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He sighs dramatically, like he’s doing me a favor. “Fine. I’ll do it, I suppose.”

“Now,” I demand. “Before everybody starts arriving.”

For a moment, he looks like he might argue. Then he sets his glass down harder than necessary and heads for the door.

When it closes behind him, there’s a moment of silence.

Then Alex looks at me. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Look at you, cleaning up everybody’s messes. The big bad brother in charge. It’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?”

“Go fuck yourself,” I tell him, striding toward the door, my jaw so tight it hurts.

I don’t wait for him to answer. I don’t want to talk to him anymore. I have way too much to do. I need to call the hotel and make sure they’re ready for the article, then I need to talk to Georgia and do the same.

Right now, she’s the only person I trust in this whole house. The sooner this party is over, the better.

GEORGIA

I have my earbuds in to block out the sound of furniture being moved and caterers shouting, as my fingers slide across the keyboard of my MacBook, and I start outlining my article using the notes I’ve already made.

The chair I’m sitting on is hard – enough to give me a numb behind – but I barely notice. I’ve always had the ability to block everything else out when I’m working. Even in college I could study for a test in the middle of a party as long as I had earbuds.

But when I hear the bedroom door open, I’m still surprised to see that two hours have passed. I close the laptop and look over to see Theo walking in. He has that blank look on his face again. The one he always seems to have around his family. I take out my earbuds and lay them on the table.

“Is everything okay?” I ask him, standing. God, my legs are aching. I swear the walk across the muddy fields was more exercise than an hour at SoulCycle.

He pushes his hair out of his face. “More family trouble.” He presses his lips together. “What have you been doing?”

“I started working on my article.” I incline my head at the desk.

“Did you get through to your mom?”

I let out a breath. He looks like he has enough going on, he doesn’t need to hear about my woes. “It wasn’t her. Turned out to be a sales call.”

“I guess there’s no let up for Christmas.” He smiles softly.

“Apparently not.” I walk forward and slide my hands around his waist. He’s so tense I can feel the sinews of his muscular back. He drops his head into the crook where my neck meets my shoulder and I feel the warmth of his breath as he lets out a sigh.

“Christ, you smell good.”

“I smell of me,” I tell him.

“As I said. Good.” He presses his lips against my skin. “Let’s leave tomorrow first thing,” he murmurs. “Before anybody else gets up.”

“Did something happen downstairs?” I ask. “With your dad?” I slide my fingers into his hair, my nails scraping his scalp. He lets out a soft groan.

“More family crap.” His dark eyes meet mine. “I swear, they’re all getting worse.”

“I’m sorry.” I kiss his jaw. “Want me to help you forget it all?” I whisper.

The corner of his lip lifts. “Absolutely. What do you have in mind?”

I trace the bridge of his nose, the sharp edge of his jaw. Then his warm lips, slightly parted, breath coating my skin.

“This.” I replace my fingers with my lips, kissing him softly. A rumble comes from deep in his throat, as he tangles his fingers in my hair, kissing me back. I feel the tension slowly seep from his body as he leans down, sliding his fingers along my face, angling me to deepen the kiss.

It’s like a fire has been lit inside of us. Maybe we both need this after the last twenty-four hours. He rolls his body against me – he’s already hard against my stomach, then slowly walks us toward the bed, me stepping backward, him guiding me, never once pulling his lips from mine.

It’s only when I feel the wooden sideboard hit my upper calves that he pulls away. His eyes are dark as he slides his hands down my hips, over my thighs, then to the button of my jeans, tugging the zipper before he drags the denim down my legs.