Page 30 of Fake It 'Til You Sleigh It

I grunt with effort as I tug, but the damn thing won’t budge. It feels as though it’s been superglued on.

“For love of… Santa’s saggy ball sack,” she gasps out, her breathing growing more and more ragged. “G-G-Get m-m-me out of this s-s-straightjacket!”

Oh crap.She’s having a panic attack. Her breaths are quick and shallow, which sends my heart racing.I gotta do something drastic. Fast!

I grab a pair of scissors from the drawer. “Don’t move,” I order.

“Ethan, what are you doing? S-S-Stop,” she says, wheezing, “and t-t-tell me wh-what you’re—”

“Stay calm, I’m cutting through the fabric,” I say softly but firmly. “Trust me.”

I quickly cut through the back of the shirt, ripping it off and tossing it to the floor.

Chase breathes in large gulps of air—finally freed.

Only then do I realize she’s not wearing a bra.

Her breasts are fully exposed(oh holy night), and they are spectacular.

The universe just gave me VIP access to the most incredible show on the planet. These aren’t ordinary breasts—they surpass the ones in my dreams: firmer, fuller, and begging to be worshiped.

“You cut my bra?!”

Before I can respond(or stop gawking), the other bathroom door swings open. On instinct, I clasp my hands over Chase’s breasts. Did I want to cop a feel? Yes, but I’ll claim chivalry to my death.

Nolan, my brother, stands in the doorway to his bedroom. He looks at me and a half-naked Chase with my "hands bra" still in place. His expression is so neutral, he could be a sculpture dedicated to the art of indifference.

“Hey, bro,” I say, trying to sound casual. “Chase, this is my twin brother, Nolan. Nolan, this is Chase. She’s, uh, trying on her Christmas outfit.”

Nolan’s eyes flick between us, his expression unchanging. “Mom says it’s time for dinner,” he announces flatly. “I’ll tell her you’re having dessert first.”

Without so much as a backward glance, he shuts the door.

Awkward silence.

The warmth in my hands begs me to squeeze, to lose myself in the softness of her skin. Her breasts rise and fall with each breath, and I can feel her heart pounding under my palms—a frantic rhythm that echoes my own racing pulse. Every breath she takes makes it harder and harder to resist.

Chase’s voice snaps me out of it. “Take your hands off my chest.”

I can’t resist one last jab. “Warning. I’m going to be removing my strong, capable hands from your fabulous breasts now. Just giving you advance notice, like you wanted. Wouldn’t want to deprive you of my touch too suddenly—”

She shoves me hard enough to make me stumble. “Get out!”

“Next time I save your life, I don’t need a boob grab as payment,” I retort. “A simple thank-you will do.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Chase

I wake up andI'm totally confused. I feel like I just got tased. As my eyes adjust to the dim light filtering through the curtains, I become aware of two things:

1. I’m sprawled across Ethan’s chest like it’s my own personal Tempur-Pedic mattress.

2. The Great Wall of Pillows I constructed between us last night? Demolished. Obliterated. Bye-bye.

Fantastic. Just fucking dandy.

I lift my head, ready to ninja-roll myself out of this awkward situation, when my gaze lands on something that makes me freeze. Squidward’s giant schnoz is staring at me in… 3D.Oh shit!It’s not his nose. There, proudly tenting the SpongeBob sheets, is Ethan’s morning wood.

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