She nods, and I head to my car, already feeling my good mood drop. I’ll be going home to a big, empty house with no Christmas tree. No Santa. No Allie. No Angel.
The files to get Angel’s name changed are in my hand, and I stare at the manila envelope that holds them. Just a few months. That’s how long it’s been since the dynamic duo crash landed in my life, and that’s when I finally started doing more than existing. That’s when I finally started feeling.
I’ve had empathy. I’ve worried about my friends. I love and care about my friends and my mother. Fuck Billy—but I care about the rest of my family. Well, Keith can kiss my damn ass. He’s a cocksucker.
But Allie and Angel… It’s a whole other level of feeling.
Tossing my present gently into the passenger seat of my car, I stare at the house. Angel’s light goes off, which means Allie just tucked her in. She’s probably kissing her goodnight.
“Fuck this.”
I get back out, quietly shut my door, and jog around to the side of the house where Allie’s room is. I start to knock on the glass, but she’s moving inside of her room, shutting the door, and her shirt comes off immediately.
Like a fucking pervert, I stand and watch. But why the hell am I watching? I want to be touching.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The quiet rapping draws her attention, and she jumps when she sees me. It takes her a second to realize it’s me, and she slowly uncovers her bra-covered chest as she makes her way toward the window with questioning, confused, beautiful green eyes.
“Wren?” she prompts, opening the window.
I don’t give her time to question me before I grip the edge and pull myself up. She moves back as I haul myself through the window and drop… and keep dropping. Fuck.
A grunt falls through my lips as I land on the bedroom floor, and it takes a second to breathe again. Son of a bitch, that shit hurts. It always looks so much cooler in the movies—and smoother.
Then I hear the light laughter, and my eyes move up to meet Allie’s that are teeming with humor.
“Out of practice?” she asks, far too amused as I struggle to get up, ignoring the painful breaths as I try to regain badass points.
“I’ve never actually had to climb through a girl’s bedroom window before.”
As I walk toward her, she keeps a small smile playing on her lips while she cocks her head to the side.
“Why is that?” she asks in a flirty tone.
My cockiest grin kicks up as I pull her to me. She leans her head back so that her eyes meet mine.
“Because I’m Wren Prize.”
Her smile grows as a hint of blush crawls up her cheeks, and she wraps her arms around my neck without protest.
“What are you doing in my bedroom, Wren Prize?”
I lean down, kissing just the corner of her mouth, before walking her backwards toward the bed. “Getting hard,” I crassly answer, enjoying the way her eyes grow big and her mouth falls open.
I laugh while pushing her up on the bed, and she watches me with soft eyes, running the length of my body with her gaze.
“You know this is risky. Angel has nightmares sometimes. She could wake up and come in here. She’s not even asleep yet.”
Good thing I’m persistent.
“I’ll sleep on the side near the window. If she comes in, I’ll drop quietly to the floor and hide out until she’s asleep. I’ll sneak out before she wakes up. Or I’ll make it look like I just got here. My bags are still in my car, so I have clothes. Don’t make me spend tonight alone.”
Yeah. I’m not above using the Christmas guilt here. I want Allie in my arms, under me, on top of me, beside me. I don’t care where she is as long as she’s near me. I’m fucking obsessed, and I love it as much as I hate it.
“You can really get out of sight if she comes in?” she asks, seeming hopeful.
“No doubt. I don’t want to leave.”
She almost looks relieved, and she pulls me to her, kissing me before I can react, and I grab her bare hips, pulling her to me, relishing the taste of her lips.
“Good. Because I slept like hell without you here. You had so better not have messed up sleep for me,” she grumbles, and I can’t help but smile.
I’m an asshole for hoping she can’t sleep without me ever again.
***
ALLIE
Stupid? Yes. This is exactly what it means to be kissed stupid. Wren Prize makes me a true dumb blonde. And I’ve really always hated that damn cliché judgement.
But when he flicks that tongue inside my mouth, my brain automatically brings memories forth of him flicking that tongue somewhere else. That sets off a chain reaction, and heat pools between my thighs.