Page 98 of A Lucky Shot

“Unlock it, unlock it, unlock it,” he pleaded, breath misting around him as he stamped his feet by the door with his arms laden with Tupperware. “Sweet holy hell, it’s colder than a mother-in-law’s kiss out here.”

Whatever she had expected, that wasn’t it. Cass clicked the door release and let a cackle escape into the night. “Colder than a mother-in-law’s kiss? I haven’t heard that one before.”

“My mother is Australian,” he said, jumping into the passenger’s side and slamming the door. “I’ve got a ton of those expressions chambered.”

What was this? A personal anecdote, freely given? It was like a fae prince had trusted her with his name. Her heart squeezed between her ribs, and she started the engine.

Josh cuddled a dish on his lap, steam rising from under the loosely wrapped lid. “Would it be weird if I held the Brussels sprouts while we drove? I don’t know how you got used to the cold.”

“I don’t know if you ever get used to it, but it’s amazing what you can learn to tolerate,” she said, and threw her truck into gear.

The roads late Christmas Eve were empty. Josh was still curled around the dish of leftovers as she pulled up to his rental. The snow crunched under the tires as she slowed, then stopped in the middle of the road. She cut the engine, and they sat listening to the truck ticking and sighing as it cooled in the night.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” she blurted.

Josh turned his head to look at her. The shadows obscured his face, and said nothing.

“I was going to go to my family’s, but they made other plans.” She rambled, “We can wear comfy pyjamas and watch movies and have hot chocolate, and we even have leftovers, so food is covered. I can pick you up in the morning.” She looked down into her hands, folded on her lap. “If you aren’t doing anything, I mean.”

“Or,” he said, running his tongue over his teeth, “I could grab my things and come over now.”

Josh in her apartment. In her bedroom. After what just happened at Libby’s. And still not knowing where she stood. Cass gripped the steering wheel with her gloved hands and stared out into the empty street.

“I’m not having sex with you,” she said stoically.

His shoulders caved with repressed laughter. “I said nothing about sex, despite you leaving me with the worst case of blue balls I’ve had since I was seventeen?—”

“Don’t blame me! I didn’t shove my hands down your pants.”

“If you had, I wouldn’t have stopped you,” he said. “And I don’t remember you having any objections.”

And that is exactly why this is a bad idea, she thought. On both counts.

“I have way too much turkey in me to think about making a move on you tonight,” he continued. “I’m being selfish. I’m thinking about saving myself from being outside again. Plus, it’s still early. We can watch a movie tonight.”

“You’d have to sleep on the couch.”

“Sounds cold. There’s more than enough room in your bed for both of us.”

Cass nibbled the corner of her lip, her eyebrows drawn together. “Not big enough for sex.”

“Every bed is big enough for sex, but see my previous statement. Too full to make a move. We can do facials instead.”

“Josh!”

“Honestly, Lucky Charms,” he tsked. “I don’t know where your mind is, but I’m assuming you have weird clay masks or some shit?”

Of course she did. She nodded.

“Movies. Face masks. Enough room between us for the Holy Spirit.”

“Promise?”

She wasn’t sure if she was asking him to assure her he wouldn’t try to sleep with her that night, or if she really could dollop her bright green kelp revitalizing concoction all over his perfect skin. She also wasn’t sure which promise she wanted him to break.

“If I don’t come over now, we’ll both wake up Christmas morning alone, and that would be sad,” he said, and his cheeks dimpled around his farcical pout.

He was goading her. She knew better. Every tease and innuendo tipping way over the line into territory he promised not to cross.

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