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They ran into each other in the large doorway between the living room and dining room, actually bumping into each other.
“Oops, sorry. Merry Christmas Eve,” he said, doing his bestnotto smile at her like he knew she had a plug holding his cum in her ass. His mouth suddenly felt weird on his face, like he’d forgotten how to make the expression.
“Merry Christmas Eve.” Juliet was better at it, she seemed entirely natural as she looked up at him.
“Oh hey, Orlando and Juliet are under the mistletoe! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Juliet’s cousin Amara started chanting. She’d recently turned twenty-one and it looked like she’d taken advantage of her birthday to partake in a few too many adult beverages. Probably because she didn’t know her limits.
Both he and Juliet jerked their heads back, looking up to realize that they were, indeed, under the mistletoe. Well, fuck.
Act normal, act normal, act normal.
The mistletoe was there every year. They were hardly the first to end up under it accidentally, though normally it was used by actual couples who were taking the excuse to kiss. All he had to do was do what every other family member had done when they’d ended up underneath it with someone they definitely shouldn’t be kissing romantically.
Clearing his throat, acutely aware of everyone’s eyes on them, Orlando dipped his head down to give her a kiss on the cheek. He could see some people nodding approvingly, Amara’s mom was trying to hush her, but Amara and some of the other younger cousins appeared disappointed.
“Give her a real kiss! You’re not actually related, you can do that!” Amara slid away from her mom, who threw her hands up in the air in exasperation as her oldest child’s antics.
“They’re still brother and sister, Amara, now cut it out.” Lawrence’s voice boomed across the room. He was standing in the opposite doorway, arms crossed over his chest, glaring disapprovingly at Amara. Beside him, Orlando’s mom was also frowning fiercely at Amara.
Immediately, the young woman slumped, as if realizing she was making a scene. Lawrence was her favorite uncle, and normally a very indulgent one, so his clear disapproval probably hit hard, even through the alcohol.
Next to Orlando, Juliet winced.
He felt an odd sensation in his chest. Not guilt, not regret, but a kind of shame, like he’d disappointed Lawrence. No, his stepfather wasn’t his biodad. No, Lawrence hadn’t raised him. But there was still that kernel inside him that looked up to the man, that wanted Lawrence to love him like a son.
Unfortunately, if Lawrence loved him like a son and Juliet was his daughter… fuck, fuck, fuck.
Well, if they’d wanted an indication of what their parents would think about them being together, it looked like they had it.
Merry fucking Christmas.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
JULIET
They didn’t go back to Orlando’s or to her and Brooke’s house; by mutual agreement they went to Black Light. Truthfully, Juliet didn’t think she could have gone to either home after that little scene at her dad and Mona’s.
She wanted to shake Amara, and at the same time, she felt bad for her cousin who hadn’t meant anything by it. She’d misjudged how much she could drink at Christmas Eve, which meant everyone was going to be both talking about and watching her tomorrow. Probably for the next few decades of family holidays, it would be brought up at some point.
But it had also ruined the high Juliet had been riding since Orlando had shown up.
Because everyone had been staring at them. Watching them. For one awful moment, she’d been sure that someone was going to say something, that they would scream out that she and Orlando had gone upstairs together. That they knew he’d fucked her ass in the guest bedroom. That his cum was still being held inside her by the plug.
And her dad and Mona’s reaction to Amara’s statement that they weren’t really related… fuck. Did they really see her and Orlando as siblings? They hadn’t been raised together. Both of them had been adults when her dad and Mona married. Sure, she’d barely been an adult, but it wasn’t like she and Orlando had ever lived together in that house.
“Let’s get a drink,” Orlando said grimly, one hand moving to the small of her back to propel her forward across the club, rather than wrapped around her neck the way he had been doing. Juliet felt the difference as much emotionally as she did physically, and she bit her lip because she didn’t know whether to say anything or not.
They were both reeling, and she didn’t know what was going through his head.
Wasn’t sure she really wanted to. He was touching her at least, but his demeanor was cold. Distant.
They’d agreed to come to Black Light to talk. The holiday party was in full swing. She’d seen the fliers up for it, advertising it as a party for those who didn’t have anywhere else to go for the holiday.
It wasn’t as busy as Saturday night during peak time, but it wasn’t exactly slow either. Apparently, there were a lot of people who didn’t have anywhere else to go. Or maybe they just wanted to be here. She saw more than one group of friends, obviously celebrating together.
She wished that was why she and Orlando had come here. But she knew the real reason —they hadn’t been comfortable going back to either of their houses and they’d needed to go somewhere they felt safe. Somewhere they felt accepted.
Black Light had been the obvious answer.
