Mistletoe Mail

PROLOGUE

Jenna

The techno beat softens as I traipse through the opulent mansion, escaping the chaos for a moment of peace. Pushing deeper inside, I’m surprised to find that it’s empty. There are hundreds of people outside.

Did I miss a “do not enter” sign?

I shiver at the silence. I’ve never actually been here, but this hockey house is known for throwing epic parties, and I’ve heard a lot about the inside of their palace-like home. It’s not usually off-limits. Though considering today is the Fourth of July foam pit party, the rules may have changed.

I wouldn’t want anyone trudging through my house in bubble-soaked attire. But who would have guessed the guys on the hockey team were forward thinkers like that?

My gaze rakes over the luxurious furnishings—the marble mantel, the grand mahogany dining table—and my mouth twitches in amusement. What in the interior design loving hell?

Did I stumble into the twilight zone?

When I finally reach the living room, my jaw drops at the eight-seater sectional sofa and accompanying massage chairs, but I shouldn’t be surprised.

Grateful is a better reaction. I’m practically drooling at the comfort staring back at me.

With a moan, I take a step closer just as an external door opens and the thumping beat of an unfamiliar remix filters inside.

“Jenna! Are you in there? I want you to meet someone,” my roommate, Penelope, calls from the threshold, and I wince, my longing stare locked on the plush couch, begging to be sat on. I was so close.

If ignoring her was an option, I’d continue on my way, but Pen on a sober day is pushy. Pen drunk…I have no hope in hell of avoiding this.

Glancing over my shoulder, I pray for someone to distract her, but when she calls out again, excitement clear in her voice, I relent.

“Jenna!”

“Yeah. I’m here, and I’m coming.”

“That’s what she said.” Pen’s roaring laughter soars over the music, and I’d join in if she wasn’t dead wrong.

She didn’t say that at all. She being me. Because tonight has been a shit show to say the least, and I’m done. If I wasn’t waiting for Penelope’s boyfriend to drive us home, I’d be long gone. I’m not feeling it tonight. Nothing is going to pull me from this funk.

Adjusting my boobs in my tight black romper, I blow out a breath and make my way toward the yard, knowing what’s coming.

Pen’s trying to set me up. Again. She feels bad after her cousin told the world—or at least, the sophomore theater cohort—that I was bad in bed.

All because he wanted more and I wasn’t interested.

It didn’t help that I may have mentioned his best friend was a more alluring option.

It’s my fault. I get it. I bruised his ego. But the truth is…I don’t care about the rumors he’s spreading. I’m a good fuck. The annoying thing is that now, I don’t know if people want me for me, or to test out Brant’s theory.

I’ve come to the realization that I might have to wait until the gossip dies down before hooking up again. And the idea of that sucks.

“Hurry up,” Pen calls out as I’m turning the corner, her annoyance morphing into a grin.

“It’s not my fault this place is huge—I was at the other end of the house.”

“You’re here now and this is Jack.” Pen grabs the guy beside her, thrusting him toward me as she bounces on her toes. “Say hi, Jack.”

Jack’s eyes widen and I force a smile, leaning back. Pen pushed him so hard that if he wasn’t a giant of a man, we’d be face-to-face. Instead, my eyes lock on the tee pulled tight over his muscular chest before lifting to his face. And hello, gorgeous.

“Hey. Jenna, was it?” He smiles and I do a double take. His deep voice has a twang to it that I wasn’t expecting.

“That’s me.” I wave, tilting my head in intrigue. “What is that accent?”

“I’m Aussie.”

“You’re Australian?” I gape, a giddiness running through me.

“Sure am.”

“What are you doing here?”

Pen waves at me from behind Jack’s shoulder and I roll my eyes. “Excuse me a second, Jack. Yes, you’re free to leave, Pen. I’m a big girl.”

“Thank you. Have a good night, Jack.”

Jack spins to watch Penelope walk away, and when she’s gone, he turns back to face me, his expression wary. “She’s not subtle at all.”

“No, she’s not. And full transparency, you’re the fourth guy she’s introduced me to tonight.”

“Wow.” His lips remain in a surprised O.

“Yep.”

“How do I fare in relation to the others?” He adopts a superman-like pose, and I can’t help checking him out. If only he was wearing fitted spandex pants like a superhero. Then I could see what he’s packing.

“Please take your time.” His words cut into my ogling, and I bite back a smirk.

“I’m done. But I can’t answer yet. It depends.”

“On?”

