best friend…calling his sister hot irritates him as it is, him knowing I want her as badly as I do, would surely mean the death of me.
The wrath might be worth it.
CHAPTER3
Jordan
“I’m not your DD,” I warn Kaidan as we arrive to the pub for the Christmas party. Mom and Dad are already inside, setting up and chatting with their close friends, the owners. It’s the only way we manage to rent out of the pub during a busy time of year.
“What?!” Kaidan exclaims, struggling with his seatbelt. “But you drove me here?”
“Your date is meeting you here.” I shove my car into Park as the exclamation point. “Plus you and your friends are going to end up cruising clubs and getting shitfaced and I’m not going to be your bail out call at four in the morning. I will be in bed, sleeping off a healthy dose of eggnog.”
He scowls and slams my car door.
It feels wrong not being the reliable one but after a lecture from my mother this morning about how wonderfully Kaidan is doing in school and his future-doctor slash future-wife, I didn’t want to hold his hand tonight. I want to drink.
I want to drink eggnog till I’m sick. I won’t drive if I actually do get there, it’s unlikely it’ll happen. I don’t let my hair down often, but my baby brother can fly the coop on his own tonight. I’m focusing on me, and that’s my Christmas gift to myself.
The pub is already lively as I enter. Kaidan rushes over to a blonde at the bar, wearing a green velvet dress, with gold jewelry. They share a chaste kiss and I commend him internally for his attentiveness.
Ugh, great. I’m jealous of my brother.
I’m two shots deep and sipping on an Irish coffee, when I hear the familiar warm vibrations of Briar’s voice rolling down my spine like I’ve just had a shot of spicy tequila. “Hey, Jojo.”
“Briar,” I greet equally warmly.
The last words he spoke to me yesterday sat with me all night. Another contributing factor to me wanting to separate myself from playing mother hen to my brother and his friends. I don’t want to be Briar’s surrogate savior either.
His honeycomb gaze glides over me and I suck in my stomach reactively, not that the softness of my tummy is going anywhere. I chose a white cashmere sweater and a plaid green and red skirt, with opaque tights to help protect my assets from the shortness of it. It’s technically a family Christmas party, sexy isn’t generally the theme. The plaid skirt matches my plaid Santa hat, waiting for me when the festivities begin.
