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Carly nods, letting him go and sashaying back to the kitchen to get her own plate. “Nice list lifetime member, right here.”

Since Laurel made me Rafe’s unofficial date, I’m seated beside him at the dinner table. As I take my seat, Rafe looks over at me again—still watching. Still waiting. I flash him another smile, then dig into my salad.

Once the salads are finished, we all play personal waitress to “our” men again, clearing away their dishes and bringing out the main course. It’s one of the stupidest things that has ever pleased me, but I won’t lie, I’m pleased as hell to be doing it. I know Rafe didn’t invite me himself, but I’m so glad Laurel did. It was both the best and worst thing she has ever done, because now every Christmas following this one will be haunted by this memory. When the next Cassandra is filling the seat beside him, I’ll have this memory of when it was me.

They’re all intent on destroying my peace of mind. I probably should try harder to stop them, but damn, how am I supposed to turn down a chance to see what the holidays are like with Rafe?

“So, Virginia, how did you get caught up in the Morelli web?” Carly inquires.

“Oh, I’m not in any web,” I tell her, shaking my head and taking a sip of my wine. “Rafe and I are just friends.”

“I can’t picture Rafe having platonic female friends,” she comments.

“Well, technically I’m just his waitress, but given my presence here, that’s a little weirder, isn’t it? So we’ll go with friend. Though, on reflection, you were just wondering whether or not we’re sle

eping together, weren’t you? The answer is no,” I offer.

Carly blinks at me, her fork frozen in the air. “Okay.”

“I think she was just trying to get to know you,” Laurel offers, blushing.

“Mm, no. Slight emphasis on platonic, plus her reaction when Rafe brought me to the hospital to meet Nicholas. I’m not offended, I completely understand, but she’s in protective mama bear mode, making sure I’m not some newbie skank sniffing around Laurel’s territory. I’m not here to step on any toes, I promise. I’m honestly just a friend to all the Vegas inhabitants situated around this table. I’m friends with Sin, too.”

“I don’t have friends,” Sin states.

“We’re friends,” I insist.

“We’re acquaintances,” he tells me.

“This is awkward. I was making us matching bracelets with ‘besties forever’ spelled out in beads. Should I stop?”

Sin rolls his eyes at me and turns his attention back to helping Skylar eat her food so she doesn’t make a mess all over her cute Christmas dress.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Rafe smirking. “What, I don’t get a bracelet?”

“If Sin doesn’t want his, I guess you can have it,” I offer.

“Thanks,” he says dryly.

9

Rafe

Once dinner is finished and everyone is stuffed full of dessert—warm brookies with vanilla ice cream—we’re all forced to watch one of Carly and Laurel’s favorite Smallville Christmas episodes, aptly titled Lexmas.

Somehow, the women still have room for popcorn, and they pass a bowl back and forth while I wonder where the hell they’re putting it. Vince and Sin seem to be more accustomed to their eating habits and think nothing of post-dinner popcorn—or the bad Superman show we’re forced to sit through—but about ten minutes into the episode, Virginia starts side-eying me.

I lean in to whisper, “This was not my choice.”

Since there’s only so much couch space and Sin isn’t hospitable, Sin, Laurel, and Carly are on the couch, Vince is parked on the floor in front of Carly, and Virginia and I are on the floor, couch-adjacent. I didn’t want to sit by Vince, so I put her between us. Watching Vince get hit in the head with the popcorn bowl as Carly passed it to Virginia made these seating arrangements entirely worth it.

Virginia bobs in my direction and murmurs, “Likely story. I bet you got Laurel hooked on this show when you dated. I bet it’s your favorite.”

I roll my eyes. “Damn, my secret’s out.”

“It’s okay,” Virginia assures me. “We all like bad shows from time to time. I went through a phase where I watched America’s Next Top Model. If I had to miss an episode, I would record it and watch it later.”

“That’s horrifying,” I tell her.


Tags: Sam Mariano Vegas Morellis Erotic