Page 380 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

We’renotkids anymore. I stopped thinking that about myself years ago…and I get the feeling so did she. I don’t know much—fuck, anything—about her except the few snippets Dad has chosen to share. I know the Sloanes are broke. I have no idea how Dad met Diana, but since they never talk about it, I can only guess Harper’s mother was a stripper or a prostitute. A high-paid one, if she could afford implants and Botox, but an escort is just a pretty whore with good business sense.

I hood my eyes, draw a deep, slow breath, and let my hand slide onto my thigh as I sit back on the barstool.

It’s been ages since I’ve had more than a few sips of cognac, or some wine at dinner. But I’d be an idiot to turn down a chance to learn more about my stepsister. Especially if she’s already loosened up. Maybe I can find out just how much of a gold digger her mother is.

“Fine,” I say.

She glances at the row of bottles behind the bar. “Pick your poison.”

“You shouldn’t be mixing.”

“You shouldn’t be telling me what to do,” she answers whip-quick.

I sigh and move around the side of the bar. I grab a bottle of tequila and open the fridge to get a lemon, but she stops me.

“None of that shit. Just pour.”

I slide a full shot glass over to her. We toss them back, me with a grimace and Harper with a cough and a shudder. She shimmies her shoulders and lifts her eyebrows expectantly. “You starting, or am I?”

“Ladies first.”

Harper purses her lips. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

Her question comes out so fast, she must have had it ready. “How did your mom die?”

The room darkens, and it’s got nothing to do with the clouds building on the horizon. “Dare,” I growl.

“Uh-uh.” Harper tuts me with a finger. “No takesies backsies.”

“Dare.” My voice drops low. “Or nothing.”

She brushes off my irritation with a shrug and looks about the room again. “Fine, cheater.” She starts tapping her lip. Then she spins around and points out through the glass sliding doors. “Dive in.” The corners of her mouth lift up. “Naked.”

I bark out a laugh. “Not a fucking chance.”

“Why not?” She blinks innocently at me, taking another tiny sip of her drink. “Our parents won’t be home for at least an hour.” She leans over the bar, peeking at the mound in my jeans. “Too embarrassed for me to see your little wiener?”

I growl as I stare out the window. “Choose something else,” I say.

“I’m penalizing you if you don’t do it.”

“What’s the penalty?”

She points at the bottle of tequila.

“Fine.” I pour myself a shot and down it. “Truth or dare?” I ask, my voice rough from the alcohol burning its way down to my stomach.

“Dare,” she says with a lopsided smile.

I tug at the collar of her T-shirt. “Dive in the pool. Naked.”

“You can’t steal my dare.”

“Too late to change the rules.”

“Thosearethe rules, I didn’t just—” She cuts off with a strangled sound and pulls her shirt over her head, baring a black lace bra.

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