“Look,” she says, not so subtly putting more space between us, “I get it. I have siblings too. But I never did anything to you, and your brother still thought he had to dare you to get you to be nice to me. I can’t help that it hurts.”
Her sad eyes meet mine, the green color subdued as she raises one shoulder and lets it drop. “That was never the intention.”
“I’ll get over it.” She looks around the kitchen. “I can handle the rest. Why don’t you go home and do your elf duties or let the pig out or something?”
“Aspen, please.”
“No,” she says firmly, her jaw clenched tight, “tomorrow is a big deal and I’m not going to spend the next several hours wondering what you’re thinking or if you’ve just been trying to sleep with me this whole time.”
“That’s not?—”
“I’ll be fine tomorrow, but right now I won’t pretend to save your feelings when you clearly weren’t worried about mine.”
“Fuck.” I sigh, dragging a hand down my face.
“Yeah, we won’t be doing that.” She nods toward the door. “Make sure you lock it on your way out.”
And with that, she turns on her heels and heads down the hall, leaving me no choice but to go home and figure out how I’m going to fix this.
PHOENIX: She fucking heard you
TALON: Heard me what?
PHOENIX: About you saying you “dared” me to be nice to her
PHOENIX: She thinks it’s been a game—that I’ve just been messing with her
TALON: Shit—sorry, man. I can call her
PHOENIX: No. Don’t fucking talk to her. I need to fix it
TALON: I really am sorry
PHOENIX: Yeah well, it hasn’t been long enough since I pulled my head out of my ass for her to believe me
TALON: You finally admitting you like her?
PHOENIX: Of course I fucking like her—that’s always been the problem
PHOENIX: It’s just not a problem anymore
TALON: Unless she doesn’t talk to you
PHOENIX: Not fucking helpful
TALON: Cora said she’s texting you Vienna’s number, also she’s cackling so good luck—I don’t think that’s good for you
PHOENIX: What else is new?
Turnsout my debt to Vienna Greene was akin to letting her harvest an organ, and had I not been trying to win her sister over, she might have asked for my first-born child. She’d had more than a few choice words to illustrate just how unimpressed she is with me, but I deserved every single one.
Still, Aspen’s sister had called in a couple of favors—big ones—so now, the rest is up to me.
15
ASPEN
The kitchen is covered in everything imaginable as “Riot” by Three Days Grace blasts through the speakers. I wasn’t feeling veryChristmasythis morning, and despite trying to clean up as I went, I’d missed a few spots.
