Page 35 of Merry Mischief List
After dinner, Andi demolishes a slice of candy cane pie. When we finally stand to leave, I do a quick stretch to help ease the muscles in my aching back.
“Okay, that’s it,” Andi says, staring at me unamused. “You are not staying on the sofa again tonight. You clearly can’t deal with sleeping on your very attractive albeit utterly uncomfortable couch. I swear modern furniture wasn’t made for true functionality—only to look pretty in show rooms and rich guy penthouses.” I roll my lips together, fighting the urge to smile because she’s a hundred percent right. Her eyes widen, and a laugh spills out. “Youareone of those rich guys who never uses his couch, aren’t you?”
“The girl from the furniture store said it would fit nicely with the rest of the stuff I picked out,” I reply.
“Was that before or after youbonedher?” Andi asks, face full of amusement.
My brows pull together as I wonder how she can read me so well. “After…”
A laugh bursts out of her as we make our way to the exit. “Of course.” She pauses a step before the doorway, eyes glued above us. I follow her gaze, landing on a mistletoe hung on the frame.
“Item number eight,” Andi says, eyes bouncing around the restaurant.
“What are you looking for?”
“Someone to help me complete the mistletoe challenge.”
My eyes drop to her lips as she continues her search.
Is she really looking for someone else?
Then again, I have made it clear I can’t because… why?She’s too young? A student? Jess’s sister?
My mind struggles to choose exactly which reason is holding me back. Or if I even give a shit about any of them anymore.
She toys with her necklace, and all my inhibitions exit the diner.
Maybe an innocent kiss is exactly what I need to get her out of my system.
Fuck it.
Taking a step forward, I slide a hand into her hair, cradling her face. My heart pounds as my other hand snakes around her waist, and I pull her with me, directly under the mistletoe.
“What are you—”
My lips cut off her unnecessary question. She’s tense for mere seconds before melting to putty in my hands. She tastes like cinnamon and peppermint. Sensual sin and sweet salvation. There’s a reason people make candles out of this. It’s addicting.
Another quick kiss, and I force myself to pull away.
“There. Item complete. Let’s go,” I say, gesturing towards the exit, hoping she’ll leave before I get the urge to mark the item off twice. She stares at me for a moment, a hand coming up to touch her swollen lips, then turns and walks out of the diner.
For a guy so good at strategizing, I didn’t see this blind side coming.
One kiss was supposed to get her out of my system. Instead I’ve been left with an unsatisfied sweet tooth, craving another taste of cinnamon, peppermint, andher.
13
ANDI
The perfectly tucked down comforter taunts us to ruffle its feathers.
Porter kissed me.
Whydidhe kiss me?
Or rather, why did he kiss me likethat?
His arms around my waist. Lips warm and eager. I would’ve expected friendly and calculating. Not spontaneous and passionate.Being wrong never felt so right.
