Arin waved Jewell’s concern away. “Go. I’ll probably fix myself a snack in the kitchen then take a nap while you’re gone. We’ll catch up when you get back.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.” Jumping off the bed, Arin grabbed her friend in a hug. “Thank you for inviting me. I hate spending Christmas alone.”
Jewell hugged her back. “You don’t see any of your friends during the holidays?”
“Most of them are married, too busy, or have gone home for a visit. You’re saving me from being alone.” Arin didn’t tell her that she only had a couple of people whom she could call friends, if that. She had a feeling both of them invited her into their circle because they felt sorry for her. She’d always been a loner who others felt sorry for, something Marcus had taken advantage of.
Her marriage had been a disaster from the get-go. The sex between them before they had married had been okay, but once the ring had been put on her finger, it had become something to avoid until she and Marcus would end up arguing over it until she gave in just to end the insults he would shout at her.
It wasn’t like she hadn’t wanted to have sex with him; it was the uncomplimentary jabs layered with the way he liked to have sex that she had tried to avoid. He had wanted her to do all the work in bed with him touching her as little as possible. He hated her breasts, and no matter how much weight she had lost to make him happy, her breasts just became more pronounced. Finally, when she was never going to be able to satisfy him, and he certainly had no intention of fulfilling her needs, she had packed her suitcases after their last night together and had moved out. He had demeaned her one too many times during and after sex, which had left her hating herself for giving in to the cruel barbs to get her to agree. She detested herself for letting him walk all over her. As far as she was concerned, his ridiculing ass could find the woman of his dreams that he’d constantly told her she wasn’t. She hoped he found her, all one hundred and one pounds of her, and Arin hoped she wouldn’t give him the time of day—much like Marcus behaved toward her. He hadn’t even cared enough to call. Not only that, he’d changed the locks in case she’d wanted to go back for her things. She hadn’t. Arin had left her marriage with the clothes on her back and what had been packed in one suitcase.
The dissolution of her marriage had given her the incentive to do everything Marcus had warned her against. She had quit her nine-to-five job and had started her own business. She picked her own clothes out, ones that exposed her generous cleavage, wore makeup that he swore made her look like a whore, and regularly bought a box of chocolates to keep on the counter just so she could have one anytime she wanted.
Jewell released her to search her expression with an astute gaze. “Marcus isn’t up to his old tricks, is he?”
“No! I promised you I would tell you if he was.”
“If I find out he’s been mouthing off to you again and you haven’t told me, I swear, Arin, I’m going to take the Christmas present I got you back.”
“That’s not a real threat until I know what it is.”
Jewell stepped away to grab her purse. “Nope. You’re not going to trick me into telling you what it is. You’ll have to wait until Christmas morning, just like I have to wait for yours.”
Curling her arm through Arin’s, Jewell led her to the door. “Don’t get in trouble while I’m gone. The men can be pretty rowdy on Friday nights. With the game starting tomorrow, they’re going to do their best to hook up with you tonight. We’re going to draw names in the morning.”
“I can’t believe I’m going to do this. Viper said it was all right if I play?”
“Yes. We’re one man short, but Viper is going to ask if any of the brothers want two Santas.” Jewell rolled her eyes. “They’ll all volunteer for that. We usually share, anyway.” She shrugged.
“Oh God.” Not for the first time, the crazy, sexual adventure that she had planned months in advance was becoming scarier by the minute.
“Relax, Arin. It’s just a game. You can make it as naughty or nice as you want. Viper is going to make sure the brother that gets your name gets another, too. That way, if you decide you don’t want to participate in the naughty part of the game, the brother won’t be left with an empty bed.”
Her indecision fled. “I told you that I have every intention of playing the naughty part. If I’m going to do this, I want to be his only Santa.”