“I’ll worry about them later.” He angles his body to face mine, our knees once again touching, then reaches for a present on the coffee table I didn’t notice earlier.
It’s roughly the size of a shoebox, though slightly wider, and… “Are there elves playing hockey on this wrapping paper?”
“Gotta be festive.”
Gah! When he does things like showing his playful side, I can’t help but fall for him a little bit.
Falling for him is a mistake, Mels. Fucking hell. It would be really helpful if my subconscious could pick a side already.
His finger is back to tracing those maddening figure eights on my thigh, and I’ve officially lost count of how many times I’ve told myself not to sleep with him on the first date.
There have been a few close calls, like when he ran his tongue ring down the length of my neck. The cool metal was a direct contrast to his warm mouth, and I was stupid close to saying Fuck it and asking him to take me right there on the table.
Zoey and Ella would be proud if you did.
Shaking off those lustful thoughts before they can take root, I refocus my attention on the box in hand, letting out a startled laugh as the present comes into view.
“Did you really get me a Mr. Potato Head?”
“Yup, and I got myself a Mrs. Potato Head. This way we each have something close by to make us think of the other.”
Swoon. Dammit.
“Did you push them together and make them kiss before you wrapped mine?”
“Duh.”
“You speak like a fifteen-year-old girl.”
“Guess I should blame JD for all the times she used to dress me up growing up.”
My jaw hits the ground. “Seriously?”
He throws his head back, his blond hair flopping, catching the light in golden waves, and he full-on belly laughs. It takes him a while to get himself back under control enough to speak, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye as he brings the now swirling green and gold irises back to me.
“You have no idea how badly I want to say yes, but no, JD did not dress me like a girl growing up.”
“Well that’s a little disappointing.” I pout.
He lifts a hand to stroke a thumb across my protruding bottom lip, his other fingers hooking under my chin and holding me in place. His thick blond lashes grow heavy as his eyes lock onto my mouth.
He’s going to kiss me.
It wouldn’t be the first time his lips were on my body.
Cheek.
Temple.
Top of the head.
Across the knuckles.
Behind the ear.
And who could forget the neck? I sure as hell can’t, not with the wetness in my panties.
Jase’s head lowers.
My eyes drift shut.
The moment charges.
He shifts closer, the heat of his body radiating to mine more and more intensely the nearer he gets.
His lips are about to touch mine when the sound of three beeps sounds in the distance, followed by a door opening and closing. A gorgeous blonde walks into the room speaking on a phone.
A girl who has the code to the apartment.
Chapter Ten
I spent the night building to this moment.
Every touch, brush of my lips, and drag of my tongue was leading to finally discovering what Melody’s lips taste like.
Slowly, so slow I’m practically a slow-motion replay, I lower my face, the scent of bubble gum intensifying the closer I get to the promised land.
I’m a hairbreadth away when I hear the three beeps of the front door’s lock disengaging. Cali is a dead man for choosing now to drift across the hall. I turn to tell my meddlesome teammate to get the hell out, only to let out an audible curse when I see it’s Maddey striding into the room.
“No way, Jor.” Of course she’s on the phone with my twin, because I’ve obviously done something to piss off the man upstairs. “I swear these boys will never le—” Her words and steps abruptly stop when she spots Melody and me on the couch.
I barely hold back a scowl when I see the green pallor of Melody’s skin. She looks like she’s going to be sick, and I’m sure my girl is drawing all sorts of incorrect conclusions. Every time she’s been faced with or heard of another female, she’s assumed I’m sleeping with them. My wombmate and I need to have a serious discussion about the rumors circulating about me.
“Um, Jor?” Maddey’s wide blue eyes bounce between us. “I know I’ve been in my writing cave this week, but is there something you need to tell me about Jase?”
She’s too far away for me to overhear my sister’s response, but her excited squeal is hard to miss.
Without missing a beat, Maddey disconnects the call without a goodbye, striding over to pick up the remote on the coffee table to connect to the video chat system our entire squad has installed.
Within seconds, hazel eyes that match mine are blinking at me from my flat-screen television.
Well this should be interesting.
I cup one of Melody’s knees in an effort to offer comfort, but her body has more tension in it than my hockey stick. Fucking one step forward, two steps back.
“Jason.” JD levels me with one of her mom looks.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What’s with the use of my legal name?” I hold the hand not on Melody up in surrender. I’m not giving up contact until she relaxes—and maybe not even then.
“I think it’s warranted in this situation.”
“Besides, it’s not like she middle-named you or anything, Trip.” Maddey perches on the arm of the couch closest to Melody, propping elbows on her bent knees and leaning forward, settling in for a good story.
“Trip?” Melody’s voice is small as she asks, and I hate it. I don’t ever want her to be scared to ask me something.
“It’s short for Triplet,” Maddey answers. “Since these two”—her finger bounces between me and where my sister is displayed on the screen in high-definition glory—“are twins, and Jordan and I”—now her finger bounces between herself and JD—“look like we could be twins ourselves, we like to say I’m their triplet who was separated at birth.”
“Plus it drives Ryan batty,” JD adds gleefully.
“Yes. An added benefit for sure,” Maddey agrees, looking back at JD.
I shake my head at how ruthless these two can be when they want to be.
“So…” Maddey’s attention once again comes back to us, and I swear it feels like my balls try to crawl back inside my body.
Better prepare yourself for epic embarrassment, Donnelly.
“Tell me all the things.” Mischief I’m more than acquainted with dances in Maddey’s icy eyes.
I swear, tell me all the things should be The Coven’s mission statement.
“How are you being so cool about this?” Melody asks instead of answering. She moves to rise from the couch, but I tighten my hold on her, keeping her in place. No running away, baby.
“Cool about what?” Maddey tilts her head like her yellow lab, Trident, is known to do.
“Finding me in your boyfriend’s apartment.”
Sonofabitch I was right. I want to find every person who ever put these misconceptions in her pretty head and punch them in the face.
Maddey laughs so hard she falls off the couch, and when I look toward the TV, my twin is in a similar state, arms curled around her pregnant belly.