Chapter 9
nine
I ’ve never been great at sleeping in other people’s beds. It doesn’t matter how much alcohol I’ve had or how lifeless my body is from a thorough fucking. My eyes pop open, and I groan quietly when I see it’s only eight a.m. Then I remember I promised Dad we’d go Christmas tree hunting today.
Zach’s snores draw my eyes over to where he lies on his back. One arm is thrown over his eyes, the other hand is tucked into the elastic of his briefs. While he was generous between my thighs, he’s not a cuddler. I’m not complaining, though; it makes sneaking off the mattress easier.
Our clothes are thrown about the room, and it takes me a couple minutes to find all the layers to put back on. Creeping down the stairs, I take in the house in the daylight. It’s a lot less rustic than my family’s place. Meaning the decor gives modern cabin chic instead of 1980’s hunting lodge.
I shove my feet into my boots and tighten my jacket before sneaking out the front door and latching it quietly behind me. When I turn to carefully descend the front steps, I crash into something hard.
“Oof.” Warm air puffs from my lips as I bounce back. Better than the scream I’d usually let loose when something startles me.
A few logs clatter to the porch, and I jump out of the way, nearly avoiding crushed toes.
A grumbled curse meets my ears, and I finally focus on the person I never expected to see again.
“You!” I accuse, and his eyebrows crinkle in confusion. “What the hell are you doing here, sneaking around like that.”
“I wasn’t sneaking. I was bringing more wood in for the fireplace,” he answers, but then his dark eyes narrow. “If anyone is sneaking, it’s you, doing the early morning walk of shame.”
“Fuck you. You don’t know me or what I was doing here. You still didn’t answer me. What are you doing here?”
“I’m staying here. And I’m aware of what you were doing here. Koda, is it? I’m pretty sure if we had any neighbors, they would have called the cops for an animal mauling with the noise you and my cousin were making last night.”
“Cousin?” I say, ignoring his annoyingly blatant hint that he was in the house last night and heard everything that happened between Zach and me.
“Zach’s cousin. Now, if you’ll stop blocking the door to my house, I’d like to get inside and stop freezing my balls off.”
I’m too stunned to quip back, so I step aside and let him disappear through the front door. He has no reason to shut it quietly. When it slams shut, the noise lights a fire under my ass, and I all but run down the porch steps and up their drive to the main road, looking back over my shoulder every few feet.
My nose is frozen and dripping by the time I make it home. I beeline to the fireplace and curl up in front of the roaring fire.
“There you are.”
I look over my shoulder and notice my dad sitting at the kitchen table, a steaming cup of coffee clutched between his hands.
“Jesus, why didn’t you say something when I came in?”
“You looked like you were on a mission. I didn’t want to interrupt.” He takes a long sip from his mug, looking me over. “You didn’t come home last night.”
“Yeah, I, uhm, had a little too much at the bar and decided to crash at Jennifer’s.”
“Mm.” He hums.
“What?” I bite out. The dull thud of a headache is starting to spread through my skull.
“Just wish you would have texted to let us know. I know you’re grown and don’t live at home anymore, but that doesn’t mean we don’t worry about you. What if you’d passed out in a snowbank or got mauled by a bear.”
“A bear? Really, Dad?”
He shrugs and stands up, moving around the kitchen to pour a second cup of coffee. He pours in the creamer and walks over to where I’m still spread out before the fireplace, thawing from my fifteen-minute walk.
“Well, with those marks all over your neck, what else am I supposed to suspect,” he says with a grin, holding the mug out for me to grab. “Jennifer, huh? I didn’t think she’d be your type.”
My shoulders rise, pushing up against my ears to try and hide said marks. “Uhm, she’s not. Not that she isn’t beautiful, but the experimenting in college did stick.”
His eyes are knowing like he’s been baiting me this entire time.
“I was with Zach at his family’s place.” Then I remember bumping into some supposed cousin of his I’d never heard of. “Did you know he has a cousin? That’s here?”
“Your Oma didn’t mention anything. So, no. I hadn’t heard. I’m sure they’re happy to have more family here for the holidays,” he says, clueless to my interactions with the irritating grouch.
I nod, not expanding on my question. The coffee is strong, and the spicy sweetness of the eggnog added is the perfect combination of caffeine and sugar. I’m praying it will alleviate the drum solo happening in my head.
“Are you in a rush to get out this morning?” I ask.
“No, your mom’s still dead to the world. It’ll be a couple hours by the time she’s up and ready to trek into the woods.”
Gulping down the rest of my mug, I shove it onto the coffee table. “Throw me that blanket, please?”
He reaches onto the back of the couch and tosses it to me on the floor.
“Perfect, wake me up when she’s up,” I tell him, tucking the blanket around my body and curling back up on the floor. Before I can close my eyes, a pillow hits me in the face.
“Lazies, the lot of you,” he chides, but there’s enough happiness in his smile to power a small town. He shakes out a newspaper and sits back against the couch, reading quietly as I drift back to sleep.
“What’s wrong with this one?” he asks, hand gripping the spindly trunk of the pathetic tree.
“How are we going to hang anything off that? The branches can barely hold up the needles left on it.”
“Every tree deserves a little love, peanut. It doesn’t have to be perfect to serve its purpose.”
Leave it to my hippie dad to decide every tree deserves to be a Christmas tree, but not see the irony of cutting it down.
“Mom, come on. Help me out, talk some sense into your husband.” But when I turn to plead with her, the sappy, love-struck, goo-goo eyes she’s watching him with leave me with zero hope.
I throw up my arms in defeat. “Fine, bring home the Charlie Brown tree, then.”
My dad whoops with excitement, punching a triumphant fist in the air. I keep up my irritated facade, but inside, I’m a puddle. Watching his childlike happiness is adorable. He gets to sawing it down, though I don’t expect it to take long.
Mom pops the cup off the thermos, pouring out the steaming peppermint hot chocolate.
“So, how was your night?”
“Oh, God. Not you, too.”
“What?” She looks at me innocently, handing over the cocoa.
“Don’t pretend Dad didn’t slink off to the bedroom to tell you who I spent my night with.”
“Of course, he did. He’s always liked Zach.” She leans in bumping me with her shoulder.
“Mom, it’s not like we’re a thing now. It was just?—”
“A one-night stand?” She beats me to it, a knowing glint in her eye. “We’re still here for a few more days, don’t cut your fun short.”
“Uhm, thanks.” I hand her back the half-empty mug. “I’m going to go help Dad,” I tell her, trying to get away from the sex-heavy conversation with my mother.