by Shade, S. M.
He looks to Noble, who is laughing so hard he can’t get a word out. Veronica stands back at the corner of the house, watching.
“Uh, Neal. When did you get a dog?” I ask.
Denton reaches back, grabbing at the little monster and it releases his ass cheek to try to bite his hand. It falls to the ground and is instantly on its feet, trying to take a chunk out of his ankles.
Neal scoops him up. “Enough, Tinkerbell.”
Laughter shakes my entire body when I hear the name, and Denton shouts, “Tinkerbell? Satan! You should’ve named it Satan!”
Veronica walks around the side of the house, taking in the whole situation, including the car covered in sticky notes, and bursts into laughter. “No, we should’ve named him Karma because he bit you right in the ass.”
Their daughter, Bailey, sticks her head out the kitchen window. “Mom? Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine.”
“My ass isn’t fine!” Denton exclaims.
Bailey is followed outside by the younger boy, Aiden. “Dad! Look at the car!”
Bailey giggles as she walks around the front of it and gestures for her dad to look at the windshield.
“You assholes think you’re funny, huh?” Neal asks, fighting a smile.
Shrugging, I lean against the back of the car. “We missed you, old man.”
“And a phone call never occurred to you?”
“Did you cover the inside too?” Bailey asks, grinning ear to ear.
“Possibly,” Noble replies.
Bailey grabs the passenger door handle and Aiden races to the driver’s door. They open them at the same time and the plastic balls flood out. Even Denton can’t help but laugh at the identical expressions on Neal and Veronica’s faces as they just keep falling, surrounding the car.
Finally, Neal says, “Are you going to clean this shit up or do I need to let Tinkerbell go?” He acts like he’s about to set the little demon dog down. Denton doesn’t need to hear another word. He takes off like all hell is after him. After a second of hesitation, Noble and I do the same. Looking back, I see Neal flip me off while his kids are overjoyed, playing in the plastic balls.
“It’s going to take him forever to pick all those up,” I laugh, as Noble drives us back to the apartment.
“And to take all those sticky notes off,” Noble adds.
“Excuse me? I hate to ruin the fun, but in case you forgot I got mauled in my ass!” Denton cries, holding himself off the seat.
His glare at our laughter just makes me laugh harder. “Don’t worry, I have a donut pillow you can borrow.”
Noble parks in front of the apartment and we can see the girls are back. “Go have Becca patch up your ass,” he says, and Denton flips him off, heading inside.
Jani, Becca, and Sasha are dancing around the living room, clearly drunk. “The man was pure muscle!” Jani exclaims.
“I know! He picked me up like I didn’t weigh anything, and oh my god, his chest!” Sasha groans. “Solid as a rock.”
Looming in the doorway with his arms crossed, Noble announces. “All those strippers are gay. You know that, right?”
Jani dances over to him and puts her arms around his neck while Denton grabs Becca’s arm and has her follow him down the hall.
Sasha flops onto the couch. “I’m fucked up. I might pass out. But tonight was the best night ever.” Jani laughs as she stretches out the last word. True to her warning, she lies back, and her eyes fall closed.
I can hear Denton and Becca arguing as she tries to doctor him up. Big baby. He was wearing jeans and the dog was tiny. Its teeth couldn’t have gone that deep. After a moment of hesitation, I scoop Sasha up. She lets out a soft moan and lays her head on my shoulder as I carry her to the spare room.
“You’re strong,” she says, dragging her eyes open once I lay her on the bed. “I like how strong you are. And sexy. Big ol’ sexy.”
Biting back a chuckle, I pull a blanket over her. “You’re drunk.”
She points a finger at me. “That is a true statement.”
“Are you going to get sick?”
“Huh-uh. I never throw up. I’m the no spew champion.” She grabs the leg of my pants as I start to step away. “Are you going to sleep with me?”
God, the temptation. Leaning over her, I brush her damp hair out of her face. “Good night, Sasha.”
