We tangle together, and he tells me a thousand more times as we strip each other bare, as we kiss and touch. As we join and find our ecstasy together. And when we curl close, skin to skin, the room around us smelling like us—like pack—he tells me again.
CHAPTER21
“Iget it,” Simon says with a put-upon sigh. “You just don’t think I’m as foxy as my sister.”
I roll my eyes as Simon leads me and Luca back to his room, but in truth, I’m glad we’ve found our way back to the friendship we had before our disastrous kiss. I still pine for him—and probably always will—but just seeing his mischievous smile lights up the dark corners of my heart. If I can’t have Simon Monroe as a lover, I will cherish him as a friend. “I thought you’d think it was silly and childish.”
“It is silly and childish, and I want ten. And also, never take your black cat hat off, because you’re fucking adorable, and I can hardly stand it.”
I laugh and Simon takes my hand, pulling me up the stairs. Luca, shooting me a pointed look, grins and follows.
“So, Luc was telling me your Yule really sucked and his kinda sucked, so…” He throws open the door and I’m greeted with the most festive blanket fort I’ve ever seen. Colorful twinkle lights glitter from within the sheets and blankets, while deep red bows curl down from the posts of the bed. Colorful paper chain garlands loop from post to post and a hundred paper snowflakes float above our heads. Pine scents the room, and beneath it all, the scent of…
“Oh! You made mulled cider?”
“It’s wassail, you absolute, unapologetic heathen.”
I laugh as the three of us pile into the fort. “Simon, this is completely amazing. Easily the best Yule fort ever.”
He shrugs, but a blush floods his cheeks behind his freckles. “Ellie didn’t get enough special Christmases as a kid, so… so I did what I could.”
Of course he did, because Simon is one of the best men I know.
“I hope Ellie told you how important Yule stockings are in the Monroe family. Well, between the two of us and Mom, at least.”
“Ah, no. She was too busy berating me for not making you a hat.”
“I have the best little sister. I’m so jealous, Junes. I need one.”
I laugh. “Fine, fine. I’ll make you one!”
My beta best friend unhooks two felt Yule stockings from the posts of his bed and hands one to me and one to Luca.
“Bro, you didn’t have to.”
Simon shoots Luca a look that’s all exasperated beta. “You get presents. Deal with it. And stocking presents are silly. So really. Just deal with it.”
My stocking is stuffed to the brim with candy, including every flavor of Kit-Kat I can imagine, and then even more, colorful pens and flashcards in a dozen colors, fuzzy socks, and in the stocking’s toe, there’s a foil-wrapped chocolate orange.
“Holy shit, did you bespell these spark plugs? That’s so fucking cool!”
Luca geeks out over what must be spark plugs with boyish abandon and for the first time in nearly two months, he looks like the alpha I fell in love with again. The darkness under his eyes is gone and his face is no longer gaunt and drawn. His smile is so easy, so beautiful, that I can’t help but lean forward and capture his lips with my own.
“Okay, so, now I’m starting to think that Luc’s spark plugs were the nerdiest present I made this Yule, but…” Simon brandishes a small package, the shape of which I realize almost immediately.
“My favorite highlighters?” I tear the paper away, revealing a five-pack of highlighters, just as I suspected.
“Oh, kit-kat. You havenoidea the magic I’ve done to these babies.” He flips his tablet open and sets it in my lap, then opens a book, taps the corners of the page with the yellow highlighter and then tracks the highlighter over some text in the book, making me cringe. Except there’s no ink in the highlighter at all.
The text transfers flawlessly to the tablet’s screen, highlighted in yellow. He traces over the ISBN of the book and a citation immediately appears on the screen. Then he double taps the annotation, and it appears on a virtual index card. Another three taps and I hear a small printer whirring over on his desk. With the smuggest grin ever, he reaches back and snatches a yellow index card out of the printer, marked with the bit of text he highlighted, followed by a perfectly formatted Étienne Modern style citation.
My jaw drops open and for a moment, I’m speechless.
“Pretty sure you just made all of her nerdy wet dreams come true.” Luca winks at Simon and sticks his fist out to bump knuckles with him.
“It’s color coded,” I say, dumbly.
“Of course it’s color coded,” Simon scoffs, tapping Luca’s knuckles with his own.
