“We better get home,” he said, finally, his eyes not letting mine go.
I nodded, nervous and scared but still shaking with lust. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
He turned away and put the car in drive, then pulled back onto the road. I sat back straight in my chair, fixing my skirt, trying not to think too directly about anything, trying not to think how wet the leather seat underneath of me was going to be when I got up.
When we got home we went to our separate rooms without a word.
I didn’t bother to get out of my dress before crawling into my bed. I was so exhausted, but it still took hours to fall asleep.
Chapter 7
When I woke up in the morning, I was sure I had dreamed the whole thing. There was no way James could have kissed me. None.
But he had.
I touched my lips. They felt puffy and sore from James’s hard kisses, but under my fingers they seemed normal enough. Normal but changed. It seemed impossible for me to get out of my bed, to dress and go downstairs. Life as a normal girl was impossible for me now. He was my stepbrother.
I pulled my sheets up over my head, not wanting to face the day or the black twisted thoughts that were clouding the air and choking me. Waves of contradicting emotions ran over me—the intoxicating joy of knowing he wanted me, if only for a minute in his car last night. The gut-tearing nausea of knowing I could never have him, that it was impossible, that it was wrong.
I rolled over, smothering my face in my pillow until I drifted back asleep.
When I finally did manage to get myself out of bed, I avoided James. He must have had the same idea. He skipped out on the family Christmas Eve dinner, claiming he had work to do, but I didn't care. I wasn't sure I could sit at the same table as him and our parents and not turn bright red and give everything away. I had this terrible idea that my father would look at me and just know. It was ridiculous, but it didn't keep me from hiding out in my room.
Christmas morning came with more excitement than I was used to. Years ago, it was all about the gifts and Santa, but this year, it was all about James. The idea that I would have to spend the morning with him, opening gifts and eating breakfast, was a rush parallel to anything I had felt as a child.
I had gotten him a gift, of course, but it had been before everything at the restaurant. I had spent much of Christmas Eve debating whether or not I should go get him something more, or if I should just give him the stupid college sweatshirt I had picked out. It felt so impersonal now.
I wanted to give him something more, something that indicated how I felt, but since I didn't even know how I felt, I had no ideas. I thought of adding a note, but nothing sounded right. Besides, he had already pulled that one with his infamous “IOU” gift. I didn't have the time or the materials to make him something from scratch.
So I just left my carefully wrapped sweatshirt gift under the tree without adding anything to it. It felt wrong, but I didn't really have any other option.
Dad and Nancy were already sitting in front of the tree drinking coffee when I went downstairs Christmas morning. They were cuddled up on the couch, watching the lights on the Christmas tree blink and twinkle.
“Good morning, sleepy-head,” Dad greeted me warmly as I approached. “We were just about to send James up to go look for you. We opened our presents to each other, but we were waiting for you to do yours.”
My eyes darted over to where James was sitting in the recliner. He was wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt, but still managed to have a sophisticated air about him. A surge of heat went through me at the idea of him coming into my bedroom, to my bed, and waking me with a kiss. A kiss like the one from a day ago. I felt my cheeks flame and looked away.
“Here,” I said, picking up the purple wrapped package and handing it to James. Better to get the hard part over with first. “Merry Christmas.”
“Thanks.” James smiled and held out his hand for the package. Our fingers grazed one another and I retreated like I had been burned. He on the other hand, was cool as a cucumber and proceeded to neatly tear the paper in two. He held the sweatshirt up to his chest. “You know I can't wear this around the office, right?”
I flushed. Way to put me down. “Yeah, but I didn't know what else to get you. I mean, what do you get a billionaire?”
James' eyes met mine and desire flashed through them. A kiss. That's what you get a billionaire.
“Well, I think it's sweet,” Nancy interrupted. “Did you remember to get Allie a present this year, James?”
Her tone was teasing and light, but it still hit me. I thought of the IOU gift. If he did that again this year, I'd be pissed.
“Of course I remembered,” James replied, pulling out two small boxes. “I have a secretary now to help me keep track of those kind of things.”
Dad and Nancy laughed. I did my best to smile, but I felt more like stomping off back to my room to pout. I opened the smaller box first. Inside was a t-shirt with his company logo. Nice. I held it up. At least it was the right size.
“Thank you so much,” I gushed, putting as much sarcasm in my voice as I could without alerting Nancy and Dad. “How terribly thoughtful of you.”
“Open the other one.” James rolled his eyes. To be fair, I had given him a sweatshirt.
The box was smaller. I peeled the wrapping off and stared at it. It was a tiny can of something with a light and whistle attached. “Um, thanks?”