by Angel Lawson
As my body reacts to just seeing them, I check on Sierra to make sure she’s not watching, but she’s holding a large glass of eggnog and engaged in a conversation with a man around her age with an unnaturally sharp jawline.
Katie walks by and I grab her by the arm. “Seriously, where did you find these guys? Some kind of hot ranger pin-up calendar or something?”
“There’s a certain breed that goes into the national park ranger program. Most are hippies with backpacks filled with Birkenstocks and granola bars. But then there’s this whole other group…” She smiles over at her boyfriend and he raises an eyebrow in return. “They’re just looking for some nature and adventure.”
They’re all too old for me and I have no interest anyway, but for Sierra, they are definitely the perfect distraction. “Thank you for inviting them.”
“I hate what’s going on with you all. Think of it as my Christmas gift.” She winks. “A group gift.”
I’ve never admitted to Katie that I have feelings for all the guys equally, but she seems to know and it doesn’t bother her. It’s one of the reasons she’s so easy to be around. She doesn’t judge.
I start to walk toward the twins and she grabs my arm. “I also left you all a little holiday treat in the back room. Don’t forget to check it out.”
I swallow at the suggestive twinkle in her eye but tuck that information away for later. The twins are surrounded by friends, including Tom who is shaking both their hands, and Leelee who immediately foists food on them. They’re not rude but I feel their eyes come back to me over and over again as I wait patiently for them to escape.
“It feels good to have them back here.” Dexter leans against the wall next to me.
“It does. I know they’re okay—they’re big guys and not the little kids they were when they came here—but it still makes me nervous.”
His fingertips discreetly brush against mine. “Do you think my sister is drunk enough for me to keep talking to you?”
“Drunk on hot guys and eggnog. Yep.”
“Those guys were your idea?” His forehead furrows. I’m not sure he likes seeing his sister hit on like this.
“Katie’s, but I approved. She needs to relax. That’s half her problem.”
“I’ve been wanting to come over here all night. Tell you how much I like that dress.”
I smooth the skirt of the red dress I’d found down at the thrift store in June Lake with my hands. It’s a little much. Glittery sequins cover the top and the skirt is short, but it was only ten dollars and seemed like the kind of festive outfit perfect for the night.
“Thank you.” Jake watches us from across the room and the boys finally break free from my grandmother and head our way. “I think it’s safe to socialize, don’t you?”
He nods and pushes off the wall. Right before the boys reach us, he leans in and says, “By the way, don’t forget what I said about the next person that kisses you.”
A shiver runs up my spine. Him. He’d made a promise and Dexter isn’t the type to renege.
That, along with everything else, makes me think tonight is going to be a very good night.
The problem with being in the same room as the wayward sons and a bunch of other people isn’t so much sharing them—I’m happy everyone is mingling and socializing—it’s my body’s hyperawareness of them. Keeping track of one boy is distracting enough. Four? I feel like live wires of electrical currents are racing through my system.
As the night progresses, though, the adults settle into their own social circles, sitting around tables sharing food and drink. Sierra and Katie are lost in their own conversation, the men around them engaged and focused.
Katie catches my eye and winks, reminding me of her comment about the back room. Curiosity gets the best of me and I slip through the tables to the little room in the back. It’s a sunroom—part of the original house—with paned windows and comfy cushioned chairs. Gauzy curtains cover the windows, giving the room some privacy. In the summer, when things are busy, it’s used for tourists popping in for tea or a late lunch. Tonight, it’s cast in a soft glow from the string of lights hanging from the ceiling and the dangling star dropped from the middle of the room. Candles flicker on the small tables and I get the feeling this is the “gift” Katie referred to. I feel a hand slip around my waist and look over up at Jake, who’s taking in the room.
“Look.” He nods at the star. Hanging from the bottom is a sprig of leaves.
Mistletoe.
It’s cheesy and romantic and honestly, exactly what I need right now. The four of us need something easy—sweet. A way to just relax and celebrate making it through the past month.
“Did you set this up?” George asks, closing the door behind him. The sounds from the outer room vanish and it’s like we’re finally, peacefully, alone.
“No,” I admit, although it would have been the perfect gift. “I think we have a fairy godmother.”
I’ll have to send Katie a gift basket or something.
Fingers link with mine and Dexter pulls me away from the others, pulling me to the middle of the room. He places his hands on my hips and looks over my shoulder. “Sorry boys, I made a promise to Starlee a few days ago and I mean to fulfill it.”
My heart pounds in my chest, not just from Dexter’s closeness but from the knowledge the other boys are watching. We’ve always kept our intimate moments private—stealing little pieces of time alone. But here we are in this little room, our only chance to be together, and I can tell from the determined look on Dexter’s face that he’s not going to waste it.
And I don’t want him to.
