Page 51 of Better Not Pout
Part of me wants to haul her to me and kiss the fuck out of her, showing her just how “adorable” I am. She makes it easy to forget we’re with my entire family, surrounded by a flurry of chaos in the living room of my parents’ cabin.
Tomorrow, we head back to Mistletoe Falls. Our three days at the cabin are up, and even though I sure as hell never thought I’d say it… I wish we could stay longer. Could have just a few more days of faking it, spending our nights wrapped up together in front of the fire, me exhausting her until she falls asleep on top of me after talking for half the night.
Just like we did last night.
It’s ironic that I dreaded coming here this year. Being around my family during the holidays is as exhausting as it is fun because of everyone’s interest in my love life, yet… I’d take this over whatever’s waiting for us back at home.
“She’s right, Wells-y. You look adorbs,” Zander says from beside me, lifting his beer in the air with a shit-eating smirk. “Stripes are your thing, for sure.”
Fucker.
I’m about to tell him to fuck right off when Isla chimes in from across from us, “Honestly, I can’t even believe he’s wearing them right now. I think the only reason that he did it is because Rosalie’s here.”
Rosalie’s eyes widen. “Wait, so you’re telling me that Wells actuallyisn’ta matching pajama kind of guy? I’m shocked. Who would’ve thought?”
Chloe laughs out loud, causing me to roll my eyes, despite my lip curving into a grin against my will.
If my siblings weren’t giving me shit, then something would be wrong. It’s just what we do. But at the end of the day, even if the better part of it was making fun of me because of stupid shit, they’d tear the world down for me if that’s what I needed.
When my injury happened and I had to have the surgery that put me down for weeks, I couldn’t keep them away. Even when I desperately attempted to pusheveryoneaway. I swear they had a damn schedule between the five of them. But they showed up. No matter what. When I was a dick, when I said shit I didn’tmean because I was hurting, when I didn’t say a word to anyone the entire time they were there. They looked past it because they knew that wasn’t really who I am, and they pulled me out of the dark despite it.
“I still can’t believe Mom got us all matching pajamas to wear like we’re five again and not in our forties. Well, most of us,” Isla adds with a shake of her head, bringing the glass of eggnog to her lips.
“Yeah, but I mean, at least they’re comfy, and they could be uglier,” her husband, Ryan, chirps from his spot on the floor, where he’s rocking his and Isla’s newborn baby girl, who is fast asleep, sucking on a pacifier. How she’s sleeping through the amount of chaos in this living room is beyond me, but hey, one thing I’ve learned as an uncle is that kids are resilient. Way more so than most adults I know.
I slide my arm around Rosalie’s shoulder and pull her into my side. For no other reason than wanting to touch her. Plus, since my family thinks we’rereallydating, the more touching, the better.
She’s about to be introduced to possibly the most chaotic McCoy tradition of all of them. Not that I’m worried because she seems to fit in with my family like she’s been here for years and isn’t just meeting them for the first time.
After spending a lazy morning in bed and then the hockey game, she baked cookies with Mom, my sisters, and the kids, and afterward, back at the cabin, she couldn’t stop talking about how much fun she had. How much she loved being around my family. It made my chest feel tight, something unfamiliar brewing beneath the surface.
I knew that they’d love her; I just didn’t think thatI’dlove it this much.
“Alright! The time has come,” Pops says from the front of the room, of course wearing the same matching pajamas as the restof us, except his are looking a bit more tight around the belly. Being happy and old, as he likes to say. “Time for the McCoy Wrap Battle!”
I glance down at Rosalie, and her eyes are wide with excitement, her brow arched in question.
“It’s… fun?”
She laughs, shoulders shaking where I’ve got my arm slung around her. “A little hesitant to believe you when it comes to fun, Wells.”
“Well, guess you’ll just have to trust me.” Sliding my arm off her, I stand from the couch and turn, offering her my hand. When she slides her soft palm in mine, I turn back to Pops.
“We’ve got a volunteer.”
He smiles widely, glancing over at Rosalie, who’s looking like a deer caught in headlights.
I lower my mouth to her ear. “Don’t worry, baby. You know how much I hate to lose.”
Her elbow hits my rib, and I grunt as she laughs, her eyes shining with amusement. “That is not what I’m worried about!’
“Okay, first up, we’ve got Rosalie and Wells and… Scarlett and Amelia. Let’s go. Chop-chop,” Mom says, walking over to my sibling and taking their glasses of eggnog away mid-sip.
Scarlett groans, “Damn, Mom, that’s cold.”
“You can have eggnog after the game,” she chides, sounding more like she’s talking to a child than a grown woman, and I can’t help but chuckle.
When we get to the front of the living room, Pops turns to Rosalie and gives her a quick rundown since it’s her first time playing.
