Page 2 of Christmas Cheer

“You were about to smash face right into the floor, Hughes!”

Her crisp green eyes maintain contact with mine as she pops the cap up on her water bottle and bites into the silicone straw. I swear she sucks that water down like she knows I’m wondering if she’d handle my cock the same way. I’m not a fan of teethy blow jobs, but fuck, Keira could absolutely gnaw on me, and I bet it’d be paradise.

“I was in control,” she says when she finishes drinking and snaps the bottle shut.

I’m intimidating her, I know this. I’ve got an entire foot on her, and I’m using it to my advantage to loom over her. “In what world was that control?” I yell. “What are you doing here by yourself?”

She doesn’t miss a beat, just fires right back with, “What are you doing here by your—hey!”

I snatch her water bottle from her, unscrew the lid, and guzzle the rest of it down.

She gapes at me for two seconds before crinkling her nose. “Jesus, Allore, you reek.”

“I was running. You know, shit you can dowithouta spotter.”

“Unless you’re already halfway through a bottle of tequila.”

Well, shit. She’s got me there. But I’m feeling pretty fucking sober right now, and if she’s going to be rude, so am I. “Are you sure that’s me you’re smelling? Maybe it’s you.” I lift my arms and sniff my armpits. Which, yeah, I absolutely reek, but I use the opportunity to flex before I lower them.

And get right in her personal space to sniff her neck.

She shoves me away before I get as much of her scent as I want, but she smells delicious. It’s been a long time since I’ve been this close to her, probably the summer after junior year of high school. My brother was home from college, hosting a pool party at our place. I was shit-faced and accused Keira of playing hard to get.

I grabbed her ass, she pushed me in the pool. It was a whole thing.

She rolls her eyes now. “Oh my god, I’ve been practicing for the last hour. I’m just sweaty.”

“You smell good when you sweat.”

Which has her shoving me again, but she’s not strong enough to make me budge. Don’t get me wrong; the girl’s strong. The shit she does on the sidelines with the other cheerleaders is fucking wild. But I’m a wrecking ball.

That’s Sports Illustrated’s words, not mine. They even put me in white briefs and a tank top to do a photo shoot reenacting the Miley Cyrus video.

“You are so gross,” she snaps. “I can’t wait until you’re out of my life forever.”

“I can’t wait until you sit on my dick.”

Her jaw drops. “I can’t believe you just said that. You’re drunk, Evan. You need to go home.”

I won’t argue that I need to go home, but I’m not going to leave her here alone. “Let’s go then.”

She strolls away from me, I swear deliberately swaying that ass of hers to hypnotize me as she rubs her hands on a brick of gym chalk like she thinks she’s getting back on that equipment. “I’m not going home with you.”

“I didn’t say that.” Although it would be ideal. “I’m going to walk you home.”

“Save me from male chivalry. I’m fine. I’m a block away, and I’ve got my freshman year rape whistle right on my key chain.”

“Will you just pack your shit up so we can get out of here?” I eye up those bars she was swinging on. The rest of the equipment as well. There are mats everywhere, even a foam pit, but if anything, that tells me how dangerous this place is. “Are you really supposed to be using this equipment without anyone spotting? That looked dangerous what you were doing. You could have broken a bone if you landed wrong. Why are you even doing that? We adding parkour to the cheer routine?”

She scrubs her face, no doubt in irritation, but it leaves powder all over her cheeks and forehead, which is adorable. She’s adorable. She’s just hated me since our freshman year of high school.

But those eight years of Keira experience has also proved that if I push enough, I’ll wear her down for at least some things.

She glares at me for another five seconds before caving. “Fine, I’ll wrap it up. But I don’t need you to walk me home.”

“You do.”

“I’ll call for a ride.”