by Cora Carmack
“This,” I whisper against her mouth. “I remember how fucking good this was. To have your legs around me. The way we fit … it’s like you were made for me. I remember how you taste. The sounds you made. If we were alone, I’d show you exactly what you deserve, sweet. You’d come apart on my fingers and my tongue and my cock.” Damn, just imagining what it would feel like to be inside her is enough to make me ache. “Then we’d do it all again. I’d make up for all the days that have passed since I last touched you. Would you let me do that? Or will you try to run from me again?” Her only answer is to close her eyes and let her head fall back. I lower my lips to the hollow of her neck and kiss her pulse. It beats franticly beneath her skin, and my touch is gentle even though all I want to do is crush her against me. “Maybe I should tie you to my bed,” I suggest. “You wouldn’t run then.”
Her right hand comes up to grip my bicep, and she squeezes hard.
“You like that?” Interesting. “You could let go with me, Kalli. I’d take care of you. If you’d let me.”
I pull back from her neck, passing my lips over her jaw first, then the corner of her mouth. But I don’t go any farther than that. I’m okay with being on the offensive, but I want her to be the one to drop the walls. If not, I’m only going to end up climbing them over and over again.
“I—” She swallows, and her eyes flick back and forth between mine. “I don’t know if I can. If I can risk …” I brush my lips over hers, dragging my tongue over her bottom lip, and she moans. I swear to God, I can almost taste the sound on my tongue. So fucking sweet my head spins.
I want her to choose this, but clearly I’m not above playing a little dirty. All I can guess is that she’s been burned before, and she doesn’t want to chance it happening again.
“You’ve got to risk to get the reward,” I tell her, sliding a hand around her waist and inching her just a little closer. “I won’t hurt you, Kalli.”
She exhales sharply, and makes a noise that’s almost a laugh. Pressing her lips together, she looks as if she’s steeling herself. Whether to push me away or pull me closer, I’m not sure. And I don’t get the chance to find out.
Because at that moment, Lennox charges into the kitchen again. “Time for a drinking—damn it. I have the worst timing ever.”
Yes. Yes, she does. Kalli’s hand drops from my arm, but I don’t release her or move away.
“Well, it appears you’ve done your job, Dazzler. Now both of you come celebrate Christmas with us by getting blackout drunk.”
“Gotta say. I’ve never had a Christmas quite like this one.”
Lennox crosses her arms over her chest and says, “You’re welcome. Now come hang out with us.” She refuses to leave the kitchen until we’re with her. And even though I really want to keep Kalli to myself, I meant what I said about her being with her friends. She talks about them as if she’s never really had friends before, at least not that many. And I get the feeling that it’s all tied together with why she’s keeping me at arm’s length and why she was so upset the night we were together. I take her hand as she slides off the counter. She tiptoes across the floor, just in case I missed any glass, and the two of us follow Lennox into the living room. Avery has moved to a spot on the floor just below Jack, leaving half of the couch open for Kalli and me to sit beside Lennox and her boyfriend. I shed my leather jacket, and lay it over the couch arm. It’s a tight squeeze with me on the outside, and Kalli ends up nearly on my lap. I lay one arm along the back of the couch to give us a little extra room. She only hesitates for a few seconds before pressing into my side.
“Alrighty,” Lennox says. “For you newbies, first up is Merry Mustache. You don’t get much simpler than this.” She nods at Mick, and he strides over to the TV and tapes a construction paper mustache a little left and down from the center of the screen. “Thank you, Mick. Now, we put on a variety of Christmas movies that everyone is sick of. You can watch it or don’t. But if during the movie, the fake mustache lines up correctly with someone’s face on the screen, yell Merry Mustache. Everyone else besides the Merry-Mustache-wisher then has to drink. Dazzler, where is your drink?”
I shrug. “You ran me out of the kitchen before I had time.”
“Mick, be your usual amazing self and get Wilder a drink.”
