Page 24 of The Sleight Before Christmas

“You’re twenty,” she delivers, “that doesn’t earn you a lick of seniority.”

I grin. “Who told you?”

“You just did. But you could pass for older.”

“Why’s that?” I ask as she continually offers the joint between our exchanges, and I wave each offer away.

“Your maturity,” she delivers without hesitation. “Something tells me you don’t get off on things the way other guys do.”

“Maybe you’re wrong.”

“I don’t think so, Thatcher,” she drawls out, guessing my true name. Which I hate.

“Easy guess,” I deadpan.

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I don’t know how to have a good time,” she says, touching her finger to her tongue to rid it of some loose bud, “but Whitney’s given them far more shit. I think she’ll be the one doing keg stands in her future. If she hasn’t already.”

“Yeah,” I chuckle, “I can see that. I like her.”

“She’s seventeen,” she grumbles, pinching the rest of her joint between her fingers.

“I’m aware, and she’s a cool kid. We get on well. I get on with Brenden, too.”

“It’s weird you know my family so well. Weird we haven’t crossed paths until tonight either, with you being here so often.”

“I think you know why I was here tonight.”

“Did you know?” she asks, seeming bothered by the idea.

“No, or I would have passed, and they know it.”

“Should I palm your face hard in offense?” She snaps. “Or is this your idea of fucking charm?”

“Oof, I meant no offense,” I can’t help but grin at her nasty little bite, “but I’m not in the habit of getting set up by a girl’s parents.”

“Wonder why they think you’re a good fit for me anyway.”

I stalk toward her, and she steps back, a smile quirking her lips as I back her against the wall of the shed. “You have some fucking mouth on you,” I quip as she stares up at me, her eyes screaming for me to close the inches between us.

“You have no idea. But please don’t go thinking I’ll get docile and agreeable when a boy compliments my lips. Or anything else.”

“I’m thinking I already know that about you.”

“We seem to be thinking a lot about each other,” she drawls.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Serena. I’m also thinking you’re ninety-nine percent pain in the ass, one percent sunshine.”

“Not nice, I’m at least two percent sunshine.”

I palm the wall next to her head and bend so we’re as close as we were earlier. This time, she reaches up, palming the back of my neck and leaving it there. Her lips glistening as she stares up at me expectantly.

“You gloss those lips up for me?”

“I didn’t wear it for you before I got home, so there’s your answer.”

“Liar,” I call in bullshit, glancing back toward the window, trying hard not to close my eyes as she runs her nails slightly but seductively along the back of my neck. Fuck, she’s bold, and I’m already hard just thinking about parting those ridiculous lips with my tongue. Turning back to her, I gauge the curiosity in her eyes. “Set up or not, I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t appreciate this situation.”

“Whatever,” she sighs on exhale, pulling her hand from my neck. “Seriously, Thatch, you’re that freaked out?”

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