The call with Larry took less than twenty minutes. He’d said the claim should be wrapped up before Christmas, but we’d been dealing with this on and off for months already, so Davey and I weren’t convinced. I wanted to be hopeful that the suit would be dropped once and for all, but I wasn’t.

  “All right, well, now, what do we do?” Davey asked after ending the call, and I shrugged.

  “We wait.”

  “I didn’t mean with the lawsuit, bro. I meant with our day.” He sounded so excited, and I hated how fucking conflicted I felt inside.

  I needed to get it all out in the open once and for all. It wasn’t like Ivy and I’d been hiding a relationship from him for months or anything.

  Being with Ivy was a no-brainer, especially after last night. There was zero chance I’d be walking away from her without a fight, so why was telling her brother so damn difficult? I was a grown-ass man, but whenever I thought about coming clean, I reverted into that seventeen-year-old kid who had tried like hell to stand by his word—even if his fingers were crossed behind his back.

  That stupid fucking promise rang in my ears. Davey had been dead serious when he asked me to make it, and in one night, I’d blown the entire thing to bits. There was a high probability that he’d never forgive me, and I had no idea how we’d continue working together if that happened.

  Could I lose half my family and still live happily with the other?

  That was my dilemma.

  “What’s eating you? You have that look on your face,” Davey said, bringing me back to the present.

  “What look?” I asked, wondering what he’d say.

  “The look where you’re keeping something from me,” he pushed, and I swallowed around the lump in my throat.

  “No, I don’t.”

  “What’d you say you did last night?”

  That was twice now that he’d asked that particular question.

  “I told you already. Nothing.”

  He pushed back from his chair and stood up, and I instinctively did the same. Davey definitely knew more than he’d let on earlier.

  “The kind of nothing that involves your car being parked at my sister’s house all night?”

  I gasped, almost choking on the intake of air. I felt like I was suffocating.?”

  “The least you could do is be a fucking man and admit it to my face,” he growled, and we both stood tall, our shoulders back, our chests puffed out.

  “I was going to tell you,” I tried to say, but he put a hand up.

  He didn’t want to hear my bullshit excuses, and I wasn’t sure I blamed him, but it was all out in the open now.

  There was no going back from here. And honestly, I’d needed it there because I felt more in control than I had thirty seconds ago.

  “You promised.”

  “I was seventeen!” I shouted back because I was starting to get pissed off. This was fucking stupid.

  “You. Made. Me. A. Promise.” He enunciated each word as I watched his hand ball into a fist.

  I braced myself for the punch he was about to deliver. I’d give him just this one before I started hitting back.

  MONSTER PANTS

  IVY

  I walked into the salon an hour before my first client was set to arrive. There were things to prep and get ready for, but mostly, it was so that I could fill Cori in on my evening with Saint without any prying ears.

  “Here are the costumes,” I shouted into the void.

  I wasn’t sure if she’d run them out to her car or not, so I didn’t put them at her station, instead tossing them on top of the check-in counter. I dropped my purse into one of the drawers at my station and pocketed my phone. Hair stations were cramped enough already without adding anything extra to the space. Santa’s coat alone was a giant mass of material that stood about two feet tall, even when folded.

  Cori wandered around the corner from the supply closet in the back, a knowing grin on her face before she literally started squealing like we were back in the old high-school hallways. She ran up to me and gave me a hug.

  “Do you feel different?” she asked, her brown eyes inquisitive.

  “It’s not like the guy took my virginity.” Although he had done things that I’d never had done to me before.

  “I can’t believe this finally happened. We’ve been pining over him for years.”

  I definitely noticed the way she’d said we, and it made me smile.

  “I need to know every dirty detail.” She suggestively wagged her eyebrows at me. “And I do mean, every single one. The dirtier, the better.”

  The second she said those words, my mind flashed back to the shower. And the bedroom. And each delectable moment in between.

  “You’re ridiculous, but I love it.” I tried to play it all off, but I was a ball of conflicting emotions inside. “Did you turn on the computer and set up the credit card machine?” I asked even though I knew she hadn’t.

  “No,” she said.

  Cori never touched the electronic equipment, claiming that she was cursed when it came to everything, except her phone. I made my way back to the machine and flipped it into the on position, and I waited for it to slowly come to life. We really needed to update some of our machines.

  “You’re stalling. Why are you stalling?” She leaned her elbows on the counter and waited for me to start talking.

  “I don’t know.” I stood up tall and faced her, not knowing where to start.

  Last night had been incredible, but this morning had kind of sucked. And now, Saint was at the office with my brother, and I still hadn’t heard a single word from him. Trust me, I kept checking my phone like it might have turned itself off or something.

  “Was it bad?” The way her mouth twisted into a scowl had me rolling my eyes. “Oh, dear God, was he bad in bed?”

  “No,” I said with a slight laugh. “He was definitely not bad in bed.”

  “Thank you.” She looked up toward the ceiling like she was having a conversation with God himself. “How big was his wanker?”

