Page 3 of The Naughty List
She shrugs and manages to not grimace as she downs half the bottle. It’s quiet for a moment like she doesn’t know what to say. The minute I met Audrey this morning, I knew she’d be my best bet at having anyone decent to talk to this weekend, which isn’t often something I think about nineteen-year-old girls.
She has long cherry-red hair, artificially dyed with bangs and in dire need of a brush. She’s not wearing a lot of makeup except for red lipstick and black liner. Everything about Audrey says that she doesn’t fit in molds. She’s a little bit feminine, a little bit wild, and seems to create a style all her own. The icing on the cake is the constant expression on her face like she’s thinking horrendous things about every person she’s around but won’t come out and say any of them. I wish she would.
“Can I tell you something awful?” I ask. “There’s a good chance you won’t want to be anywhere near me once I tell you.”
Instead of looking horrified, her eyes actually light up.
“Tell me.”
I lean in, our faces only inches apart. “I fucking hate Christmas.”
“Oh, thank God!” she says, leaning back. Then she holds up her bottle toward me, and I tap my beer against hers.
“You hate it too?”
“Yes! It’s so commercial and pretentious!”
“I don’t like anyone telling me that I’m supposed to be all joyful and merry,” I reply.
“Exactly!” she says with a laugh. “Maybe the Grinch was onto something.”
“We don’t give him enough credit.”
She laughs and finishes her beer. “So if you hate Christmas so much then why are you here? Why not spend the weekend on a beach in Florida?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, really. A glutton for punishment, I guess.”
Then after a moment of silence, I add, “Actually, I just got divorced over the summer, and I didn’t really want to spend it alone. It just felt too fucking sad—divorced loser alone at Christmas.”
“Yes, because drinking with a teenager at a bar definitely doesn’t make you a loser.”
A laugh bubbles up from my chest as I stand to get us another round. “Maybe you’re right, but being here with you, so far, is better than some shitty beach in Florida.”
Then, I turn and walk away. I manage to catch the subtle smile on her face as I do.
I’m certainly not flirting with my brother’s new step-daughter.
Well...step-brother’s new step-daughter, I remind myself as if one more separation in our family tree makes any of this okay. It is definitely not okay, but I’m just buying her a couple drinks and commiserating about how awful the holidays are. I’m not even going to touch her. That would be highly inappropriate and just the thought makes me feel like a creepy old man.
As I’m waiting at the bar, I turn and take a peek back at the table. She’s facing the wall now. There’s an old shuffleboard scoreboard there, and it looks like she’s writing on it. My eyes land first on that bright red hair and drift slowly down her back until I notice the way her ass fills out that skirt.
Holy shit. What is wrong with me?
After I grab two more beers, I head back and set them on the table.
“What are you doing?”
She peels away from the wall, and I notice the chalk in her hand. On the old green board is a bearded man with a scowl and a Santa hat. It’s very clearly me, and I laugh although I’m half-amused and half-astonished.
“Did you just draw that?”
“Yeah,” she answers with a shrug. “I thought since the board was green it gives you a nice Grinchy hue.”
A laugh escapes my lips again. “Holy shit, Audrey, that’s fuckin’ awesome.”
“Thanks.” She dusts her hands off and heads back to the table to grab her drink. Her cheeks are a little pink now either from a blush or the beer. Either way, it makes her look cute.
And really, she doesn’t need much to be cute. She has big round eyes and full lips with soft, pale skin. She may look nineteen, but she doesn’t act like it. At least she’s way more mature than any teenager I’ve ever met.