“They must be waiting for us …” she whispers, her voice sounding sensual. I know my insatiable hands are turning her on.
“Did I mention how much I hate the holidays?”
I leave one last kiss on her lips before we both get dressed to face the final day of torture and sexual abstinence.
The dining-room windows frame the view of the sea, where waves crash softly in the distance, and the wind whistles briskly against the glass. Inside, it's warm and calm. My parents sit at the table in comfortable silence—my father absorbed in his newspaper, while my mother scrolls through her phone. The gentle hum of Christmas music floats through the air, mixing with the comforting scent of coffee and cinnamon. A classic Christmas morning at the Walker house.
My father's face lights up the moment he sees us, waving us over to the table with an unexpected enthusiasm. He insists Lauren sit next to him—probably so he can pepper her with more questions about the competition. I make sure to place a cup of coffee in front of her before sliding into my own seat across from them. Ten minutes later, my brothers shuffle down the stairs, greeting everyone with a chorus of “Merry Christmas” and exaggerated kisses. After breakfast, mymother leads us over to the enormous Christmas tree, glittering with golden ornaments. Piles of neatly wrapped presents, at least four for each person, are stacked beneath it.
I quietly slip Lauren’s gift from my pocket and fasten it around my wrist. She catches me in the act and smiles, a genuine, wide smile that makes my chest tighten. Thankfully, my brothers are sharp enough not to question what it is, but I wanted to wear it—because it’s something she picked out just for me. And for some reason, that simple fact feels new and good. Happy, even.
“Lauren,” Luca says, clearing his throat. “Emma wanted me to give this to you.”
“Emma?” Lauren asks, taking the small box wrapped in pink paper from him.
So, little Emma didn’t mention to her sister that she’s back to sleeping with Luca—interesting.
“Yeah, I saw her the other day, and when I mentioned I was coming here, she asked me to do her a favor.”
“And what did you ask in return?” Killian murmurs with a smirk, pretending to pour himself a second cup of coffee. “Not to be allergic to loyalty?”
Luca responds with a punch to his shoulder.
Lauren carefully unwraps the box, and I glance sideways, trying to sneak a peek at whatever’s inside. As soon as she sees it, she bursts out laughing—a kind of laughter I’ve never seen from her before, loud and unrestrained. It’s infectious, and before long, we’re all laughing along with her. But her ears turn red as Rudolph’s nose, and now I’m dying to know what the hell is so funny.
“What is it?” Luca asks between chuckles, just as curious as I am.
Still giggling, Lauren holds it up for all of us to see.
“It’s just an inside joke,” she says, smiling.
It’s a dog collar, of all things, with a small ID tag that reads:I’m Lauren Green. If I’m lost, call 212-985-3654.
I blink at the tag, then say, “But that’smynumber.”
“Yeah, like I said, it’s an inside joke. Sorry.” She tilts her head and does that little grimace she always makes when she’s uncomfortable.
I don’t catch much of what she says next—I’m too busy staring at her lips. For the next hour, my mother hands out gifts with all the holiday flair she loves to display. Surprisingly, there are presents in my name for everyone in the family. Lauren catches my confused expression and gives me a wink, her smile saying it all. I’ll need to thank her later—and I’ve got a few ideas on how to do that. She also gets a few gifts herself; my mother hands her a purse, earrings, and a couple of rings. Nothing too personal or extravagant, just the kind of things you give someone you don’t know all that well.
After lunch, my father suggests a poker game. Normally, I’d jump at the chance to distract myself with anything that kept me engaged with my dysfunctional family. But today? Today, I’d rather burn the whole house down and get out of here. Still, I play along, sitting down with my siblings and Lauren. She absolutelydestroysus, all while smiling like she has no idea how lethal she is.
By four, I’m gathering my things—and hers. I’ve got the perfect excuse to leave: my siblings have flights to catch in a few hours, and I’m playing chauffeur to get them to the airport on time. By nine, it’s just me and Lauren again.
I want to suggest she spend the night with me, but suddenly, I’m stuck. Should I just let her decide and see how she reacts? Should I insist? Should I play it cool and pretend I’m not thinking about it? Damn, I’ve never been this unsure when it comes to pursuing a girl. But Lauren isn’t just any girl. She’s something more. She’s something bigger—a whole galaxy.
“So, what are you doing tonight?” I ask, trying my best to sound casual. Subtle as ever, Silas. You'd think I have a master's degree in hownotto ask a girl to spend the night.
“Oh, probably catching up on chores and other boring stuff,” she replies, her gaze drifting out the window as we enter Manhattan. I know she doesn’t realize this is my clumsy attempt at telling her I want to make love to her until the sun rises. “And you?”
I grip the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turn white, hesitant to respond. I glance at her, then back at the road, feeling like all of Manhattan is rushing home at once. “Nothing interesting,” I mutter,testing her reaction. But she doesn’t seem to catch the tension rippling through me. “Don’t you have any more questions for me?”
She looks at me, her smile soft and knowing. “No, not for now.”
Damn it.
I pull up in front of her apartment and cut the engine. We both stare ahead, neither of us saying a word.
“Well …” she begins.
