Naughty or Nice

7. Henry

7

HENRY

DECEMBER 7

I ’ve never been a lazy morning person. When I was younger, there was always so much to do, so much to learn, so much ravenous excitement for the world around me. I got into the habit of waking up and jumping straight out of bed, ready to take on the day. And there’s no reason to stay in bed at the research station—they’re uncomfortable as all hell.

But there’s something about Rora that makes me want to drag out this morning for as long as possible. She’s still fast asleep, half on top of me, her blonde hair strewn across my chest. The shorter pieces that usually frame her face flutter as she breathes deeply, her face softer in sleep.

God, she really was onto something with the whole “he sees you when you’re sleeping” thing. It’s intimate—not something I’d usually let myself enjoy—but I don’t want it to end.

Soft pink light streaks through Rora’s tangerine curtains, beaming a hazy orange glow across the room. It’s not what I’d have expected from her room. Glow-in-the-dark stars are dotted across the ceiling, the kind I remember being all the rage in the 90s. Sunrise colors cover every inch of the room: yellow, pink, orange, and purple. It’s a perfect balance of soft, bright, and summery, the antithesis of the town that celebrates Christmas year-round.

I raise a hand, running a finger over the wing of one of the fabric butterflies pinned in a line going up the wall like they’re flying.

“Those were a Pottery Barn special back in 2010. Everyone wanted them—well, all pre-teen girls did, anyway,” Rora finishes with a yawn, stretching out so the blankets slip down to her waist. “Morning.”

“Mornin’.” I swallow, trying not to be a creep who can’t stop staring at her. But she’s so fucking beautiful—even more so in the morning, lit by the glow of the sunrise, her eyes still heavy with sleep. “When did you last change anything in here?”

“My sophomore year of high school, maybe? I didn’t spend much time here after my parents both started traveling again. I mostly stayed with—” She cuts herself off as if she doesn’t want to mention my family, like doing so will burst the little bubble we’ve sequestered ourselves away in.

But The Enchanted Workshop opens in a few hours, and we have to show up and act like we didn’t spend the night together. Just the thought has me tightening my hold on her.

The bubble is already at breaking point. If we don’t want things to be weird, we’re just going to have to pretend they’re not already weird. Which means talking about my family just like we did before last night.

“It’s good that you had them,” I say before I lose my nerve.

A slightly raised brow is the only sign Rora’s surprised I’m talking about them.

“I was lucky to. Still am. I talk to them all the time when I travel. And when I come back… It’s like I never left.” She doesn’t need to spell it out for me to know that Rora considers them family, just like I know my brother considers her one of his own.

Which makes this all the weirder. I can’t imagine Charlie would be remotely okay with Rora and me hooking up, but at least I don’t have to worry about coming between her and Noelle .

“I ran into Noelle on the way here,” I tell her. “She said you asked her if she was okay with this.”

Rora searches my face like she’s trying to see if I’m upset by her talking to Noelle. “It seemed like the right thing to do. Are you… Is it okay that I did?”

I run my hand down her back, tracing her spine. “I’m glad you did. It made me realize you’d actually been thinking about this and it wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment thing because we’d been flirting earlier.”

“Oh, I’ve been thinking about it. Constantly.”

“Would it be weird if I said I had, too?”

Her brows knit together. “Why would it be weird?”

“Y-you know,” I stammer, gesturing at nothing and everything. “You’re so… I’m a lot older than you. I don’t want you to think I’ve been sexualizing you or anything.”

Amusement flashes in her eyes. “Henry, you were inside me less than twelve hours ago. I think it’s safe to say I’m okay with you sexualizing me.”

Blood rushes to my cheeks. “I guess that’s true. But I’m out of my depth here. I don’t normally do this.”

“Casual sex?”

“Casual sex, I do. Just not usually with people almost twenty years younger than me. And then there’s the whole complicated family element…”

Rora wrinkles her nose and lifts her shoulder in a shrug. “I’ll admit the family element is a little weird, but I’m an adult.”

Shit. This is coming out wrong. “I know you are. But you’re an adult who’s the same age as my niece. It’d be worrying if I wasn’t at least a little hesitant.”

“I’ll give you that,” Rora replies with a snort. “For the record, this isn’t something I do either.”