Her boyfriend holds up his own beer in question, and I nod in approval.
“That’s the first game,” Lennox continues.
“First?” Kalli asks. “There’s more than one?”
“Of course. It’s Christmas. No way in hell I want to be sober. And you two,” she points a finger in our direction, “have some catching up to do.”
Mick returns then with my beer, and I nod in thanks. I’m starting to realize that he’s a pretty silent dude. Again, the complete opposite of Lennox. He sits down at the other end of the couch, and Kalli is squeezed even tighter against me.
“Game number two involves the Secret Santa presents.”
“I was supposed to bring a present?” I whisper to Kalli.
Lennox must have stellar hearing because she says, “Don’t worry, Wilder. I’ve got you. I forgot to tell you, so I went ahead and got a second one. Unlike regular Secret Santa, every single one of these presents is alcohol. Because that’s how we roll at Orphan Christmas. We’ll pick numbers, and when it’s your turn to pick a gift, you have to try and guess what type alcohol it is. If you’re right, everyone else has to take a shot. If you’re wrong, you have to.”
“Someone is going to get alcohol poisoning,” Kalli says.
“That’s how we roll at Orphan Christmas,” Jack replies sarcastically.
Kalli laughs, and irritation burns in my chest.
Lennox has us all choose numbers from a hat to determine the order in which we pick our presents. Jack is up first, and when he looks in Kalli's direction, I feel an irrational urge to keep her from looking at him. I lean in close to her. Playing with one of the curls on her shoulder, I say, “Tell me something about you that I don't know.”
She tilts her chin toward me, enough that my lips could meet her cheek if she leaned just a little farther.
“There's a lot you don't know about me.”
“Then we better get started. How about we play a little game of our own? Every time one of us has to drink, we also have to tell the other something about ourselves.”
“Anything?”
“To start.”
“Planning to make it more interesting?”
“With you, I think things can only get more interesting.”
“Len is right about you being a dazzler.”
“You know she's on my side, right?”
“There are sides?”
“Definitely. And I don't want to alarm you or anything, but I'm pretty sure your side is losing. Anytime you want to jump ship, just let me know.”
She rolls her eyes and shakes her head, but she relaxes a little more against me, and I'm hyper aware of the way we're touching from chest to thigh. My blood pounds in my ear, amplified by adrenaline. This night feels important, like I'm coming up on a summit, and if I can just get there, it will open my eyes up to all the things I haven't been able to see before.
As expected, Jack fails to guess what type of alcohol is in his gift, and Lennox hands him a shot glass so he can get acquainted with his gift, a cheap looking bottle of gin. We're on gift number three (after another failed guess for gift number two) when Kalli says quietly, “Merry Mustache.”
The room pauses, and our heads all swivel to the television, and sure enough the mustache has lined up perfectly with a woman's lip.
“Merry Mustache!” Lennox cries. “Everybody drinks but Kalli.”
Kalli grins at me, and I hold her eyes as I tip back my beer and swallow. “Guess that means I'm up first. Anything in particular you want to know?”
She considers for a second, and then draws a finger over my forearm. The contact lasts for one, two, three seconds, and it makes my jeans feel impossibly tight.
> “How many tattoos do you have?”
“In all?” I think for a moment. “Maybe fourteen? Fifteen? My friend Rook is a tattoo artist, and I let him practice on me when he was first starting out.”
Her eyes linger on my forearm, and I'm about to lift it up to give her a better look when Avery guesses her alcohol correctly. A few people cheer and a few others groan when she reveals a bottle of vodka.
There's a group of shot glasses in the center of the coffee table, and each of us reaches out to take one. Avery twists open her bottle, and we pass it around the circle, each pouring a little out. I pour mine first, then Kalli's when she holds her glass out to me.
Lennox laughs and drums her hands against her thighs in anticipation.
