Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

RYAN

B EEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

What the fuck? Who the hell sets an alarm on vacation for their son? I thought, but then my head started pounding. A freight train barreled through the middle of the bedroom. My head exploded upon impact. Brain fog hit me, and I groped the night stand next to me, blindly searching for the damn alarm clock and finding it.

Silence.

I rolled over, gripping the pillow in my arms, and praying for sleep to take me again so the subtle pounding in my head might take a long winter's sleep. Not a hangover, but the type of headache that crept up on me every long stint, when the schedule took us to the West Coast for a few races.

That's when I realized I was naked.

I never slept naked. Briefs. Even boxers.

But birthday suit? Nope.

Ever since Van and Luc pulled the put-my-damn-bed-in-the-middle-of-the-campgrounds at Mid-Ohio one race weekend. I still owed them both for that stunt.

Panicked, I sat up and instantly regretted it. The room spun, but a few seconds later, the world righted itself. When it did, not one thing looked familiar, even in my slightly blurred vision.

Where the hell were my glasses?

No navy blue comforter or dark wood bed frame. No dresser with the trophies I'd won in go-karts growing up. Nothing I recognized graced the walls.

"Hey there, sleepy head." A bolt of electricity shot its way through the pounding head and bewilderment at the sound of her voice. The aroma of coffee teased me, and I let out an involuntary moan of pleasure. A steaming mug of black coffee appeared in front of me, and I accepted it from her eagerly. Fuck, it was good.

And there she was. Did I squint because I was hungry for another look, even though the other sex was the last thing I should be thinking about?

Hell yes.

Mikayla Jayne, looking even sexier and sassy and so out of my league with her sleeve of colorful tattoos and black off the shoulder shirt hitting her mid thigh where another tattoo teased and tempted. Long legs, gorgeous thick thighs…

Wait. Holy Shit.

Did we sleep together? I thought hard, but the last thing I remembered from the night before was sitting on the couch in the pool house, which had to be where I was, after driving her home from my mom's place. Fuck, I had been so tired, but I couldn't resist when she asked me to come inside for a drink.

That damn Naughty List. I knew better, but there's something about Mikayla. She made me want to be reckless. Do things without thinking them through. I didn't react. Research, details, then make an informed decision.

"Easy, there CK. Water, coffee and a little pain relief?"

Clear blue, no green, eyes watched me as an amused smile played on her lips. I nodded my thanks, and grabbed the coffee first, then twisted the cap off the water bottle to take the Tylenol. Cold water sluiced its way down my throat, and fuck, it was like magic. I cleared my throat and murmured, "Thank you."

"Glasses are on the nightstand," she said, biting her lip. Fuck, it made me want to bite it, too, among other places. I slid them on, then finished the water before I said something stupid.

The way her eyes took in my bare torso told me, yep, something fucking happened, and I didn't remember a damn thing. Blasphemy. This woman deserved to be worshiped, especially after learning what a douche her ex had been to her.

Mikayla Jayne wasn't a fucking snack. She was a goddamn feast, to be savored, enjoyed, and worshiped over and over. Was I the man for the job?

Fuck, I didn't know. Especially if I forgot sleeping with her.

"Holy inner monologue, CK."

I wrinkled my brow. "What?"

Her hand fluttered at all of me. "So serious. All those inner thoughts must be driving you crazy." Ocean eyes darted to where the sheet covered anything that might embarrass both of us. And the semi that twitched at the thought of her giving it any attention.

I contemplating pretending that nothing happened, but fuck, that was even worse than if I pretended we did. "Did we?"

Eyes widened at my words. "Geez, didn't realize I was so forgettable." Her tone was playful, but underneath, I detected a note of hurt.

Fuck. Because he made her feel that way.

"Definitely not forgettable, baby girl."

Another one of those bite-her-lip moments. I fought the urge to scoop her up and show her what it was doing to me. Though if she glanced down, she'd see my dick making a tent under her sheets.

My phone chose that second in time to conveniently ping with an incoming text.

