Page 47 of Thresholds

I should've gone with the guys to find the right combination of jewels and silk. Shannon was off her damn rocker. Alex and I had strict rules about where and how we stored our photos, and none of those included linesketches.

Fuck. Just…fuck. Christmas number one, up in flames. Down in shambles. Fucked rightover.

This could only be worse if I actually started afire.

She turned the package over, her brows knit together and her lips folded in concentration, and starting a fire sounded like a damn good idea rightnow.

Her finger slipped under the twine and I darted across the room, snatching it from her hands without considering my nextmove.

"I—uh—no," I stammered, holding the gift over my head. Alex couldn't reach it up there, and in this moment, a game of keep-away was the best, most mature solutionavailable.

She crossed her arms and dropped onto the sofa as if I ripped presents out of her hands every day and this was the pinnacle of normal behavior. "What are you doing?" sheasked.

"I don't know," I admitted. "I'm a li-li-li-li-littlenervous."

"Why? Did you weld a set of nippleclamps?"

"No, I don't know anything about metallurgy, and I wasn't going to call up my college friends for a chat involving the specifications of your nippular regions,Alexandra."

"It sounds like you've given it real thought," shereplied.

I scrubbed a hand down my face. The other hand was still in the goddamn air. "No," I said from behind my fingers. "I didn't consider welding nipple clamps. For fuck'ssake."

"Can we open them together?" she asked. "If it helps, I’m just as nervous as youare."

I peeked at her through my fingers. "You don't look nervous. I look nervous. Real fuckin' nervous. You look like you're watching a rerun ofFriends."

"It's a skill perfected over years of internship and residency," she replied. "No one trusts an anxious surgeon." She patted the cushion beside her. "Don't let me sit here all bymyself."

I went. I didn't want to stand there, my hand suspended over my head like a moron, when I could scoop Alex up and deposit her in my lap. She held out a tiny box and I surrendered hergift.

"Together," she repeated, a note of warning in hervoice.

"No shenanies," Ipromised.

I watched over her shoulder as she peeled back the paper and found the framed drawing. I wasn't opening my gift—it could wait an ever-loving second—but listened to her hums and breaths as she studied my portrait ofher.

"Riley."

I didn't know how to interpret that tone. I was starting to think about protecting my testicles. "Mmhmm?"

"Riley," Alex repeated, her fingers flying to her lips. "You did this?" Like a kid caught red-handed, I nodded. "Is this—" She hummed, her fingers still on her lips. "Is this what you see? When you look atme?"

"Yes," I said. "Why? Do you hate it? I'll destroy it right now if you hate. Burn every last inch ofit."

"I don't hate it at all." Her hand ghosted over the portrait, her index finger tracing the faint lines of the honeycomb I'd sketched into the background. "I look,uh—"

"Amazing," I whispered against her neck. "Luscious. Filthy. Perfect. Allmine."

"You did this. I can't believe you made this for me," she said through a watery laugh. "You made this and I look like—like—beautiful, and I can't believe it. Jesus. My giftsucks."

"Unless it's a blowjob, I doubtthat."

Alex laughed and pressed the frame to her chest. "You were supposed to open yours," she chided, her tone too gentle to feel like censure. "Together. At the same time. You andme."

"Sorry," I mumbled, yanking the ribbon from around the box. "You come first, me second." I pried open the box, surprised she didn't grab the joke I'd teed up, and found a key inside. "It's akey."

"It is a key," Alex said with a stiff laugh. "It's a key to my apartment." She shrugged and stared at the frame again. "I thought maybe you'd want to stay heresometimes."