“I don't know how she's coherent right now,” Kalli whispers. “She's been drinking since I came over earlier this afternoon to help her cook.”
I look at my own glass, not exactly eager to start mixing beer and liquor. But at least I'll get a little information out of Kalli for it.
“You like to cook?”
“I guess so. It’s relaxing, I think.” Maybe that’s why she was in the kitchen when I came here. A sanctuary of sorts.
Once everyone has his or her vodka poured, Lennox holds hers up in a toast. “Merry freaking Christmas, friends!”
A few people clink their glasses together, and I touch mine to Kalli's. I keep eye contact for a long as I can, and then both of us throw it back. It's definitely not smooth, and I squint while the burn settles in my chest. Kalli doesn't even bat an eye.
“Damn. Somebody is a pro.”
She shrugs. “I've had some practice.”
“That doesn't count for your thing. I want to know something I can't figure out by watching you.” Because God knows I’m going to be doing that all night.
She catches her bottom lip between her teeth and holds it there while she thinks. When she lets it go, it's a dark red. It reminds me of the inside of a plum, and shit … I should just not compare her mouth to fruit. The thought of kissing her is already on repeat in my head, and that's doing nothing to make it slow down. It’s this steady thrum in my ears, a not-so-gentle urging to touch her, and I’ve never felt this dangerously close to losing control of my own impulses.
“I … I don't know what to tell you.”
“What do you like to do for fun?”
She shrugs. “Come on. Give me something. You into reading? Movies? Dancing?”
“I told you I like cooking.”
“Doesn’t count. That was before I actually took the drink. Give me something else.”
“I used to like poetry.” Used to? How is it that I can never get a straight answer out of this girl? Over anything. Hell, I could probably ask her favorite color, and she wouldn’t give me a real answer. “Your turn,” she prompts before I have a chance to dig deeper. “That night in your bathroom …”
“I like where this is going. Does this mean you’re officially jumping ship for the winning side?”
She doesn’t even acknowledge my flirty tone. “You said … you said that everything changed. That you couldn’t do what you wanted anymore. I want to know what changed.”
Damn. Right for the kill shot. I’m saved from trying to figure out how to talk about my dad without ruining the whole night when Lennox asks, “Who’s got number four? Number four?”
I look down at my slip at the same time that she says, “Wilder? Are you fourth?”
“Yeah. That’s me.”
I stand and shoot a quick look to Kalli. Her brows are pinched as she watches me, and I buy myself some time with a smile. I look over the remaining presents. They’re all wrapped in paper, so there’s no chance of peeking inside a gift bag. I pick one of the bigger ones, and return to my seat. Kalli shifts beside me, turning on her hip, and this time it’s her arm across the couch behind us. I run my hands over the outside of the gift, feeling for the shape of the bottle beneath it. It’s heavy, definitely glass not plastic. It’s shaped like an old-fashioned decanter with rectangular cork style top. I smile. “What if I can guess the brand too? Will everyone else have to drink twice?”
Everyone looks wary but Lennox. “Oh come on, people. Have you ever been in a liquor store? Do you know how many different brands there are? He’s not going to get it. And even if he does, it’s two shots. You’ll live.”
“Not all of us can consume alcohol like it’s water,” Avery says.
“I’d like to keep my liver for a few more years at least,” Jack quips. Avery laughs, and I’m way too pleased to not hear Kalli do the same.
“I’ll do two shots if I’m wrong,” I offer.
“Three,” Kalli replies. “If you’re so sure.”
I laugh, and she gives me this challenging look that goes straight to my dick. She could have told me to climb one of the skyscrapers downtown, and I would have tried for that look. “Sure I’ll do three.”
One by one, the rest of the room agrees, and I say, “It’s 1800 tequila.”
One of the girls whose name I can’t keep track of groans, and I’m guessing it was hers. I peel away the paper, and the familiar top of the bottle comes into view. One more tug and the rest of the paper gives way, revealing that I’m right. Someone drops the f-bomb right before Lennox gives a maniacal laugh.