“Night, Big Ol’ Sexy,” she mumbles.
Chapter Seven
Sasha
My head thumps and my mouth tastes like something died in it. This is why I don’t drink much. My eyelids feel like they’re glued shut, and when I pry them open, I’m instantly sorry. Why does the sun have to be so bright? Whose idea was that?
It takes me a second to realize I’m not at home. My eyes adjust, and I glance around the room that isn’t one bit unfamiliar. I’m at Becca’s. I must’ve passed out here because I sure don’t remember it.
Lying there, I try to think of the last thing I remember. The strippers. Damn, that was so much fun. Dancing at the club, and didn’t we dance in the living room when we got home? It blurs a little after that, although I have a foggy image of Trey telling me good night which may or may not be accurate. Was he even here?
My head instantly protests when I sit up at the sound of a knock at the door. “Yeah,” I croak. Great. I sound like I’ve smoked for about eighty years.
The last person I want to see in this condition strolls in. “I thought you might need this,” Trey says, handing me a bottle of sports drink and some ibuprofen. “You were pretty trashed last night.”
He looks so good, and I can smell the comforting scent of him. I feel like ten hells and I just want to cuddle up on his chest until I feel better. “Thanks. I’ll have to take your word for it. I don’t remember much after the club.”
The bed creaks as he sits on the edge of it, and he smirks at me. “Well, that’s disappointing. I was hoping the nickname you gave me would stick.”
Gulping down the pills, I strain to remember if I talked to him but it’s all black. “I didn’t give you any nickname.” I can’t keep the amusement out of my voice. This is the most genial and normal we’ve been around each other since I moved out.
“You most certainly did. And I insist you address me by Big Ol’ Sexy from now on.”
Oh god, I didn’t.
I probably did.
“Zero chance that’s going to happen.”
Chuckling, he stretches out beside me and my mind jumps to the other times we lay together in this bed, laughing and teasing and fucking each other’s brains out.
“I miss you.” The words leap out before I can stop them, and he blinks.
“I miss you too.” Becca and Denton’s voices filter through the wall from the kitchen as they bicker over something, reminding us we aren’t alone. “Becca said you decided to go home for Christmas.”
“She told me the same about you.”
“Did you lie?” His lip twitches.
“Absolutely. You?”
“Like a rug. I didn’t want them to worry about me being alone. It’s really not a big deal.”
I can’t seem to control the words spewing forth today because against all my better judgement, I suggest, “We could still get together for Christmas. Get high, watch movies or whatever. You know, as friends.”
“I’m not watching Elf,” he warns with a grin.
“Oh, I’m bringing Elf.”
“Elf is not funny.”
“You sit on a throne of lies,” I quote, climbing out of bed before I end up in his arms.
“Christmas Eve?”
“I’ll be here. Don’t get me anything.”
Scoffing, he gets up and walks out of the room behind me. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
* * *
Trey opens the door on Christmas Eve wearing a white t-shirt and gray sweat pants, his red hair and beard neatly trimmed. The beard is new. He always had a bit of stubble before. It’s not going to help me make it t
hrough the night without jumping him. I’ve been arguing with myself all day.
We were having fun before. It’s normal we both got a little jealous when other people became involved, but that only happened because we were living in the same apartment. Yeah, this is me trying to justify spending Christmas naked with the sexy guy standing in front of me with a grin.
“This isn’t going to work, Sasha,” he says.
His words pull me out of my stupor, and I realize I’m just standing in the doorway, fantasizing about fucking him. “What? What isn’t going to work?”
“You can’t look at me like that and expect me to behave myself.”
Strolling inside, I set my purse on the table. “Stop being so sexy, and we won’t have these problems.”
His gaze pours over me. “You first.”
The moment is broken by his phone buzzing that he has a message. Whew. Good thing. We barely made it past the first two minutes.
