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But strangely, watching my friends with Zoey didn’t stir any pangs of jealousy within me. I wasn’t one to put my emotions on display, though, so I pushed them aside for the moment.
Opening another beer, I raised my bottle in a mock toast. “To charred meals and new holiday memories!”
That was corny and way too sentimental. I didn’t say shit like that, and I hated the sound of it as it crossed my lips.
The embarrassment didn’t even last a second. Everyone cheered, the room echoing with laughter and camaraderie. But in the back of my mind, a storm was brewing, and I couldn’t shake off the feeling that things were about to get a lot more complicated.
Hesitating slightly, I turned to face Zoey, our eyes locking. There was an intensity in her gaze that mirrored my own swirling emotions. Why had I just agreed to stay for three more weeks of recurring blue balls?
“Zoey,” I murmured. The strong sensation of needing to get her alone, to tell her what I was struggling with, battled inside me, but I couldn’t find the words.
She moved a step closer, her blue eyes searching mine. “Mason?” she whispered back, the question in her voice betraying her own uncertainties and desires.
We were interrupted by a sudden crash. Liam had knocked over a glass, the sound shattering the charged moment between us. As Zoey and I jumped apart, I noticed him and Bodhi staring at us.
“Oops,” Liam said and began to clean up the glass.
Neither of my friends looked angry, but it seemed they were both watching the exchange between Zoey and me closely.
Bodhi flashed a sly grin. “Get a room, you two.”
Zoey, her cheeks now red, shot them both a mock-annoyed look. “You two are impossible,” she muttered, though there was no real irritation in her voice.
The moment had passed, but the embers of what she had sparked in me remained, smoldering beneath the surface. And from the looks of it, Liam and Bodhi weren’t just observers. They seemed to be silently cheering it on, pushing us toward an inevitable conclusion.
Weren’t they worried about what Eric would think?
“Let’s get those ornaments!” Zoey announced, her mood infectious.
With a playful nudge in my direction, Liam replied, “Mason, why don’t you give Zoey a hand? Bodhi and I can handle the cleanup here before the pizza arrives.”
I grumbled, “Fine. But just know I have no artistic skills, and I’m not getting stuck on tinsel duty.”
Zoey laughed softly, her blue eyes sparkling mischievously. “Who even uses tinsel these days?” Her voice echoed slightly in the room’s vastness as she led me toward an old storage closet. “You’re tall; I’m putting you on star duty.”
The dim light inside the closet illuminated a dusty assortment of bins, each likely holding treasures of Christmases past. Zoey pointed to the containers housing the ornaments, bending slightly to pick one up.
Her ass looked amazing in the jeans that hugged her curves, and I couldn’t help but feel a surge of desire—again.
Down, boy, I told myself inwardly.
“Hold on,” I interjected, my voice a shade deeper than I intended, reaching out faster and snagging the bin from her grasp.
She looked up, a hint of surprise in her eyes, but it quickly transformed into appreciation. “Thanks.” Her fingers brushed against the hard curve of my bicep.
The contact, brief as it was, sent a jolt down my spine, straight to my manhood.
Reacting instinctively, I tensed my arm slightly, subtly flexing the muscle beneath her touch. If I couldn’t impress her with my cooking, hopefully I could impress her in other ways.
Effortlessly, I lifted the remaining boxes and bins, their weight nothing compared to the adrenaline pumping through my veins. I carried them toward the undecorated tree, the scent of fresh pine mingling with the rising tension in the air.
I couldn’t help but notice the convenient absence of Bodhi and Liam. They had mysteriously vanished, presumably upstairs, leaving me with our best friend’s little sister in this intimate setting.
My eyes roamed over the room, just to make sure, wondering if this was done on purpose. If it was, I’d owe them a drink later. Maybe two.
As we started going through the boxes of ornaments and lights, the proximity and the quietness of the moment made me hyper-aware of her. The gentle way she handled the ornaments, the twinkle in her eyes reflecting the tree lights, and the light scent of her familiar perfume were overwhelming.
Every so often, our hands would brush against one another, each touch making me want her more. The tension from earlier in the kitchen had morphed into something more profound, and she became harder and harder to resist.
