Page 7 of The Naughty List
“You’ll have to come out this summer when we’re open,” I say to Audrey.
“I’d love that,” she answers looking into my eyes.
Oh yeah, I’m fucked.
After dinner, we all start to head back to the house when one of her brother’s kids asks to see Christmas lights and the whole group agrees on that idea. I look at Audrey who’s walking toward my truck.
I assume she’d rather skip the lights, but I don’t want to admit that I would almost like to see them with her. I don’t know why. This really isn’t my thing, and maybe I just want to be in the truck alone with her for longer.
She tries to read my expression before finally turning to the rest of the group and announcing, “Yeah, we’re in.”
Everyone piles into their cars, and I feel a sudden burst of relief when no one requests to ride with us. I want to be alone with her. I won’t touch her or do anything crazy, but I just want to be alone with her.
So her brothers get in their giant SUV with their wives and two kids. Roger, Mel, and her parents get in their car, leaving Audrey with me.
The minute she and I are alone again, the elephant in the room is back. I touched her leg at dinner. I held her hand!
Starting the truck, I let the rest of the cars go first before I follow. They can still see us through the windshield, so I keep my composure as I put the truck into drive. I keep a good distance behind Roger’s car, but my hand is twitching to touch her again. Christmas music plays quietly on the radio.
Finally, I’m unable to keep it any longer. “I’m sorry about the restaurant,” I blurt out.
Her head turns in my direction. “Sorry for what?”
“For touching your leg. That was inappropriate.”
“I don’t think it was inappropriate,” she replies. Just then we reach a drive-through Christmas light display. As we start to move through the streets, she turns up the music just a touch. Santa Baby plays through the cab.
“I liked you touching my leg,” she mumbles almost so lightly I don’t hear it. We’re both looking at the lights, and goddammit, it’s actually nice. For two people who hate Christmas, I hate to admit how much I’m enjoying this with her.
“It’s inappropriate, Audrey,” I add in flatly.
“Again, I don’t care.” This time, she looks at me, and I glance at her, and I’m sure that if I wasn’t in a moving vehicle, I’d kiss her. I’d go to hell for it, but I’d do it anyway.
“I’m too old for you,” I whisper. In this dim light with the Christmas lights twinkling over her ruby red locks, she looks even more beautiful.
“That’s not fair,” she protests. Now, she’s not even looking at the lights. Her gaze is trained on me, and I can’t stop myself from reaching over the center console to slide her hair through my fingers.
“I’m sorry, Audrey, but life isn’t fair sometimes. I had fun today, but you’re my brother’s step-daughter. He’d kill me, and I’m just guessing here, but so would your mom.”
She exhales, letting her shoulders slump as she turns to face forward. “Then do me a favor and stop being so fucking nice to me.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t do that,” I reply, feeling like the biggest asshole in the world.
“I hate Christmas,” she mutters, and then I remember, so do I.
3
Audrey
The rest of the ride is silent. I feel as if my balloon has just been popped. The chemistry and connection I shared with Grant, those brief few moments where I didn’t feel so alone and like someone actually saw me for me, is gone.
Why? Because my mother had to go and be married to his brother.
His step-brother. What is the big deal? Why can’t Grant understand that boys my age don't treat me like he does? In just one day, I got to feel real potential in a relationship, but because he’s a few years older, we’re just going to throw that potential away.
I hate to act like a spoiled brat who didn’t just get her way, but that’s all I’m feeling at the moment. When we get back to the house, I don’t say anything to anyone. I just stomp off to my room, tearing off my wedges and throwing them in the corner. A few minutes later, a knock on my door startles me and keeps me from sobbing into my pillow like I want to.
“Come in,” I call, my heart jumping at the prospect of Grant standing behind the door, but when it opens my mother’s face comes into view and I scowl.