I take my bag to the kitchen while he checks his phone. “I’m going to gain about ten pounds tonight!” I exclaim when I see the strawberry cheesecake sitting in the refrigerator. I put the two chilled bottles of wine inside and toss the Tupperware container full of cookies on the table.
“I made sure we had sausage, flour, and milk,” he replies.
“Is that a hint to make biscuits and gravy for breakfast?”
“You know I’m all about subtlety.” His phone buzzes again. His eyebrows raise as he checks it, then sets it aside.
“Is everything okay?”
“Everything is great.” He pauses for a second. “If I show you something, will you keep it between us?”
“Of course.”
We head back to the living room, and I sit beside him on the couch. “I haven’t showed the guys yet, but I created a game and published it. It’s doing better than I expected.”
“You made a mobile game? That’s awesome! I want to play it.”
Chuckling, he taps his phone a few times and hands it to me. “Cluck Chuckers?” He grins at my reaction. “Show me how to play.”
It’s a simple game but damn, it’s addicting. Thirty minutes fly by while I throw around chickens, until I get stuck on a level. “How do I beat this guy?”
“You have to figure it out.”
“You made the game! Just tell me.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“Fine. Just for that, I’m putting it on my phone and beating the whole game.”
Laughing, he grabs my phone. “Let me, so you don’t have to pay for it.” Using a promo code, he downloads the game and I groan. “Now I have to start all over. I need wine.”
We drink and laugh while I make my way through the levels again, dying in the same place. “It’s impossible.”
“It’s not,” he laughs. He plucks my phone out of my hands. “Take a break. We have movies to watch.”
“Fine. I will beat it, though.”
The smile on his face is bright and he seems so happy, especially when I add. “It’s a great game. Really fun and horribly infuriating.”
“That’s what I was going for. You can pick the first movie.”
Grinning, I reach down beside the couch to retrieve the Elf DVD. As soon as he sees it, he rolls his eyes, and grabs the tin he keeps his weed in. “If we’re watching Will Ferrell, I need to smoke. It’s the only way he’s funny.”
“You have no sense of humor. What movie did you choose?”
The wicked grin that creeps across his face isn’t a good sign. “You’ll see.”
I only smoke a little, because weed on top of alcohol just makes me sleepy. Despite his protests, we both laugh our way through the movie. It feels so good to just be with him again, spending time without all the worry over who is doing what. Why did we even let that ruin things? This is fine. This is fun.
After the movie, we tear into the cookies and cheesecake. “Ugh, if I eat any more, I’ll pop like a tick,” I groan, holding my stomach.
“It’s snowing,” Trey points out, pulling back the curtains on the window.
It sure is. It’s the good kind of snow too. Big, fat flakes that fall so fast and close together, you can barely see across the street. “Do you want to get out for a few minutes, walk our food off? We can just go around the circle.”
I love that his first instinct is the same as mine, to get out in the snow.
We bundle up as much as possible. Trey loans me a stocking hat. When he pulls it down over my ears, I look up at him, and he plants a soft kiss on my lips. “Ready?”
God, I wish I was. “Ready.”
Our gloved hands locked, we walk outside. There’s already an inch or so on the ground, just enough to cover the grass and pavement, but it’s still coming down fast. Taking our time, we walk down the sidewalk. It’s weird to see Violent Circle so deserted and still, the snow making it seem even quieter. It’s late, after midnight, and I imagine most of the neighbors are setting their kid’s gifts under the tree and heading to bed.
Quite a few apartments have been strung with colored lights that blur with the effect of the snow. “It’s beautiful,” I murmur.
His hand squeezes mine. “I’m glad you’re here.”
The words tighten around my heart, and I squeeze his hand back. “So am I.”
Maybe it’s the weed and wine, or the serene setting, or just Trey’s hand in mine, but a peaceful contentment settles over me. Everything just feels…right.