“So, the Santa kink isn’t a year-round thing?” I tease, and Rora scowls.

“It’s not a— Shut up. I meant the casual sex with people almost twenty years older than me,” she mimics me, rolling her eyes. “Or casual sex at all.”

“Seriously? But you’re always traveling. Do you do long distance?”

Rora tugs the covers back up over her shoulders and snuggles into me. “Nope. Honestly, I’m not usually interested in people like this. Occasionally, I meet someone I’m attracted to and want to hook up with”—she gestures to me—“but it doesn’t happen often. It’s been a while, actually.”

Curiosity gets the better of me. “How long is a while?”

“Ten months, maybe? Yeah, it must be,” she confirms after thinking it over. “The last person I hooked up with was a woman in Boston last Halloween who was really into biting. Took me a couple of months to heal.”

“Damn. That makes the Santa kink look pretty tame, sugar.”

She grabs a pillow that’s an inch from falling off the bed and whacks me with it.

“What about you? Do you do the long-distance thing? I’m guessing opportunities to meet people are thin on the ground in Greenland.”

“I try not to get involved with anyone I work with regularly, but we get a lot of guest researchers at our station. Long distance is a no for me. I’ve done it twice and never again.”

“That bad?”

“Awful. The first time wasn’t the worst. We just fought all the time, and we were miserable for two years before she ended things. The second time, he just stopped calling one day, and a few months later, I found out he had a husband and kids.”

Rora grimaces. “Ouch.”

“Right? I’m too clingy for long-distance, anyway.”

“Oh, I can totally see you being clingy,” she says, laughing at my answering frown.

I lightly pinch her waist, and she squeaks, trying to wriggle away from me but just ending up breathless and practically straddling me.

We still, my breath catching in my throat. The blankets are well and truly gone, bunched up at the foot of the bed, leaving us both naked.

Rora inhales, tracing the swirl of the cloud tattoo covering my left pec, then resting her hand flat on my chest. I can’t tell if her hand is cold or my skin is just blazing, but a shiver snakes through me.

“I like these. Are they all related to the Arctic?”

“Mostly.”

She listens with rapt attention as I talk her through my tattoos: the clouds, iceberg, the top-down view of the arctic circle on my chest, and the arctic animals winding around my right arm. My left arm is covered in mountains and trees, and…

“A single Christmas tree,” I point out. It’s not obvious if you’re not looking for it.

I expect her to give me shit for it, but her eyes soften. “This is the same one Charlie has.”

“We got them before I moved to Washington for my PhD and promised we’d always spend Christmas together. I think we knew it wouldn’t be possible forever, but it was a nice thought.” Charlie’s seven years older than me and was already married with two kids by the time I left Texas.

“They’re all beautiful,” Rora says, nodding at my tattoos, “but the Christmas tree is my favorite.” She glances at the clock on the nightstand and frowns. “I suppose we should get ready for work.”

“Probably, yeah.”

But Rora doesn’t move right away. She looks at my tattoos, then the window, then her lap—everywhere but my face. I know where this is going before she even opens her mouth. It’s the only way this can go, but I was more okay with that yesterday than I am this morning .

“I’m glad we did this,” she says, sitting back and pulling her hands away from my chest.

“Me too.”

“But you’re right: it’s complicated and a little weird. I like you, but we’re both leaving, and we’re going to run into each other over the years at family things.”

“Yeah. We should probably just cut this off at one night and enjoy it for what it was.”

Rora nods, but her eyes are as dull as I feel. “Exactly.” She swings her leg over me and gracefully hops down. “But there is one thing I want you to do.”

“What?”

She grabs my phone from the nightstand and hands it to me. “Call your boss and accept the job. Last night proves that stepping out of your comfort zone can be fun.”

I close my fist around the phone, smiling. “You might be right. I’ll call.”

“Good.” Rora crouches down and picks up my pants from where I dropped them. “We should’ve thrown these in the wash last night. I don’t suppose they can go in the dryer?”

I chuckle, remembering how worried she was about messing them up last night. “They’re dry clean only, but I have a spare pair.”

“Of course you do.” She narrows her eyes at them. “Were you wearing the suit when you ran into Noelle last night?”

I wince and nod.

“Oh god,” she groans, closing her eyes. “I’m never going to live this down.”