gaze went to Jenna, bent over to pull the bottle of sparkling wine out of the fridge. Yeah, I’d keep an eye on those buns.
I gave my head a hard shake. “Let me open that.” I moved towardher.
She handed over the bottle and reached for the OJ. “Thanks.”
I worked the cork out of the bottle with a pop. “You okay, peanut butter?”
The corners of her mouth lifted. “Yeah. I’m good.”
“Did you love that ass—” I coughed. “Guy?”
She tilted her head and gave me a narrow-eyed look. “Didn’t you like Jon?”
I ran my tongue over my top teeth and lowered my gaze to the bottle in my hands.“Uh…well, I, ah, didn’t get to know him real well.”
“You don’t like him.”
“It’s not that I hate him or anything. He seems a likeable enough guy.” I paused. “Maybe not good enough for you, that’s all.”
Her eyes widened briefly. “Oh.”
Our eyes met. Heat built between us as we eyed each other.
I thrust the bottle of wine at her. “Here. I don’t know how to make these.”
She poured orange juiceinto two glasses, spilling a little on the counter as she did so. With a noise of frustration she grabbed a cloth and wiped it up. Then she topped off the juice with fizzy wine and handed me one. I sipped and nodded. “It’s good.”
Jenna sniffed and bolted to the toaster oven. She yanked open the door. “I think these are burning.” She shoved her hand into an oven mitt and slid out the cinnamonbuns.
I peered over her shoulder. “Not burnt, but definitely well done.”
Jenna laughed. “I’ll eat these.” She popped more buns into the small oven. “This time I’ll watch them. Where the hell did Mom go, anyway?”
“No idea.” I picked up a knife and sliced a couple more pastries for toasting. Soon they were all done.
“There’s the butter.” Jenna nodded at the counter. “I’ll call the others.”
We ate, drank, and laughed a lot. Jenna looked less sad, sitting on the couch cross-legged, still wearing her pajamas and the Santa hat. Then she and her mom disappeared into the kitchen to start preparing the big dinner.
I needed exercise, so after changing into Under Armour running leggings and cross-trainers, and bundling up with a knit cap and gloves, I headed out for a run. The day was clearand crisp, the cold air sharp in my lungs as I breathed it in. It felt good to move, and my head cleared.
I thought about Jenna and Jon, and him leaving. She’d been sad, but I was pretty sure she wasn’t brokenhearted. I didn’t want her to hurt.
Christ. I didn’t want her hurt, but I’d hurt her myself…five years ago.
Five years ago, when I’d lost my fucking mind.
—
When I walked in on Jennacrying over her homework that night in her dorm room, even though she was so damn smart, I was all concerned and protective. I helped her with her homework, lying next to her on her bed even though I knew it was a bad idea.
I’d been attracted to Jenna for years but knew I could never act on it. It was more than attraction, if I was being honest. When I first met her, she was Connor’s youngersister, a cute little kid. Then when I was about fifteen, I noticed she was…growing up. I’d run into her at the local rink, when I was just finishing a hockey practice and she was going on the ice for a figure-skating lesson. I noticed how the Lycra clothes she wore showed off her shape, which was becoming hot as hell—lithe, firm, and decidedly feminine.
I told myself the affection I felt forher was what I’d feel for a sister. She’d been a kid when I’d first met her, and I’d felt sorry for her when her brothers tormented her. But then she got older and the affection was joined by lust. I’d watch her sexy little ass and sweet breasts. I had hot dreams about having her naked in my arms, in my bed. I made myself forget about her. I forced myself to go out with other girls to forget her.It never really worked.
Then I moved in with her. When I was sixteen and hormones were
I gave my head a hard shake. “Let me open that.” I moved towardher.
She handed over the bottle and reached for the OJ. “Thanks.”
I worked the cork out of the bottle with a pop. “You okay, peanut butter?”
The corners of her mouth lifted. “Yeah. I’m good.”
“Did you love that ass—” I coughed. “Guy?”
She tilted her head and gave me a narrow-eyed look. “Didn’t you like Jon?”
I ran my tongue over my top teeth and lowered my gaze to the bottle in my hands.“Uh…well, I, ah, didn’t get to know him real well.”
“You don’t like him.”
“It’s not that I hate him or anything. He seems a likeable enough guy.” I paused. “Maybe not good enough for you, that’s all.”
Her eyes widened briefly. “Oh.”
Our eyes met. Heat built between us as we eyed each other.
I thrust the bottle of wine at her. “Here. I don’t know how to make these.”
She poured orange juiceinto two glasses, spilling a little on the counter as she did so. With a noise of frustration she grabbed a cloth and wiped it up. Then she topped off the juice with fizzy wine and handed me one. I sipped and nodded. “It’s good.”
Jenna sniffed and bolted to the toaster oven. She yanked open the door. “I think these are burning.” She shoved her hand into an oven mitt and slid out the cinnamonbuns.
I peered over her shoulder. “Not burnt, but definitely well done.”
Jenna laughed. “I’ll eat these.” She popped more buns into the small oven. “This time I’ll watch them. Where the hell did Mom go, anyway?”
“No idea.” I picked up a knife and sliced a couple more pastries for toasting. Soon they were all done.
“There’s the butter.” Jenna nodded at the counter. “I’ll call the others.”
We ate, drank, and laughed a lot. Jenna looked less sad, sitting on the couch cross-legged, still wearing her pajamas and the Santa hat. Then she and her mom disappeared into the kitchen to start preparing the big dinner.
I needed exercise, so after changing into Under Armour running leggings and cross-trainers, and bundling up with a knit cap and gloves, I headed out for a run. The day was clearand crisp, the cold air sharp in my lungs as I breathed it in. It felt good to move, and my head cleared.
I thought about Jenna and Jon, and him leaving. She’d been sad, but I was pretty sure she wasn’t brokenhearted. I didn’t want her to hurt.
Christ. I didn’t want her hurt, but I’d hurt her myself…five years ago.
Five years ago, when I’d lost my fucking mind.
—
When I walked in on Jennacrying over her homework that night in her dorm room, even though she was so damn smart, I was all concerned and protective. I helped her with her homework, lying next to her on her bed even though I knew it was a bad idea.
I’d been attracted to Jenna for years but knew I could never act on it. It was more than attraction, if I was being honest. When I first met her, she was Connor’s youngersister, a cute little kid. Then when I was about fifteen, I noticed she was…growing up. I’d run into her at the local rink, when I was just finishing a hockey practice and she was going on the ice for a figure-skating lesson. I noticed how the Lycra clothes she wore showed off her shape, which was becoming hot as hell—lithe, firm, and decidedly feminine.
I told myself the affection I felt forher was what I’d feel for a sister. She’d been a kid when I’d first met her, and I’d felt sorry for her when her brothers tormented her. But then she got older and the affection was joined by lust. I’d watch her sexy little ass and sweet breasts. I had hot dreams about having her naked in my arms, in my bed. I made myself forget about her. I forced myself to go out with other girls to forget her.It never really worked.
Then I moved in with her. When I was sixteen and hormones were
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