“I have to go to my parents for New Year’s. Well, for about five days, to watch my sister. Do you want to come with me?”
“I’d love to.” No hesitation whatsoever.
“Can you get the time off work?”
“I’m sure I can manage it.”
The wind picks up, cutting though our layers, and we head back to the warmth of the apartment. I pour myself a glass of wine while Trey has a glass of bourbon, and we settle down for another movie. He hits play on the DVD remote as I cuddle up next to him.
“Seriously?” I sit up and stare at him. “Silent Night? A horror movie?”
“A Christmas horror movie,” he corrects, looking very proud of himself. “I know how you like serial killers and all so I thought—”
“I don’t like serial killers! I just recognize them as a credible threat!”
“You aren’t scared of a movie, are you?” he challenges.
“Of course not.”
That was true when I said it. Not so much about half an hour later when a man dressed as Santa goes on a slasher spree, slaughtering everyone in sight.
“This is the worst movie, ever.”
Trey chuckles, sliding his arm around me. “He electrocuted him with Christmas lights. How festive. It’s art.”
“Oh, yeah, really beautiful,” I scoff.
“I think it’s based on a true story.”
“I hate you.” He chuckles as I continue. “And it could totally be true. Some psycho could dress up like Santa and murder people.”
“It is Christmas Eve. Maybe we should go outside, make sure there are no boot prints in the snow.”
“Very funny, asshole.”
The holiday bloodbath finally comes to an end, and I start to get up. Trey’s arm closes around my waist and pulls me back into his lap where he kisses me. God, his lips. It feels so good to have them on mine again. I don’t hesitate before I straddle him, slip my hand up his nape into his hair, and kiss the hell out of him.
His hands slide under my ass, and he carries me into his room. All the drama and pain of the last few weeks are tossed aside as we remind each other how good we are together. After a long, sweaty, satisfying night, I fall asleep wrapped in his arms.
We wake to over a foot of snow piled on the ground, and after breakfast, Trey grins at me. “Want to go out in the snow?” I can hear the shouts and laughter coming from outside. It sounds like the whole neighborhood is enjoying it.
“Do you promise not to sled down that hill and break your ass again?”
Growl
ing, he pulls me into his arms and stares down at me. “I’m not going to live that down, am I?”
“Don’t be silly. I’m sure it’ll get old in a few years.” I jump when he delivers a sharp smack on my ass. “Go layer up. You can borrow some stuff from Becca.”
It’s been years since I went out in the snow just for fun and not because I had to dig my car out and go to work. The same excitement and happiness I remember from snow days when I was a kid vibrates through me as we venture out.
There’s nothing too crazy going on. Some of the older kids are shoveling the snow into a huge mound on the parking lot beside the laundry room. Probably plan on making a fort or something. A few snowball fights are in progress, kids are everywhere with their new sleds and toys, and the air is filled with laughter.
Brian and Dillon run up, their cheeks pink. “Sasha! You didn’t sign my cast!”
He pulls a marker out of his pocket and holds up his arm. The cast is covered in scrawls and scribbles, but I find a spot to sign my name. “Trey signed first,” he announces proudly and turns his arm over to show me where Trey has written Next time you better have my money.
They race off, their feet kicking up snow. We join in on a couple of snowball fights and watch as the crazy teenagers try to break their necks jumping off the roof of the laundry room into the huge mound of snow they built.
“Do you want to go in and warm up?” Trey asks after seeing me shivering, and I nod.
Throwing my arms around him, I hold him tight. “I’ve been waiting for the perfect chance to do this,” I murmur.
“Make out with me?” he teases.
“No.”
He yelps as I shove the handful of snow down the back of his pants and dart away. He might’ve been able to catch me if he wasn’t trying to shake a large amount of snow out of the back of his underwear at the same time. A group of younger kids notice and start yelling at him.
“What’s the matter, Trey? You got a wedgie?”
“You trying to dance?” another taunts. “You look like a dork!”