Noah glances at me over Jett’s shoulder, a pleading look on his face.
“Don’t give me that look, Slater. We both handed off that responsibility when you started dating her.”
“And he does it flawlessly,” says Jett without missing a beat as she starts to unpack the container of decorations that Reece had shoved into a corner.
Reece slips behind me, his fingers brushing along my hip as his breath tickles my ear. “I’m willing to chase you a little longer, but you have the reins here,” he whispers before dropping a quick kiss to my temple and moving away before his sister sees. He doesn’t look back, but his earlier words echo through my head, quiet and sure.
You ruin me every time those blue eyes of yours look at me like that.
Chapter 8
Reece
The house has gone still again, fire burned down to a low glow. The couch creaks every time I move, the kind of sound that reminds me why I should’ve bought new furniture years ago. Sleep isn’t happening. Not with her down the hall, cocooned in that drafty room.
I can damn near hear her teeth chattering through the wall. It’s the last straw as I stand with a groan and make my way around the corner. When she notices me, McKenna has that stubborn tilt to her chin again, even half-buried under my comforter.
“You have a king-size bed,” she argues, teeth chattering between words. “It’s not like we’d be that close.”
I huff out a laugh as she tries to convince me the couch is a bad idea. I know the couch is less than ideal, but... “You got mad at me for catching you off guard the other day.”
“I even built a pillow wall,” she whines, and the pout on her face could probably rival the little kids she’s so fond of. “And you know good and well, it was more than just catching me.”
The bed shakes with her shivering, and every tremor goes straight through me. I try to stay by the door. I really do, but it’s useless. With a muttered curse, I take the few steps into the room and start dismantling her ridiculous pillow barricade.
Her eyes fly open. “What the hell are you doing?”
“What do you mean, what am I doing?” I grumble, sliding under the sheets. “Relax. You’re freezing.” She’s already halfway to another argument, and I bite back a smile. She doesn’t realize how easy she is to read. The flush in her cheeks has nothing to do with the cold. “My sister would never forgive me if I let you shiver to death.”
McKenna squeaks when I pull her against my chest, her icy toes immediately pressing against my leg.
“Didn’t know Jack Frost was so beautiful,” I murmur, wrapping an arm around her waist and hooking a leg over hers to help settle her shivering. My fingers trail up and down her arm in slow, steady strokes as I try to coax some warmth back into her.
The warmth hits fast, skin to skin through layers of cotton and flannel. I can feel her breath stutter against my chest. She fits there too easily, like she’s always belonged right here.
Have we just been too stubborn to notice?
It’s quiet for a long moment, and I briefly wonder if she’s fallen asleep. The faint crackle of the fire in the other room is the only sound, until her voice breaks the silence.
“Can I be honest with you?”
I press my chin to the crown of her head. “I prefer it to you lying to me.”
She exhales, slow and shaky, which is uncommon for her. “I don’t want you to quit chasing me. Not just to get me under the mistletoe with whatever personal bet you have going, but after Christmas, too.”
“Yeah?”
She nods, her hands finding mine, tugging my arms tighter around her. “But I don’t know how to do all of this and still keep my independence.”
It hits me then how hard this week must have been on her. Independence has always been her thing, standing on her own two feet and proving she’s a badass again and again.
Sighing into her hair, I offer a gentle squeeze. “I would never in a million years ask you to give that up,” I say quietly, and I mean it with every fiber of my being. McKenna Monroe’s ability to maintain control when her world is on fire is just one of the things I love about her.
Shit.
My thumb shifts across the back of her hand as I try to reel my thoughts back in. “We could have both, you know.”
She tilts her head up, her eyes just barely meeting mine. “How would that work?” she asks, her voice more fragile than I’ve heard in a long time.
