The Plight Before Christmas(90)

“Did anything else happen?”

“Shit, you tell me. I haven’t drunk that much in a decade.”

“We did get a bit rowdy last night.” We share a grin, and I tap my coffee cup to hers. “He’ll get over it. It was a good night.”

“Yeah, it was. Worth it. By the way, you’ve been pretty tight-lipped. Are we going to talk about,” she jerks her head in the direction of the table.

“Soon. I’m willing to hear him out, and I want to go there, badly. But, I’m trying not to let the twenty-year-old me take over just yet, ya know?”

She reads the old hurt and hesitation in my eyes and nods. “I get that, but,” she glances over at Eli, who gifts her with a smile.

Now she’s batting for him? Damn him and his voodoo icicle eyes.

“It’s just…” The bomb Eli dropped last night about his virginity is burning a hole through my psyche, but I can’t bring myself to confess it to her. It feels so personal—so intimately ours. Even with my person standing in front of me, I want to keep it between me and the man feet away. “My head is doing enough on its own at the moment. I need to be smart about this.”

She stares at me as though I’m literally spewing crap out of my mouth. “Sis, let’s be real. You’re already so fucking gone.”

“Shut up.”

“Pack it up girl, you no longer have a case,” Serena chuckles, and I elbow her in the boob before trailing her into the dining room. Eli looks up to me as I approach, his eyes twinkling as Serena and I shuffle in with matching hangovers.

“Morning, baby man,” Serena kisses Peyton as he stuffs his mouth with remnants of a Cheerio before eyeing Thatch, who doesn’t so much as look up at her.

“Morning, babe,” Serena says, testing the waters—a slight ache in her voice. Thatch simply nods, picking up his spoon and pressing his cereal into the milk. We all glance up as Brenden and Erin stroll up to the table with sated smiles making it glaringly obvious they both had a good night. It’s all I can do not to gawk at Erin as Eli presses his lips together firmly to hide his own amusement. Erin wishes everyone a Snow-White type of ‘good morning,’ and I swear I see birds land on her shoulders as she eases into her seat.

“Mufasa!” Peyton exclaims, pointing to Erin. The whole table bursts into laughter as Erin frowns at his observation, and Serena leans over to enlighten her.

“You’ve got one hell of a sex afro going on, sis.”

Erin’s eyes bulge as she furiously runs her hands through her hair, her gaze darting around. Brenden shrugs with a prideful grin as Erin glowers at him.

“You should be thanking me this morning, wife. I got you out of there as soon as these two idiots started reciting The Pink Lady Pledge.”

“Till death do us part, think pink,” Serena and I recite together before wincing.

“Which movie is that?” Eli asks.

“Even I know that one,” Brenden declares, “Grease.”

Eli nods, “ah.”

“So, Christmas Eve,” Serena addresses Thatch cautiously. “Do you have everything you need to put the b-i-k-e-s together?”

“Yeah,” Thatch says softly, “I’m good.”

“I’ll help,” Eli offers.

“No, man, you don’t have to do that,” Thatch says, distracted by his cereal.

“I really don’t mind. It’ll be cool. I’ve never played Santa.” His admission squeezes my heart as Peyton scolds him with crazy baby eyes pointing his hammer in Eli’s direction. “No Santa!”

“Sorry, buddy,” Eli chuckles.

“No do gain, Lie.” Peyton chides.

“Yes, sir,” Eli lifts his hands. “Really sorry.”

“Otay,” Peyton concedes easily.

I shake my head as Eli and I find ourselves in another stare-off. “Sorry, not even you are safe.”

Eli winks, and my belly flutters. There has to be time for us to talk. Sooner rather than later. He seems to read my thoughts, a whisper of a smile crossing his lips. Lips that have recently set fire to my libido, a fire that’s been raging ever since.

God, I want him. But should I?

“We probably need to get it done today since we’re going to mass tonight,” Thatch says to Eli, “so I’ll take you up on it.”

“Ready when you are,” Eli says, tossing his napkin on his plate.

“I got one for Conner too,” Brenden says, “I’ll catch up with you guys in a bit.”

My eyes flit between the three of them due to the easy camaraderie. Briefly, I have an image of Eli being more than just a temporary fixture at the table. Fear snakes its way into me as my thumping head scolds my repeatedly beating heart for already going there with that line of thinking. A breath later, blinding pain shoots through me. Eyes watering, I turn to see Peyton with his plastic hammer, culprit, and source.

“Oh my God, Peyton,” Serena gasps, “no hit Auntie Whit!”

Peyton speaks up in his defense. “Do not matta! In de past! Past hewts!”

Head smarting and feeling betrayed—I gawk at the baby as a second of silence ensues before the whole table bursts into hysterical laughter. Eli’s laugh in particular bellows throughout the dining room, his head tossed back, body shaking as I turn to Peyton massaging my stinging scalp.