“How did you know?” Kalli asks.
I shrug. “I’ve had a lot of tequila in my life?” Most of that I blame on Rook. “Plus, the cork on this one doubles as a shot glass. It’s come in handy a few times.”
I twist and pull the top until it comes loose. “Who’s ready to do shots of tequila?”
Avery actually looks sick at the thought. “Do we have limes or something?”
“I don’t think we have any,” Lennox answers.
“Chaser break?” Mick offers. “Go raid the fridge if you need something to wash it down.”
I place the bottle down on the coffee table and lean back into the couch. I can feel the pressure of Kalli’s arm behind me, and she’s still sitting on her hip, tilted toward me. For the first time all night, I’m able to resist looking at her as people evacuate to the kitchen, but that’s just because I know what will happen after I look at her. I see Mick walk to the kitchen out the corner of my eye, and Lennox follows close behind. In a matter of moments, it’s just Jack and us in the living room.
Kalli stays close by my side even though the rest of the couch is open. Jack glares at me for a moment before he, too, stands and goes into the kitchen. She slides away just an inch, and for just a moment, I think I feel her touch the collar of my shirt. But it’s gone before I can be certain.
“What changed?” she asks.
I sigh. “This isn’t exactly normal get-to-know you talk.”
“I thought we ruled out normal.”
I look at her, and for a moment I get lost in her face. The high arch of her cheekbones and impossibly long eyelashes and perfectly symmetrical features—she’s stunning. Absolutely stunning, and I keep thinking I’ll get used to it. That it will stop twisting my insides with want eventually, but I kind of hope it doesn’t. I hope she always makes me feel this way. Because it makes me willing to do some crazy shit. Like come to a party full of strangers and put myself on the line and tell her about my dad. And I just don’t talk about that shit. Not with Rook or Owen or Bridget. Not with anyone.
“About a year ago my father was convicted of fraud and embezzlement. He was sentenced to forty-five years in prison, and my mom lost her house, her car, any asset that had my dad’s name on it, which was pretty much everything. We knew it was coming. The evidence against him was pretty damning. It was just a matter of how long and how much he’d owe in restitution. I came home a few months before the conviction. I applied to school, and a family friend helped get me into the business program last minute. I got a normal job in an office and started saving money for the inevitable. So yeah, everything changed. I had to step up. It was time for me to quit messing around and be a real, productive member of s
ociety and all that shit.”
When I finish, the living room is silent, filled only with the echoing conversations happening in the kitchen. I rub the palm of my left hand over the knuckles on my right, and glance at the Atlas tattoo that she’d been fascinated with. Rook and I had been about halfway through with my sleeve when I changed my mind and told him I wanted that on my forearm instead of our original idea. He’d reworked the design to fit in the mythic figure.
I’d been regretting it for a while by the time Kalli had pointed it out that night. It was back when I’d first returned home, and I was wrestling with bitterness over what Dad had done and what I’d chosen to do because of it. Then I got more comfortable around Gwen. I saw the toll that it was taking on Mom. I got used to not being in the bars night after night. And I didn’t miss it as much as I thought I would. I missed parts of it sure. My friends. The freedom. The fun. But worse than the thought of losing that was the feeling every time I looked at my arm and remembered that there had been a point when I’d considered my family a burden. A punishment. Gotta love feeling like a selfish bastard every time you catch sight of your own arm.
When Kalli had told me, all matter of fact, that it wasn’t the world that Atlas held up, but the heavens … she’d changed the tattoo for me. When I’d woken up the next morning, the first thing I did after searching the house and coming up empty was to jump on the Internet and see if she was right.
She was.
Not that I’d expected anything different. By that point she was already taking on mythic proportions of her own in my head. Now, I could look at that tattoo and see not a burden, but a responsibility. The ink held strength instead of bitterness.