He pushes his fingers behind my ear and up into my hair, pulling me close. It’s been too long I’ve kissed him, and every nerve in my body wants it—wants him. His lips are pink and he wets them, taking his damn time. I think he’s doing it on purpose to rile either me up or the boys. Whatever he’s doing, it works, because when he finally brushes his lips against mine I’m thoroughly consumed. Dex doesn’t hold back just because the boys are in the room. He leans in, taking his time, sweeping his tongue against mine. I can’t help but think about how much I miss this. How much we’re missing one another. I reach for his shirt, fisting it in my hand, wanting to feel his body next to mine. He hums in reply, lifting his other hand to the back of my head. He steals my breath away. My heart too, and just when I think I could do this forever a throat clears across the room, reminding us we’re not alone.
We ease apart, reluctantly, but I know that’s not the only kiss I’m going to get tonight. Just the first and wow, did Dexter make good on his promise.
I exhale, feeling settled for the first time in a while, and glance back at the other boys standing in the doorway. They watched patiently as Dexter got his kiss and there’s only one thing I want to do.
Wish each and every one of them a Merry Christmas under the mistletoe.
26
Jake
There’s something about watching Dexter kiss Starlee that brings it all home for me. We’d floundered for years, never quite fitting in, our family’s a mess or gone, our behavior reckless and out of control. But this girl, she brings us all together in a way no one else could do it. Not Sierra. Not even each other. She’s the glue that binds.
I know it should bother me to see her kissing the other guys, but it doesn’t. It definitely makes me horny. I’m getting ridiculously hard watching her little body writhe and react. I notice Dexter shift in his seat more than once after their kiss. His jaw clenches and his cheeks are flushed. I know the feeling; this girl has my balls twisted in knots. It’s why I coughed when the kiss between them had gone on so long. The last thing we needed here was for things to go porno. Not that Starlee had that kind of intention, but four teenage boys? Shit. Our minds are like one giant, continuous cycle of wet dreams and fantasies.
It takes serious willpower for things not to get depraved.
That’s why, when she approaches Charlie next, I just take a seat, biding m
y time and trying to steady the blood flow coursing from my heart to my dick. She looks fantastic in the red shiny dress, cut high enough on her legs to send my imagination into overdrive. Her skin is pale and smooth, stretching from her feet clad in sexy heels to the ruffles of her skirt. Charlie looks nervous—of course—Starlee is new for him—any live girl would be. But to find the one on your first shot? Not having made the mistakes I had with someone like Christina? He’s really the lucky one.
There’s part of me that knows I shouldn’t watch but I do, taking in how she walks him over, tugging on his hand until they’re centered under the mistletoe as though that’s mandatory. Our girl’s adorable, innocent yet wise. Sweet but sexy and I’ve seen her down on her knees—so she’s not that innocent—but I meant what I told her that night. When we finally go all the way, it’s on our terms, taking our time. There’s no way I’m rushing through that once in a lifetime moment.
To my surprise when they’re in the right spot, Charlie takes the lead, running his hands up and down her arms. He’s taller than Dexter so he bends down to whisper something in her ear, something that I can’t hear but makes her flush, and her arms link around his neck and she lifts on her toes, eager to reach him. There’s no way for me to describe their kiss other than after a moment I shut my eyes and count to ten. It’s too much seeing her lean her body into his—seeing the round edge of her ass when his hands reach down and push the fabric up.
Dex slinks in his chair across from me, hand rested on his forehead. He’s struggling. I’m struggling, but it’s George that lets out a low groan as the kiss continues.
“You’re doing that shit on purpose,” he says to his brother, once he and Starlee part. “Making me crazy over here.”
Charlie shrugs but doesn’t deny it, the smirk on his lips giving him away. George pushes past him and without the restraint or patience of his brother or Dex, he reaches down and picks her up, kissing her hard on the mouth.
Starlee laughs at his brashness, wrapping her legs around him and squirming against his hips as his hands cup her butt under her dress. He’s not apologetic and she loves it. Loves him, and it’s so good to see a smile on his face.
His actions cut the tension in the room, giving me a chance to breathe. Watching George isn’t sexy or coy. It’s silly and goofy and he stumbles once, banging into the table and knocking over a votive. Luckily there’s nothing to catch on fire, but wax spills all over the glass table top and we’re all scurrying not to make a mess of the room.
“Jesus,” Dexter says, containing the wax. “Just what we need ten days before my hearing—an arson charge.”
“That wasn’t my fault,” he replies, kissing Starlee once more before lowering her feet to the ground.
“I’ll clean it up, Dex,” she says, touching his arm. “No one’s going to jail for arson.”
“If I am, I’m taking George with me. He’s prettier than I am.”
“No one is going to jail,” she repeats, then looks at me. “I know these boys spoiled the mood, but you still owe me a kiss.”
I’m thankful for the wrecked mood because I was wound tighter than a spring. Too tight, and I know I need more time with her. More space, so I walk over and take her face in my hands and place a gentle kiss on her lips.
“Merry Christmas, Starlee.”
She tilts her head. “That’s all?”
“For now.” I smooth her hair with my hand.
She wraps her arms around me and hugs me tight, knowing exactly what to give each of us when we need it. I just hope we do the same for her.
