Through clenched teeth, my mother explains, “Because women have enough to do during the holidays. This way, we sign and send cards when our schedules have finally calmed down, during the week after Christmas. And nobody actually cares when their Christmas card arrives.”
I roll my eyes, for my own benefit since she can’t actually see my face. “In that case, why send them at all, if nobody cares?”
“One point two million Instagram followers and seven new corporate contracts thought it was brilliant enough.”
“Well, you are turning 41 this year, so you should accept all the free skincare products you can get.”
“You got your sense of humor from your father. And I’m turning 39 this year, thank you very much.”
I glance around her to Crosby, who catches my eye. The photographer scolds me, and I snap back to attention, but I savor the little look he gave me.
While Mother and Neil and I are dressed for the black tie affair of the year, Crosby wears a vivid green velvet jacket and a plaid necktie with a Star Trek: The Next Generation tee-shirt. He looks like a Christmas elf at a science fiction convention. My mother must be absolutely livid about it.
For the rest of the photo shoot, my smiles are completely warm and genuine and come from a deeply satisfied place inside of me.
12
Crosby
I can’t wait for this party to end so I can see what it feels like to hold Ridley’s body against me while she’s wearing a cocktail dress with the coverage of a slip. That dress blinds me whenever she struts around the room, catching the holiday lights with its very large silver sequin things that would make pretty decent body armor for one of my game characters.
I wait until Bianca is plenty toasted and distracted with her A-list guests before pulling Ridley into the coat closet.
She yelps when I close the door, leaving us together, alone, in complete darkness except for the light beaming in from under the door.
“You couldn’t find some mistletoe?”
I hold her tight to me while she laughs, still surprised by my eagerness and brazenness. With my free hand I stroke down her body. “Careful,” she says. “It’s hard to get the sequins back into place just right if you mess with them too much.”
I force my big mitts to go easy with the caresses over the sequins, even though all I want to do is rip this dress off her. “These things are going to cut me or choke me, one or the other.”
I hear her smile in the dark. “That’s kind of hot, though, right?”
My lips trace a line down her neck, stopping to savor the warm valley between her soft breasts.
I stroke the outside of her thigh, shoving the dress up high so I can palm her ass then spank it.
“Careful, nerd. You leave a mark and the swim team will talk.”
I laugh and suck the skin just above her plunging neckline into my mouth.
“Let ’em talk, you’re a grown-ass college student. How about I leave you some hickies for good measure?”
Her body stiffens.
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I was just messing around. I won’t leave a mark.”
“It’s nothing. I just remembered something about school. I’m…uhm…a little worried about my grades, that’s all.”
I pull her dress all the way up, slide her lacy thong to one side, and slip my fingers gently between her folds. Ridley sucks her breath in through her teeth and mutters my name.
“Then allow me to fuck that worry out of you.”
Her legs go weak and the two of us tumble to the floor of the closet, taking a pile of expensive fur,
camel hair and wool coats with us. I coax her clit with my fingers as we lie together in the dark.
“You’re so bad,” she whispers. “I thought nerds were supposed to be rule followers.”