Destiny on Ice (Boys of Winter #1)(49)

I snicker and she looks over at me. “What’s so funny?” she asks as she unlocks the door to her townhouse.

“Nothing,” I reply.

It’s true. Any humor seeps out of me at the prospect of meeting this other guy in her life. But something is weird. When we walk into her high-ceiling, open-space home I don’t notice any signs of someone living here. It’s empty and quiet, and has a closed-up feel.

Still, she clearly mentioned an “Al” to her sister. And he’s supposed to be here.

Done messing around, I flat-out ask, “Where is he, Aubrey?”

She looks totally confused, and I don’t think it’s an act. “Who are you talking about?”

“Al.”

Aubrey gives me a look like I’ve just lost my mind. And then she starts laughing, like hysterically. “Oh my God, you were totally listening in on me when I was talking to my sister. This is too funny.”

How can she find this amusing? It’s definitely not.

Instead of pretending I wasn’t eavesdropping, I admit everything.

“Yeah, okay. I was listening in. And yes, I heard you mentioning some dude named Al. You told your sister you’d take a picture of the guy. And give him a f*cking kiss.” I make a face of disdain. “Really, Aubrey, you have no room to ever judge my past exploits.” I let out a snort. “You and your sister sharing some dude and keeping him at your house like he’s a piece of meat has to be one of the most crossing-the-line, taboo-sick-shit things I’ve ever heard of. And trust me, I’ve heard and seen a lot!”

Aubrey is doubled over with laughter before I even finish my diatribe. I’m dumbfounded that she finds this so amusing.

But she does.

Laughing so hard that she’s bending over and holding onto her black legging-covered thighs for support, she snorts out, “Oh, Brent. You’re killing me here.”

“I’m not trying to kill you, Aubrey,” I say dryly as I scan around for signs of this Al dude. “But someone may die tonight.”

She can’t respond due to the convulsing chortling fit that comes over her next. “Oh my God, Brent. You have to stop. My sides are hurting.”

Sarcastically, I mutter, “It’s really nice you find this all so amusing. ’Cause I sure as hell don’t.” I take a breath, square up. “Where is this guy, anyway? You may as well tell me now. There’s no point in hiding him. I will find this dickhead and deal with him.”

“Come on.” Finally calm, she takes my hand. If I weren’t so pumped to lay this Al motherf*cker out, I’d find her move endearing.

I let her lead me up the stairs, all the while wondering if she’s taking me up to engage in a threesome with this Al guy. Why else would she so willingly lead me to him? Has she mistaken my anger for lust? We’ve already established that she and her sister are little freaks.

Sorry, but kinky as I can be, I am not sharing Aubrey with anyone. When I get to have her, if I ever get to have her, it’s going to be strictly one-on-one action. The things I have planned for her don’t need an audience. And she certainly won’t have energy to spare on someone else.

Just the thought that there could be someone else gets my blood boiling. When we reach a closed door, I stop and disengage my hand from hers.

“Hey, I think I should go in alone to talk to this guy, okay?” That makes her snicker. “It’s not funny, Aubrey,” I add, seeing red.

“Brent, calm down.”

“I don’t want to calm down.”

She pushes on the door and I press my lips together. I make a fist with my right hand as I follow her into what is clearly her bedroom. She asks me to stay put as she heads over to a large walk-in closet. She goes in for a few seconds and then comes out with a fuzzy green, floppy-limbed two-foot-high alligator in her hand.

Tossing the stuffed animal my way, she says, “Brent, meet Al, as in Al the Alligator.”

I catch the thing.

And then I start laughing.

God, what was I thinking? Clearly, Aubrey Shelburne owns my ass. She makes me f*cking nuts. I can’t even think straight. Despite every attempt I’ve made to rein in my feelings for her, they exist, indisputable, undeniable.

And, frankly, I’m sick of fighting what I feel for her. Fuck everything. I’m done holding back.

I want to go to her and kiss the hell out of her.

But, whoa, she looks pissed.

Hands on her hips, she informs me, “For the record, Lainey and I have never f*cked Al the Alligator. That would just be…sick.”

“Hmm, I can also see where that might be a problem.” I turn the stuffed alligator over to check out his junk, or lack thereof. “Impossible, it would seem,” I add.

Aubrey lets out a snort of amusement. Thank God she’s not too mad. Since I can’t help but like her even more when she’s fired up, I’m quick to add, “Although…”

“What now, Brent?”

I pin her with a challenging stare. “Al is green. And we all know how much you like inanimate objects that are green.”

“You are such an ass!” She throws something at me—a pillow, I think, from her bed. I duck, and she adds, “I can’t believe you’d bring that up!”

“Oh, I think enough time has passed.” I take a step toward her. “Besides, it wasn’t anything to be ashamed of. We talked about it that night, remember?”