Ruby hesitated, fiddling with the frayed, worn stitching on my cut.
“This—us—it’s going to change everything,” she said softly. “And Dad will be in this big house all by himself. Mom remarried. Now I’m with you, and on top of all that, I’m taking away his best friend. I don’t want to blindside him with that right before Christmas.”
Yeah, I could understand why she wasn’t ready to open that can of worms just yet.
“After Christmas then,” I said definitively. “No excuses.”
Ruby beamed, bouncing on her toes. Just as she kissed me again, Barrett’s voice emanated from the hallway.
“There isn’t much bourbon left, but the scotch has barely been touched.”
Ruby and I split apart. I busied myself with opening the cabinet and grabbing two glasses. Ruby stacked plates in the sink, scrubbing at them.
Fuck, I couldn’t keep this up. It was too stressful. And it churned my stomach to hide the truth from my best friend. I wanted to celebrate with him—we would be officially family now.
But there was a tug of doubt in the back of my mind, too.
What if Barrett hated me for dating his daughter? What if our friendship couldn’t survive this?
For the rest of the week, Ruby and I had to be on our best behavior. And she was terrible at it. Whenever an opportunity popped up to touch me, she took it.
Grazing her fingers through my hair when she passed behind me.
Touching my shoulder with a laugh when I cracked a bad joke.
It seemed innocent enough—Ruby had always been tactile before. But I knew her. She was doing this on purpose to rile me up, for the same reason that she flirted with Psycho intentionally to make me jealous.
My suspicions were confirmed on Christmas Eve, when the house was quiet. The faint glow of light from the Christmas tree seeped through the crack beneath my door. A shadow slipped by and paused outside my room. It was probably Ruby, tucking last-minute gifts into stockings or under the tree.
A full minute went by and the shadow didn’t move.
Then the rattle of my door knob cut through the stillness of the night. The door eased open slowly with a faint squeal of the hinges. Ruby appeared in silhouette on the threshold, wearing tiny pajama shorts, and a white tank top. Even in the dim light, that thin, tight fabric revealed more than it concealed.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I hissed.
“I was cold,” she whispered, tiptoeing toward my bed. Using the cajoling, pleading tone that she knew I couldn’t say no to.
“Liar,” I grumbled. “Your dad keeps this house hotter than Florida. If you actually wore decent clothes—”
I broke off as Ruby climbed up my mattress and peeled the covers back.
“Ruby, no—”
She giggled, burrowing into my bed and snuggling close. Wrapping her arms and legs around me like a koala.
“Shit,” I exhaled.
“You were saying?” she prompted. The little minx.
Her clothes were so damn thin that I could feel her nipples against my bare chest, and the heat of her pussy, resting just above my groin. I smoothed my hand over her waist, palming her ass.
Yep. That’s what I was afraid of. No panties.
My cock twitched. I closed my eyes with a groan.
“I thought you didn’t want to fuck under your dad’s roof,” I grumbled.
Ruby hummed, lightly kissing the curve of my neck, my jawline, the corner of my mouth.
