Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 21027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
“You’re not my brother, Jack-ass.” She pokes at my chest and then makes a noise. “Your chest hurt my finger. I should write you a ticket for that.”
“For what, being too hard?” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I wish I could take them back.
Tinsel snorts and then somehow catches her ridiculously tall heels on nothing and starts to fall over. I reach out and grab her around the waist before she can faceplant, and then growl in frustration. Why do her curves have to be so fucking soft?
“Nice catch, Jack-ass,” Frostie says and then clears her throat. “I mean Jack. Sorry, she’s rubbing off on me.”
“I can see she’s a terrible influence.” For some reason I’m still holding on to her hips, but it’s a good thing because she begins to sway again.
“You’re the worst, you know that?” Tinsel is beginning to slur as she points her finger so close to my face she flicks my nose. “You with your perfect hair and body.” Then she flicks my hair too. “Just Mr. Perfect, that’s what you are, Jacky.”
“You’re drunk,” I say, and she shrugs.
“Might be, but that’s none of your business.” She turns to Frostie and holds up her hand for a high five. “Sick burn, right?”
“Totally.” She slaps her hand, and then the two of them nearly fall over.
“Okay, I think that’s enough for tonight.” I look around for North as I hear the two of them start to protest. He’s the one that dragged me out and now he’s nowhere to be seen.
“You two have fun,” Frostie says as she grabs her coat. “I promised my cousin I’d make her fresh cinnamon rolls for her gender reveal party tomorrow. I’m staying with her tonight, and she’s my designated driver.”
She waves to someone at the door, and I see Carol standing there with her round belly all bundled up. Frostie waves goodbye to Tinsel one last time, and there’s still no sign of North.
“Shit,” I say under my breath, and I grab Tinsel’s coat off the chair behind her and try to wrap her up. She doesn't need to show off this many curves—in public anyway.
“What are you doing? I’m not ready to go!” she shouts over the music. “I’ve got seven more songs to sing.”
“Not tonight.” Grabbing her around the waist, I practically carry her out of the bar with her complaining the whole time.
“You ruin everything,” she says and elbows me hard in the side. “I’m the only person in this whole damn town you can’t stand.”
“That’s not true,” I try to defend. “Gary at the post office is a dick.”
“That’s because you didn’t get him a gift last year for Christmas.” She scoffs. “He’s the only mail carrier we have, and you didn’t tip!”
“Of course I did, I…” I stop talking because I’m trying to think if I really did or not.
“See?” Her heels wobble again, and she starts to fall. “Shit.”
I grab a hold of her just in time, but in the process I slip in some of the wet snow. My arms go around Tinsel, and I press her against the brick wall of the alley between Jingle Bar and the barber shop. It’s dark in this little strip of space, but there’s enough light that I can see her looking up to me and just how close we are.
“Maybe if you stop yelling at me long enough, you’d see how much I like fighting with you.”
Her breath tickles my lips, and I smell the citrus of the lime and the tang of the shot she took. The moment stretches so thin that I can feel her heartbeat against mine as I lean closer. Can we have this stolen moment? Can we have just one kiss? The thought of doing this and losing her forever is too painful. She’s had too much to drink, and I know she’d regret it tomorrow. I won’t let this happen and drive a wedge between us.
“Come on, sweetheart,” I say as I lean back and tuck her loose curls behind her ear. “Let’s get you home.”
Chapter Five
TINSEL
A groan leaves me as I start to wake. I’m so happy I don’t have to work today because there’s no way I could go in. How many shots did I have? Could I still be drunk?
I rub my eyes, thinking that this is all Jack’s fault. He was the reason one shot turned into two and then three. Wait, I think there might have been another three after those. When will his existence stop bothering me?
“Frostie, I’m going to need food.”
“Your donut is on the nightstand.” My eyes fly open at the sound of Jack’s voice.
What. The. Hell.
He’s standing at the end of the bed, and it’s then I notice that the bed isn’t mine. I open and then close my mouth because I have no idea what the hell happened.