Page 40 of Merry Mischief List
He rolls off me, and I already miss the contact.
“It’s okay, I—”Enjoyed it?Wish you’d come back?“Goodnight.”Goodnight? The fuck was that?
The sound of shuffling blankets from Porter settling back on his side fills the air between us. “Sweet dreams, Andi.”
14
ANDI
“Change of plans,” Porter says as I walk down the stairs. “Can’t do today’s item. Gotta reschedule it.”
“Aww, man,” I say, pouting. “What was it?”
“Nice try.” He turns his back, putting dishes away.
I pull out the list and look down at it. A smirk spreads across my face.
“Guess today’s the day I let an elf lick whipped cream off my tits.”
“What?” Porter’s head whips in my direction.
“Yeah.” I shrug. “Seems like an easy enough one.”
“Where the hell are you gonna find an elf?”
* * *
We walk into Crystal Bay Mall, whipped cream securely stored in my purse, and Porter shakes his head.
“Really?” he asks rhetorically. “Amallelf?”
“I’m sorry, do you have a better idea?” His jaw ticks as he looks away from me. “Besides, it’s a win-win. Some nerdy guy gets to live out his childhood dream of licking a girl’s tits, and I’ll be one step closer to crushing Stella.”
“Mm-hmm,” Porter hums.
We pass through the food court and make our way to Santa’s village. The line is easily thirty families deep and backs up all the way to Pizza by the Slice. I groan, stepping behind the last kid, who’s explaining his plan to his dad about asking Santa for a Nintendo Switch. He looks to be about eight years old, and he’s presenting the reasoning to his father like he’s a Harvard-educated lawyer.
“I’ll be right back,” Porter says before disappearing behind the mock Christmas cottage.
“And honestly, I’m really asking for the entire family,” the little boy before me continues. “Think of all the quality family time we’ll get together playing Mario Kart!”
I’ve moved forward about ten kids by the time Porter returns.
“Where’d you go?” I ask, seeing no bags in his hands.
“Bathroom.”
“You dig a hole outside? Worked for me.”
“Real funny,” he says, narrowing his eyes in amusement. “So what’s your plan here? You’re just gonna go up to Santa and say, ‘Can you spare an elf for a moment so he can lick some whipped cream clean off my titties? Please and thank you.’”
A mother in front of us turns around and glares at Porter, covering her kid’s ears while her husband steals a glance at my chest.
“No, actually.” I smile sweetly. “First, I was gonna ask Santa if I could borrowhim,and get one more thing marked off the list.”
Porter doesn’t need to know I’m bluffing.
He brings his mouth to my ear and whispers, “There’s no way I’m letting you blow a goddamn mall Santa.”
