Page 4 of Mistle-Ho

The seconds tick by and I start to think I missed the mark. That maybe I don’t know the woman in front of me any better than her brother does.

So I start explaining.

“Last Christmas, I noticed the scarf you always wear was starting to look a little rough. I saw this one when I was out shopping and it looked just like it, so I thought maybe…”

My words slow as she frowns down at the soft cashmere knit. I don’t know what else to say, so I accidentally fall back on what usually works best for me. “It was either that or lingerie.”

Al’s eyes snap to mine. “Stop it.”

The venom in her tone almost sends me back a step. “Stop, what?”

“You know,what,” she snarls at me, looking way more dangerous than any man I’ve faced down on the field. “It’s not fucking funny when you pretend to flirt with me.”

I’m surprised at her reaction and it throws me off even more. Making me confess something I know better than to admit. “I’m not pretending.”

She stares at me for a second, the silence stretching out between us. Then she starts to laugh. But not in an amused way. This laugh is a little unhinged, and I’m starting to fear for my life.

Funny thing is, the idea of Alexis having at me isn’t nearly as unappealing as it should be.

“Right.” She squares her shoulders and steps close enough we’d be nose-to-nose if she wasn’t so short. “All the bullshit you say to me is completely serious.” The words drip with sarcasm.

I manage to keep my dumbass mouth shut like I should have earlier, which she takes as an admission of guilt.

Al snorts. “That’s what I thought.” After slamming the scarf box onto the railing, she starts to storm away. “Stay the fuck away from me, Gavin.”

Something about her snapped request makes me react, and before I know what I’m doing, my hand is holding her arm, stopping her escape. “I’m not pretending, Al.”

Warning lights and sirens are going off in my head, but I ignore them the way I’ve never been able to ignore the woman now shooting daggers from her eyes.

Alexis pulls her arm free, but instead of continuing her earlier path, she comes back toward me, bringing the lush curves I know are hiding under that dress right against me. “Yeah? Prove it.”

She thinks she’s calling my bluff. Expects me to back down and admit my guilt.

I should. Acting on how fucking appealing I find every inch of her won’t end well for me. But, yet again, I find myself saying something I shouldn’t.

“Fine. Treehouse. Fifteen minutes.”

3

That Was Fast

Alexis

“FINE. TREEHOUSE. Fifteen minutes.”

My jaw drops and words fail me. Gavin takes full advantage, using that time to stalk back into the house, leaving me alone on the deck with nothing but an odd flipping in my belly to keep me company.

For just a second, my punch-punched brain skips its way into a place I haven’t allowed it to go in years. Things have definitely changed since I was there last. I’m older. Wiser. Somewhat more experienced.

As a teenager, I imagined kissing him. Cuddling with him. We might have even made it to fictional first base. Now I’m rounding those things like a home run champion, flashes of scandalous scenarios my youthful brain never would have concocted pulling my nipples tight and making my clit beat like a tiny tambourine.

The problem is, it’s all bullshit. Gavin isn’t really interested in me. Never has been. Never will be.

And I’m not interested in him. Not really. I have zero desire to be with someone as outgoing and social as my parents. Spending my adult life suffering through frequent get-togethers and nights out sounds like a complete nightmare.

Plus the man is famous. Everywhere Gavin goes, people fawn all over him, taking photos and wanting autographs.

No fucking thank you.

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