Page 5 of Naughty & Nice

Noelle smirks and turns back around, happy that I’ve been put in my place by my very slightly older brother.

Asshole.

“Then maybe you should have planned something a little more fun. A cabin in the woods... So cliche.”

“Would you like me to pull over?” Hendrix threatens. “It’s not too late to change your mind and stay home alone.”

I roll my eyes hard. “Keep your lace panties on, Bro.”

His grip on the wheel tightens and his neck pulsates with tension.

“We’re going to have fun together.” I lean forward, once again hooking my arms around both of their chairs. “Right?” I ask as I shamelessly graze my knuckles down Noelle’s neck.

She reacts to my touch just like she did earlier.

Fire burns through my veins as I remember the last time I had my hands on her.

Halloween.

I didn’t even realize it was her… until it was too late.

I should have stopped immediately.

I should have regretted it.

Hell, there are a lot of fucking things that I should have done both that night and after, but here I am instead, taunting her with what we discovered that night.

We’ve barely seen each other since.

Sure, she’s been at my games with Hendrix. She’s been at the house when I’ve swung by for a visit… or to raid their kitchen for food. But she’s always made an excuse to disappear to her room.

As far as I can tell, Hendrix hasn’t noticed. Or if he has, he hasn’t cared enough to question it.

No. He hasn’t noticed. Noelle is far too important to him not to say anything if he thinks something is up with her.

He is usually much more in sync with her than this. She must be putting a hell of an effort into hiding what happened.

Mischief stirs within me.

I might tease them, but something tells me that there’s going to be nothing boring about us being on this vacation together.

Noelle doesn’t continue with her singing. In fact, she says absolutely nothing as we continue on what feels like an endless road.

“Your snacks are shit,” I complain, having eaten my way through the good stuff. “Who brings fruit as a road trip treat? What the—” I gasp when a small, feminine hand reaches into the back of the car, snatching the container of fruit from my grasp.

“As an athlete, you should understand why it’s important not to fill your body with crap.”

“Road trips don’t count,” I mutter, rummaging at the bottom of the bag for any lingering candy.

Not finding anything, I fall back into the seat and look out. There is nothing but fields surrounding us.

“Can you pull over? I need to piss.”

“We’re not stopping yet,” Hendrix states.

“Bro,” I warn.

“You can wait,” he counters.