  She held her hands in front of her face and moved them closer and farther apart before stopping on what would be considered small by any standards. I actually thought about not telling her, but she was my best friend, and I needed to tell someone about it.

  My eyes grew wide in order to emphasize what I was about to say. “It was unreal. Saint has a monster living between his legs.”

  Her face twisted into disbelief, like I had to be exaggerating. “You’ve been in love with him your whole life. Of course you’re going to think it’s big.”

  I started shaking my head vigorously. “I’m not … it’s huge. I don’t understand how he just walks around all day with that thing. It has to get in the way.”

  “So, you’re telling me that he’s got the biggest D you’ve ever seen and he’s great in the sack?”

  “Basically, yeah,” I said, realizing that both of those things were true and I was so done for.

  “And his kissing skills? Tell me he doesn’t slobber or force-feed you his tongue.” She stuck her tongue out and moved it around like a crazy person trying to lick the air.

  “He’s a grown man. He knows how to kiss,” I said with a laugh. “I think the slobber and tongue-stabbing only happened when we were younger.”

  She made a sick sound of gagging mixed with her breath getting stuck in her throat. “You would think that”—she pointed at me with one finger—“but you’d be wrong. It can happen at any age.”

  “Learn something new every day.”

  “Gotta admit, Ivy, I was going to be pretty disappointed if all of this had been for nothing.”

  “It still might have been,” I breathed out my internal thought before I could stop it from coming out of my mouth.

  She put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side, taking her violet hair with her. I watched as it all moved in the same direction in one fluid motion, like a work of art. “What do you mean? Ivy, what happened?”

  I started shaking my head. “Last night was amazing. I mean, I couldn’t have dreamed up anything better. But this morning, he was weird.”

  “Weird how? Like he regretted it? Like you shouldn’t have done it?” she asked, her face determined and her lips scowling. “A little late for that, buddy. I’ll kill him.”

  I reached out and touched her shoulder. “I don’t think he regretted it—”

  “But …” she interrupted, like she always did.

  “But he did mention Davey and some promise that he’d made to my brother when they were seventeen. He seemed worried about that.”

  “Seventeen!” she shouted into the otherwise empty salon, and I stopped myself from covering my ears. “That was a hundred years ago. Who cares anymore? And promise? What promise?”

  “My brother made Saint promise he’d never touch me. Ever. Not even as adults.” When I said the words out loud, to someone other than myself, I realized how ridiculous they sounded.

  “First of all,”—Cori held up a single finger—“that’s stupid. Second”—another finger—“everything makes so much more sense now.”

  “Explain,” I demanded with just one word.

  “I always knew that Saint was into you, but I never understood why he didn’t make a move. Why he tried so hard to pretend like he wasn’t. And now, I get it.”

  “The promise,” I said as I tried to accept it.

  “Davey would have killed him back then,” she said matter-of-factly. “And I get it. Big brothers are crazy people when it comes to their little sisters. They’re irrational and insane.”

  “You can say that again.”

  The sounds of a car beeping and doors slamming shut diverted my attention outside. Both of our clients had arrived at the same time … albeit early. I hadn’t even prepped yet, but that was my own fault, not theirs.

  “Hey”—Cori reached into her pocket and pulled out the keys to the front door—“Saint’s a big boy. And if last night was even half as great as you’re making it out to be, he won’t be able to stay away from you for long. And he’ll lose Davey in the process if he has to.”

  She sounded so damn sure of her assessment of my situation. I was far more uncertain as I pulled my phone from my back pocket and checked it again. Still nothing. No texts, no missed calls, and no messages waiting in my DMs.

  “And don’t do that,” she added, pointing at my phone as she walked toward the door to let our guests inside.

  “Do what?”

  “Give him all the power,” she explained, and I put the phone back down. “By waiting for him to text you or call you, it mentally puts you in a position of weakness. You’re allowed to text him first. And you don’t need permission to do it. All waiting is going to do is make you feel bad. And make you obsess.”

  The door swung open, and our two clients waltzed inside, shaking the freshly fallen snow off of their jackets as we all said, “Hello,” and, “Good morning,” at the same time.

  Cori wandered back in my direction before whispering one final nugget of advice. “I know it sucks, waiting for the guy to reach out when all you want to do is talk to him and make sure you’re on the same page. Or at least heading in the same direction. We let them make the first move because we don’t want to come off as needy or clingy. But, Ivy, if a guy can’t handle a little communication after a night of insanely hot sex, then he doesn’t deserve you.”

  “Amen to that!” one of the women shouted.

  I was mortified that she’d overheard, but I knew better than to engage. Thankfully, it was Cori’s client and not mine, so I wouldn’t be subjected to her fifty questions during our session. My client was too busy, texting on her phone, to eavesdrop or even know what we were talking about.

  Must be nice, I thought to myself as bitterness tore through me. I was competing with my client, who was most likely sending a text to her kid or a friend, for Pete’s sake!

  If I was already behaving this irrationally after only a couple of hours, I was never going to survive. So, I grabbed my phone and sent Saint a text before I could talk myself out of it. Cori was right; I needed to take initiative and at least attempt some semblance of self-control.

