His accompanying grin is infuriating. Not only does he look gorgeous in dark jeans, hiking boots, a thermal, and a powder blue sweater vest that brings out his eyes, but it’s impossible not to recall the special jobs I gave him back when we were dating. Jobs I gave often, mostly due to his insanely hot reaction and the way he regarded me during. It drove me insane to watch him come undone. Once upon a time, I loved bringing out the primal ape in him. It is clear by the twinkle in his eyes that the asshole is reading the recollection in my expression.
The slamming of the front door and Gracie’s exit has me gritting out my next reply. “Thatch will never, ever know that conversation happened, got it?”
“Yes, ma’am.” His eyes lower as he tries not to smile, his dark blond lashes flitting over his cheekbones. I’d forgotten about the tiny mole on his lash line, the sight of it doing unwelcome shit to me.
Serena and Thatch exit the house with Peyton in tow and follow Gracie down, passing us with curious glances as I lower my voice.
“That was privileged sister shit you tuned into,” I say, keeping my gaze on them as they begin securing Peyton into their SUV. “You had no right.”
“I’m sorry,” he says softly, drawing my eyes back to him. “You look beautiful without all that makeup. A lot less Groucho Marx.”
“I told you why I wore it.”
“Tell me something else, Whitney…”
The way he says my name…too familiar, too intimate. His scent, his eyes, too damned much. Am I attention-starved? It’s only been a month since my breakup. “What?”
“Are you that uncomfortable that I’m here? Because if you are—”
“GO TIME!” Allen booms from the front door as Ruby exits the house and locks it behind them, eyeing the two of us. “You two are riding with us since your car is nothing but junk.”
“I just called to have it towed away,” I tell my mother, avoiding Eli’s gaze. “They’re calling me back.”
“What happened to your car?” Eli prods.
“I bought a new one,” I say and shake my head. Fuck this. I’m not posing or lying, or putting on airs. My life is what it is. “I mean, I was going to buy a new one when I got—”
“Promoted?”
“Yeah, anyway, I will be getting a new one after Christmas.”
Walking away to close the subject, I get into the back of my Dad’s SUV, and Eli appears on the other side. After buckling in, he leans toward me. “So?”
“So what?”
“Can we talk tonight?”
“About?”
“Just…catching up.”
“Haven’t you heard enough?”
“You can’t exactly blame me. After all, I’m just a simple-minded, emotionless ape with basic sexual needs. According to you, I shouldn’t be blamed for listening to such primal talk.”
I roll my eyes but can’t stop my smile. Eli leans in further, and I catch another hit of his alluring scent. I’m convinced his sudden appearance is just another test by karma or fate to see if this is the year I break.
Both are out of luck. Firmly I decide that by the 1st of January, I will have conquered every single demon that’s come to dance, including the one sitting to my right. Doing my best not to inhale the stench of Christmas past next to me, I feel him eyeing my profile as he wordlessly beckons. Unable to escape him due to the confinement, I turn back to meet his goading, icy gaze.
“Come on, Whit, hang with me tonight. Let’s catch up.”
Mom and Dad slip into the car, and Dad turns the engine over, as does the rest of the motorcade.
“I doubt we’ll be able to,” I whisper. “Dads got our holiday agenda mapped out to the minute.”
“Maybe after?”
I keep my tone non-committal. “Maybe.”
“I promise, no monkey business.”
“Cute.”
“I won’t go apeshit on you.”
“Hilarious.”
Once we’re off, my mother sinks into the passenger seat with an exuberant sigh. “You hear that, Allen?”
“What’s that?” Dad asks, eyeing the rearview.
“Nothing. The sound of nothing.” Mom turns back to look at the two of us. “We thought you’d appreciate a kid-free ride, a little silence before the anarchy begins.” She winks, and Dad pulls out of the driveway, mashing the gas and cursing Brenden’s speed ahead of us.
Gazing out the window at the rapidly passing, snow-covered evergreens, I fight the urge to look at Eli and mull over what he could possibly want to talk about. It’s far too late for an apology—the notion itself is ridiculous. If he wants to get along, I’m all for it. Initial shock aside, I’m determined to woman up and just endure this, but anything more than cordial behavior is asking a bit much. Instead of obsessing over it alone, I lift my cell phone to shoot off a text to Alyssa and realize I have zero bars.