“We’re good. How’re you?” I ask her, taking the seat beside Jace. “I thought you weren’t here since you didn’t come down before.”
“Oh,” she says as she waves a hand through the air and takes a seat beside Thea, “I wanted to give you all time to do Christmas without me.”
“You didn’t need to do that,” I tell her. “We don’t mind.”
“It’s okay, really,” she assures me. “Now that I’m away from Malcolm I find that having time to myself is something I enjoy. It was hard to come by before.” She forces a smile.
All the drama that went on with Thea and Cade’s family a few months ago was something out of a soap opera. None of us really talk about it anymore, not wanting to stir up bad memories. I think we all are especially wary of Cade’s feelings on the matter. When everything blew up he kind of become the center of attention for his former football fame and the fact that even a big, muscled, football player can be the victim of physical and verbal abuse. He dealt with a lot of people calling him a pussy for never fighting back, but what they don’t realize is that when someone starts beating you down as a child, by the time you’re an adult you still feel powerless.
“This looks delicious,” Jace says, changing the subject.
He’s right, the meal looks amazing. They made grilled chicken in some sort of marinade with a rice and vegetable mix.
“It smells good too,” I add with a smile.
As we eat we talk about school, and work, and life.
It’s nice to catch up with all of them.
When we finish with dinner, Jace and I insist on doing the dishes.
“Stay on your side.” I bump his hip with mine.
“Stay on your side.” He bumps me back, the water sloshing in the sink.
“You’re the one that’s crowding me,” I defend.
He snorts. “Are you kidding me? You’re always trying to get closer to me.”
“Am not,” I argue, fighting laughter.
“Face it, you can’t resist my body.”
I gasp. “I so can.”
He grins devilishly and lowers his voice so the others in the next room have no chance of hearing him. “You couldn’t go one day without my cock.”
“Jace!” I shriek and splash him with water.
He looks down at his soaking wet shirt and then at me. “Did you just splash me?”
I swallow thickly at the dangerous glint in his eye. “No,” I squeak.
“Liar.” He grabs a handful of the suds on top and throws them at me.
I scream and jump back, batting at the bubbles in my hair like they’re a fluffy monster.
He laughs at my reaction.
“Oh, you think this is funny?”
“Fucking hysterical.”
I grab a handful of bubbles and launch them at the side of his face. Now it’s my turn to laugh because he looks like a lopsided Santa Claus.
“Oh, that does it.” He scoops two handfuls of bubbles and water and goes to throw it at me.
I scream and take off running but feel it pelt me in the back.