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I’m cracking up too.
Meg wasneversad.
But teasing her about it always gets me more kisses.
And despite the fact that my dick should basically be dead after how much sex we’ve had the past few days, having her straddle me is making me hard again.
Already.
This.
This is what I want to do with retirement.
Meg.
Every day.
“Just for that, I’m going to make you help me cook fudge,” she informs me.
“Not the fudge,” I gasp in mock horror.
“While we’re drinking hot chocolate. After we make homemade Christmas ornaments.”
“No. No more torture.”
“And then we’re having a snowball fight where you’ll knock me down, and I’ll pretend I’m hurt, and you’ll come running and realize that the way your heart stopped means that you care about me so much that this can’t just be a holiday fling.”
Okay, that one’s not funny.
I grip her by the chin and hold one of her hands right where it was, over my heart. “This isnota holiday fling.”
She blinks twice, chasing away the brief shine that, even before she moved in here with me, I could’ve identified.
She doesn’t like to let people see her vulnerable.
And who does?
“I knew that,” she says quietly.
“The first time I saw you, I didn’t know you were Jude’s sister. I was standing next to him in the dugout, and I looked out in the crowd and saw you, and everything stopped. Right up until he punched me in the arm and told me if I was drooling over his sister, he’d kill me.”
“Oh my god, Trevor, I wassixteen.”
“I was quickly informed, and for the record, you looked way older. But I put you in theoff-limitscategory, and I didn’t let you out. Ever. Not when you were nineteen and we were graduating college, not when you were twenty-five and crashed that bachelor party we had for—fuck, I don’t even remember who. And not when—”
Something bangs on my front door, and then it swings open. “Merry Christmas, motherfu—what?”
Meg shrieks and dives off me, leaving my half-hard dick exposed for her brother to see.
Her brother.
Her brother, my best friend, who’s supposed to be in Australia, who hasn’t answered my text message, which I had started hoping just hadn’t gone through.
“What thefuck?” Jude says.
I’m scrambling for the blanket.
Meg’s hovering behind the tree. “Oh my god, don’t you know youwait for people to answer the door?” she shrieks.