It's like my mom has a sixth sense, and can't help herself.

MOM: Must have missed you before your run, but I'm out ‘running' errands. I emailed the list for you and Mikayla. She's lovely, isn't she? Thank you, kiddo.

"Let me guess. Mom text."

"Yep."

"Mine hit me up about an hour ago. And the list? This fucking decking the halls is intense."

I snorted. "Always is."

"The two of them teaming up is seriously a Christmas celebration even Santa would think is overboard. Just wait until you see the list they emailed. Looks like you'll have allllll afternoon to remember all the dirty details, CK."

I couldn't quite decipher the expression on her face, but just as I opened my mouth, she hit me with, "I'm going to take a nice, long, hot shower. But you might need a cold one." A smirk spread across those lips as she looked pointedly at my now full on erection, spun on her heel, and walked into what I assumed was the bathroom. "Meet at your place, so you can…take care of things?"

The door shut behind her., doing nothing to calm down thoughts of stuffing her stocking or licking the icing of her Christmas cookie. When the shower turned on a second later, all I could think of was finding out what all her tattoos were. Up close. With my tongue.

Fucking Naughty List.

An hour later, I paced the foyer back and forth like a nervous teenager going on his first date. Except it wasn't a date, was it?

No matter what my mom thought, setting me up wasn't what I needed to forget. About the things I needed to get away from, the memories. Regardless of the fact that I had a crush on my best friend for years, I was over the damn moon that she and Luc worked their problems out. Her happiness was everything. Just not at Christmas. With that rock on her finger.

Thank God the empty house stayed that way. Mom saw way too fucking much sometimes, and if she thought for a second, anything had happened between Mikayla and I?

Worse than that kid whining about wanting that stupid toy gun in A Christmas Story. Never ending, and she'd probably have us having four kids, living in some suburb with a dog, a cat, and a fish named Betty.

I heard the car pull up, bolted to the front door, and whipped it open before she even had one gorgeous leg out of the car.

"Are you seriously holding a print out of the email?" she said, hand on her hip, eyes narrowed in on me. "I bet you plan out every second of your day, and already have a route mapped out for the most efficient use of our time."

This whirlwind of a woman who has invaded my thoughts, even as I try to resist after convincing myself that I was good at being alone.

The words registered, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from…her.

From every part of her hair that my palm fucking longed to wrap my fist around, to her lips and the damn nose ring winking at me, tempting me to get closer, and breathe in her intoxicating scent. To the expanse of colorful art dotting the skin her tank showed off along one shoulder. I glared at her, arms crossed and trying to appear stern but fighting a smile, only half serious. "I always plan out a strategy."

"Strategy?"

One side of my mouth lifted, and I gave in with a shrug. "Work smarter, not harder."

Mikayla's eyes went from my mouth, downward, then back up. "You don't like harder."

Holy fucking coal in my damn stocking. She wasn't making things easy, was she? But before I could even form a coherent thought, she said, "Time to Fa La La La La, CK, before our moms concoct the second part of their scheme."

"Second part?"

Her wicked laughter shot straight to my cock. Better than any colorfully wrapped present could ever be. Unwrapping Mikayla Jayne?

Endless Christmas mornings, waking up, not knowing what to expect, but also knowing that it would be an adventure you'd not soon forget.

"If you think just sending us out on a few errands is going to satisfy either of them, then you haven't spent any time with my mother. Prom date story, remember? And your mom might be happy for your friend Alex, but there's not a mom out there that doesn't think she knows what's best. The two of them together?"

"We're screwed."

"Oh, CK. You can say it. We're fucked. Welcome to the matchmaking holiday from hell." She winked. "At least you look good naked." Hips swaying, she sauntered closer, took the email I printed out just before she arrived, licked her lips, and spun on her heel. "Let's go get this over with before they launch phase two. And who knows," she threw over her shoulder, "maybe you'll remember how you made me moan and beg last night."

Full on hard on. I was so screwed.