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She walks her fingers up my chest and again sings the only line she seems to remember. It’s a damn shame she’s drunk, and my sister.
My brothers file in behind me, and Calvin demands, “What the fuck?”
Big D stops beside me. “Mind if I join in?”
Calvin steps to the other side. “She’s drunk. What kind of men are you?”
“Her brothers.” Travis overemphasizes the relation as he walks past us and flops on his chaise.
Yeah, but no. We’re only related by our parents’ marriage. Which should be enough to keep me from reacting the way I am.
“Jack’s the…” Aurora giggles, and before I realize what she’s doing, her delicate little fingers are on the crotch of my pants. No hiding how hard I am for her.
“The cocky one.” She squeezes gently and I’m desperate to lose my morals, but my bad boy persona is a stage and publicity thing.
I cough at her unexpected move. She’s bold and fun, but I’ve never seen this side of her. I’ve also never seen her drunk.
She says to Travis, “I read the tablets…tab…tabloids. I know exactly the kind of men you are.”
“The tabloids don’t know shit about the real us.” Travis’s head tips back.
“You’re the tortured, broody one.” She lolls her head toward Doug. “Big D’s the playboy.”
He catches her hand before she gropes him.
She pulls free and points toward Calvin. “And you, Mr. Bossy Pants…”
He cuts her off. “Yep. I’m the bossy one. I’m the oldest. I’ve always been responsible. Time to get you home.”
“Not yet.” She giggles while trying to appear defiant. “No sir, you’re responsible so you owe me.” She rambles about messing up her evening, overexplaining without explaining anything.
“What do we owe you?” Calvin taking her bait is a bit of a surprise.
“Everyone knows what the Christmas Cheery…Cheer…Cherry Auction is for, and you bought me. Now you have to fuck me.”
Bam! She said it. The thought that’s haunted me from the moment I heard she was in the auction. She was in it for sex. My chest tightens. My fists ball. If we hadn’t bought her…
Travis, for the first time ever, moves fast and is at Aurora’s side. “That’s not how this works. We won four hours of your time, and apparently you’re going to need to use four hours to sleep this off.”
“But—”
“You’re in no condition to do anything but sleep it off.”
“You’re not the boss of me. You can’t do this.”
“Come on.” I try to help her to the door, but she slaps at me.
“You should have stayed here and blabbed along to music that’s so loud no one can hear your crappy lyrics. We could have all had a good night.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“You ruined my night. You owe me. You’re always screwing things up. I hate you.”
She’s kind of cute-drunk, but her words, albeit impaired, sting. Is there something to them? She wouldn’t say that if she was sober, would she?
“We’ll take you home, let you sleep it off.” Travis’s eternally dark and broody expression makes him hard to read.
Calvin adds, “We’re taking her back to our place. Make sure she doesn’t get into trouble.”