27
Starlee
The magical glow of Christmas fades fast. After the party, Leelee and I spent the day together binge-watching TV and eating leftovers Tom sent home with us the night before. My grandmother gave Katie a few days off to go visit family, so I’m on office duty for the few guests that we have in the hotel part of the lodge. Things are slow all around and I try to focus on my reading for Lit, but I keep going down the YouTube rabbit hole of Supernatural fan videos instead.
By noon, it’s clear the day is going to be a complete wash.
The sound of car doors slamming is what drags me back to the real world. I peer out the window and recognize Mrs. Delange walking up the sidewalk.
“What do you think that’s about?”
Leelee glances up from her word puzzle book that she got from her brother for Christmas. “Sierra said her licensing review was coming up.”
“Oh right.” I’d forgotten with everything going on. “What happens if she passes? Can the boys come back?”
“In theory I guess, but as long as they’re doing well with their father I doubt they’ll make any changes.”
I watch the social worker climb the steps and enter the residential side of the house. It’ll be good if she can get her license back. Then the boys can come back if they need to. I don’t know if she’ll take in any other foster kids. There’s something about those boys that made her want to open her home to them.
“You could go over and order us some coffee.” She looks at me over her glasses. “Maybe see what’s up.”
“I don’t think Sierra would want me over there.” I go back to the stool in front of the computer. “She’s still worried about me having the runaway flag on my record.”
“Your what?”
Crap. Leelee didn’t know this part of the story. Time to ‘fess up. “It’s my understanding that when I flew out here without permission, Mom called the police and reported me as a runaway. I guess after we worked things out it was never removed. The social workers see me as a 'high risk' neighbor for the boys.” I use air quotes because I can’t with the terminology.
“Well that doesn’t seem right.” She frowns. “Is that why you haven’t been spending much time with the boys lately?”
I didn’t realize she’d noticed. “Yeah some of it. Just trying to make it easier on Sierra.”
“You should have told me.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to bother you with all this.” I didn’t want her to reconsider letting me stay.
“Next time you talk to me, okay? Sometimes adults need to get involved so we can figure things out.”
I move back to the window and stare at the Wayward Sun. I don’t go over but I’m not budging until the social worker leaves. She stays for an hour, walking out with her file folder hugged against her chest. After she drives off, I wait another ten minutes. “Honey just go over and see.”
“Fine. But if she gets mad I’m telling her that you sent me over for pastries.”
“That sounds reasonable. I’d like some Bobby’s Balls if Dexter made some fresh.” Hearing my grandmother talk about “Bobby’s Balls” always catches me somewhere between horrified and hysterical. I just don’t have a sense of humor, at the moment, so I nod and head out the door.
The coffee shop has been dead all day—just like us--and I can tell walking up that Dexter’s using it as a baking day. The scent of butter and sugar slaps me in the face the second I open the front door, followed by Neil Young. I grimace. Neil Young isn’t my favorite—his whiney voice grates on my nerves but I learned the hard way, including an hour-long lecture on him as a solo artist and as a member of Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young, that this wasn’t a popular opinion.
The bell over the door rings and Jake stands behind the counter, holding a copy of the book he’d been assigned over the break. I can’t help but smile at the sight of him reading. He’s come a long way in the last six months.
“Hey,” he says. “Thank god you’re here. How the hell do you say this word?”
He hands over the book and our fingers brush and a feel warmth spread down my limbs. Jake points to the word. “Prodigious.”
“Do you know what it means?”
I look at the sentence for context. “I think it means big or large.”
He smiles. “Thank you. Dexter was getting pissed every time I interrupted him.”
I glance back i
n the kitchen but don’t see him. “I saw Mrs. Delange come and go. How was the appointment?”
He crosses his arms over his chest, giving me a nice view of the long muscle in his forearm. “I think it went pretty well. She just took notes today, going over our files and everything at the house—you know, the basic safety things.”
“When will she find out?”
“I think in two weeks.”
I nod. It’s not quite soon enough but better than nothing. “Where’s Dex?”
“He ran next door for a second. I’m supposed to listen out for the timer.” He makes a face. “I hate being in charge of anything that has to do with the baking. You know how he is.”
A perfectionist.
“I do.” I lean against the counter. “Leelee wants some cream puffs and I’ll take a mocha.”
“You got it.” He turns to make my drink and I watch his broad shoulders and the way they fill out his black T-shirt. Jake is ridiculously handsome and insanely built. I should be used it by now, but I’m not.
“Have you heard anything from the colleges?” I ask, eyeing the muscles in his biceps as he works the coffee press.
“I have a few interviews coming up. Coach sent my tapes in to the interested schools. Hopefully, I’ll hear something by February.”
Everyone’s working on their plans for next year. I’d derailed mine when I flew out here and it’s taken me this long to get my bearings. I don’t even know what I want to do. As if he’s reading my thoughts, he says, “If you ever want to go with me to check out any of the schools, you’re welcome to tag along.”
“Thanks. I’ll definitely think about it.”