“Your responses to a few well-crafted questions.”

“Hit me. I’m game.” He taps his chest and I almost reach out to do the same.

“Okay. One. Why are you here? In the US?”

“I’m on an athletic scholarship. My university back home offered an exchange program to improve our skills.”

“Nice. And what skills would that be?”

“I have many.” He bounces his eyebrows. “But the program is specifically for rugby.”

“Rugby?” My eyes widen. “But you're at a hockey house.”

“Good observation. My roommate is on the team.”

“Ahh, gotcha.”

“What’s my next question?”

“How many women have you slept with since arriving?”

“None.” He cringes and my face crinkles involuntarily. “I’m sensing that’s not the answer you wanted, but it’s an unfair question. I’ve only been here for a month.”

“A month is a long time to go without sex.” His face contorts, much like mine did, so I quickly add, “for some,” and wink as though I’m joking. “Next question,” I squeak out. “Do you know Penelope’s cousin, Brant?”

“Ah, no. Should I?”

“Nope. That’s a good answer. Last one. Have you heard any rumors about me?”

Jack frowns but he's quick to answer. “I didn’t know who you were until about five seconds before Penelope shoved me your way.”

“So…that’s a no?”

“It is. Though now I’m curious.” He quirks an eyebrow in question.

“No need to be.” I smile innocently. “You passed the test.”

“Great. What do I win?”

My lips twist and I try hard not to let my eyes drop to his body. “I haven’t decided yet. Want to come and sit down?”

With a thoughtful gaze, Jack considers my question before letting out a short laugh and following me inside. “Lead the way. I’m seeing this through.”

I’m laughing so hard, I snort obnoxiously, covering my mouth with my hand. “That’s not real, is it? You don’t all talk like that?”

“Try me,” Jack challenges, raising a brow, making me smile at his boyish charm.

“Oh-kay. Give me a second to think.”

He pauses when we reach the sorority house next to the hockey mansion, pulling me to a stop. Perhaps not wanting our time to come to an end.

We’ve been walking for the better part of an hour, chatting constantly, the smile barely leaving my face. In fact, we haven’t stopped talking since Pen introduced us a few hours ago. There’s something familiar about Jack. Despite us never previously meeting, we click. And that’s rare for me.

Leaning against the white picket fence of the Alpha Kappa whatever house, I ponder Jack’s challenge. Apparently, Australians can use the word “right” as a response to almost anything, and he wants to prove it.

“Got one. Did you know I’m auditioning for the role of Ophelia in a local production of Hamlet next month?”

“Yeah, right?” His tone lifts when he says “right” and I burst out laughing.

“Holy hell. It doesn’t make any sense and yet it does.”

“Told ya.” He winks.

“Okay. What about this? I need help running lines, I—”

“Righto,” he cuts in before I’ve finished my question.

“Right-oh?”

“Yep. I said what I said.”

My laughter echoes through the quiet night air, and I half expect one of the sorority girls to come out and scold me. They're not the partying type. It’s no accident their house borders the hockey team.

“You, Jack Bailey, are a funny fucker.”

I’ve learned so much in the last few hours that it feels as though I’ve known him forever. It may be surface level for now, but something tells me there’s more to Jack than meets the eye. And for some reason, I think I can trust him.

“Why, thank you.” He gloats, flashing me a teasing grin. “I try. It’s how I get the ladies.”

“Riiight.” I drag out the word and stare at him deadpan.

His jaw drops and his booming laughter follows. “Nailed it. I’ll make an Aussie out of you yet.”

“I’m looking forward to it. But back to you and the ladies. You know it’s your abs, right?” I run my hands over the ridges apparent through his tight-fitting tee, following his V until I reach the waistband of his jeans.

“I do now,” he rasps, shuddering slightly, his innocence a little endearing.

My phone rings before I can respond and I check the screen to find Pen calling.

“Excuse me a second,” I say as I answer. “Pen?”

“Mike is here to pick us up. Are you coming or did I do good this time?” My eyes flash to Jack, and the shadow of his smirk tells me he can hear what she’s saying.

“I think I’m going to stay out a little while longer. I’ll get an Uber when I’m ready.”

“Yes! I knew it. See you in the morning.”

I hang up, and Jack’s eyes lock on mine, a question in his gaze. A question I’m not sure I have the answer to. Because while I’m not at all ready to end our night together, I don’t think it will end the way Pen assumes.

I have a feeling we’re more likely destined to be friends. And I could use some more friends right now.