  Did Davey kill you, or are you still alive?

  I held my breath and waited. He read it almost instantly, but there were no dancing dots or any indication that he planned on responding.

  And when almost three hours passed with not even a single word from him on any platform, I started thinking that he might be avoiding me.

  He was definitely ignoring me. It took two seconds to respond to a text message, and I’d learned that when a man wanted you, you knew how he felt.

  What the hell did it mean if Saint stopped talking to me?

  LOSING MY BEST FRIEND

  SAINT

  I stood there, bracing myself for the hit I’d convinced myself I deserved, but it never came. Like I’d said, I was going to give Davey the first punch before I started swinging back.

  “Do it already,” I shouted, definitely creating a scene for those who were, unfortunately, still in the office.

  “You want me to hit you?” he questioned loudly, his eyes blazing fire.

  “You get one,” I growled in response, letting him know that this wasn’t a game I’d be lying down and rolling over for.

  “Will it stop you from hooking up with my sister?”

  A twisted laugh tore from deep in my throat. “No.”

  “You sure about that?” he pushed, most likely working up the anger to deliver one hell of a hit.

  “Positive.”

  “You asked for it.” Davey took a single step in my direction, and I flexed my right hand in preparation before he bent over in half and started cracking up.

  My heartbeat was erratic, and I swore I could feel the blood pulsing through my veins just under the skin. I blinked a few times quickly to make sure I wasn’t seeing things, but Davey looked like he might keel over and die from laughing so hard.

  “I’m confused,” I said the words slowly, methodically. Maybe this was some sort of trick or trap. If I lowered my defenses, I’d be an easier target.

  Davey looked up at me, his body still bent over as it shook wildly. “You should have seen your face,” he tried to say, but it came out in broken syllables that I managed to understand.

  “What the hell is going on?” I pushed back on the heels of my feet and reached for a chair to brace my weight on.

  When he finally stopped his laughing fit, he stood upright and blew out some over-the-top breaths, followed by high-pitched wooo sounds.

  “Are you finished?” I asked, still not quite believing that this wasn’t some sort of prank that might backfire on me at any moment.

  “Oh man,” Davey breathed out. “Your face. Shit. You were really going to hit me, weren’t you?”

  “I still might,” I said, and he started laughing again.

  If he didn’t stop, we’d be here all day like this.

  He put both hands in the air. “Okay, okay. I’m done … I think.”

  Right when he’d finally calmed himself down, his fiancée, Samantha, waltzed into the office, her brown hair in a bun that matched the kind Davey sported. How had I never noticed that before? They had matching fucking hairstyles. I wondered if Ivy had done it just to mess with them, and I stopped myself from grabbing my phone and sending her a text to ask.

  “Did I miss it? Darn, I missed it, didn’t I?” Samantha asked as she sat down in one of the seats in Davey’s office, clearly out of breath, and I shot her a look, to which she answered, “What? I ran here. I hate running.”

  I continued to glare at her with a confused expression. “Why did you run here?” I asked, wondering what she knew that I obviously didn’t that was so important that she’d chosen to run here in order to not miss it.

  Davey walked over to his fiancée and bent down to give her a sweet kiss on the mouth before heading toward his own chair and sitting down in it. “Babe, you only missed the part where he thought I was going to hit him and he was gearing up to hit me back,” he said with a slight giggle.

  “I still don’t understand why that’s so funny,” I complained as my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out, saw a text from Ivy, read it, and considered responding, but I put it away just as quickly. I’d fill her in on everything later.

  “Because, idiot, I’m not going to hit you for liking my sister,” he explained, like that was common knowledge and anyone with half a brain could have figured that part out.

  “You’re joking, right?”

  “Why would I be joking?” Davey sounded so convinced of his sanity, like I was the crazy one for even thinking he’d be mad at me. I felt like I was in some kind of alternate universe, where everything was backward and nothing made sense.

  “Because you bring up that stupid promise I made all the time!” I threw my hand in the air and started pacing.

  “I only did that because I was trying to get you to finally come clean. I figured if I kept bringing it up, you’d eventually tell me to fuck off.”

  I stopped moving. “What are you talking about?”

  Samantha cleared her throat, forcing our attention toward her. “We know you like her, Saint.”

  “Of course I like her,” I said as I exhaled.

  “You made that painfully obvious when you tried to sabotage our business before it even got off the ground,” Davey said with a cocky smirk, and I felt my shoulders tense.

  I hadn’t meant to cause us any problems, but I had done exactly that.

  Ivy had started dating this guy, Ian, and for whatever reason, I thought she might be getting serious with him. The kind of serious that might include a ring and children at some point. My brain short-circuited whenever I even thought about her with someone who wasn’t me.

  So, I created a fake profile for Ian on our app even though he wasn’t financially qualified to be on it, and I made sure he matched with at least twenty women. I had known his phone number, so I signed him up for text messages since the app wasn’t on his phone, but the second the messages started being delivered, it had taken him less than ten minutes to download our app and start chatting with his matches.

 

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