Istared at the Christmas tree, fingers absently tracing the star topper in my hand. The damn thing was taunting me, waiting to be placed at the top of the perfectly decorated tree that was now a monument to my momentary lapse in judgment.
Three days had passed since I’d dry-humped Blitz while Don kissed me senseless. Three days of pretending it hadn’t happened. Three days of ignoring the texts from both men, each message more concerned than the last.
What the hell was wrong with me? I’d gone from avoiding Christmas like the plague to grinding on a man named after a famous reindeer while another watched. And let’s not forget I’d already kissed two others the night before.
The star glinted as I set it back in its box. I wasn’t ready to finish the tree. Finishing meant accepting whatever was happening, and I wasn’t there yet.
My phone buzzed.
Kip: Meet us outside in five. Wear something comfortable!
Great. Another festive adventure with the Christmas crusaders.
I peered through my blinds to confirm my suspicions. Sure enough, the red electric truck idled in front of my house. Except this time, it had twinkling lights around the truck bed and along the doors. I wasn’t sure of the legality of placing Christmas lights on vehicles, but I imagined they reined themselves in by not covering the whole thing.
At least it wasn’t Blitz or Don. Or Pierce. Or Vix. At this point, I was going to need an Excel document to keep track of them all.
I grabbed my purse, locked up, and steeled myself for whatever holiday nonsense awaited me.
Kip waved enthusiastically from where he held open the truck door for me while Cole sat stoically behind the wheel, his massive frame making the steering wheel look child-sized.
I climbed into the passenger seat. “You’re not wearing matching shirts. I’m almost disappointed.”
Cole’s mouth twitched. “Night off.”
I got the distinct feeling that he was lying. “Oh really?”
Kip climbed in the back and leaned forward between the seats. “So, Neve. How’s the tree?”
My face heated as I realized they knew about what I’d done with Blitz and Don. Did they know about Pierce and Vix too?
I buckled my seatbelt as the truck pulled away from the curb and sank lower in my seat. “You all must think I’m a hoe, hoe, hoe.” I giggled and quickly slapped my hand over my mouth. Where the heck had that come from?
Kip patted my shoulder. “We’ll forgive you for that unbelievably cringe pun.”
Cole glanced over at me before he turned out of my neighborhood. “We don’t think you’re a hoe, as you so eloquently put it. We all feel a pull toward you in that way.”
“You do?” My thighs involuntarily squeezed together at the thought of nine of them. None of it made any sense. I was usually impartial to romance and was fine without dating and sex.
Kip shifted into the middle seat and leaned forward, close enough that I caught a hint of cinnamon and pine. His eyes,bright and earnest, locked with mine. “I definitely do.” His voice was soft but certain, with no trace of his usual playful banter.
There was something so disarmingly sincere about him that I had to look away, pretending to be fascinated by the Christmas lights of a passing house.
Time to change the subject. “Where are we going?”
Cole pulled onto the highway. “Holiday surprise.”
“You’ve all been full of those lately. Almost like you’re planning them to be progressively worse for me.” I twisted in my seat so I could see Kip better.
Kip laughed. “Maybe we are. We’re very coordinated.”
“Coordinating through what, the Reindeer Telepathy Network? Do you all have group texts? Is one called ‘Operation Make Neve Festive’ or something?”
Kip tapped a finger to his temple. “Something like that. Our connection is deeper than phones.”
I rolled my eyes. “So what, the nine of you gather in a circle, hold hooves, and beam thoughts into each other’s heads? Very efficient.”
Cole made an amused noise in the back of his throat. “Not exactly. Herd communication goes through the alpha.”
