Page 4 of Naughty & Nice
But being alone…
No, thank you.
“Yeah,” I say, plastering a fake smile on my face—one which I pray my best friend falls for. “I’m just excited to hit the road.”
“Same,” Hendrix sighs, falling back into his seat. “I am so ready for it.”
“You know,” Wilder says, also getting comfortable in the back for the first leg of our trip, “when you first told me about your plans, I thought it sounded pretty dull. But I think you’re right. This vacation is going to be epic.” Unable to stop myself, I glance back and my stomach twists at the smirk playing on his lips. It’s full of promises of things I don’t want…
2
WILDER
Irest my head back and slump lower in the seat.
Hanging out with my twin brother and his bestie in a remote cabin in Canada was not a part of my holiday plans.
I was supposed to be heading toward the ocean for ten days of sun, sex, and relaxation. I wanted to fuck a different girl every night, drink my body weight in alcohol, and sleep until sunset.
No, it’s not a very festive way to spend the holidays, but fuck it. It was going to be perfect for me.
I’ve never been a huge fan of the holidays. They always sucked sweaty balls when we were kids.
I remember watching the commercials of happy families enjoying spending time together as a kid. The decorations, the roaring fires, the gifts…
It was nothing but a tragic reminder of the life we didn’t get to live.
Sure, we always had gifts. But only because our big sister ensured there was something for us to open.
It rips me apart inside if I think too hard about what she experienced before we were old enough to return the favor.
I’ve tried talking to her about it a time or two, but she just shuts it down, telling me it’s unnecessary to dwell on thosetimes. I’ve no idea if she does that to protect herself or me. Or maybe a little of both.
Our childhoods were horrific. I can’t really argue with her not wanting to talk about it. If I had my way, I wouldn’t even think about it.
Losing myself in thoughts of Christmases gone by, the darkness I try to keep banished to the peripheral threatens.
Just when I don’t think I’m going to be able to drag myself back, the song playing through the car changes and a soft female voice floats through my ears.
My skin pricks with goosebumps as I latch onto the words she’s singing.
“Mariah Carey, really?” I ask.
“What?” Noelle says, breaking the tune. “It’s the holidays. It’s like… tradition.”
“One I could do without,” I mutter, keeping my eyes locked on the back of her head, waiting to see if she’s going to risk looking back at me again.
The last time she did, I swear it was almost like getting shot at point blank, the way the chemistry crackled between us.
It takes a couple of seconds, but eventually, she turns.
Her entire body flinches when she finds me waiting for her.
“I get that it’s the holidays, but can we cancel all the festive shit?”
Her eyes narrow, anger flickering through her green orbs.
“Just because your vacation has been ruined,” my brother snaps from the driver’s seat, “it doesn’t mean you need to fuck ours up as well.”