After a quick Google search, I message him an address.
* * *
RAINBOW RIDER – 281 3rd Avenue – See you there in an hour.
* * *
His response is immediate.
* * *
IOBJECT – I’ll be there.
* * *
I set down my phone and grin. Oh, he’s gonna hate me when he realizes where we’re meeting. I almost can’t wait the hour.
Chapter Seven
Andrew
I glance at my phone to double-check the address then look back up at the sign overhead. Sure enough, this is it.
Rolf’s German Restaurant
Christ. It looks like Christmas threw up all over this place. Through the window, I see thousands of Christmas bulbs hanging from the ceiling with garland. Those fake silver icicles hang from the garland, and odd, creepy-looking dolls are stuck in here and there. It’s like a holiday version of hell. My own hell.
“Isn’t it fantastic?”
I turn toward the voice behind me. Fuck me.
Kenzie smiles up at me with her long blonde hair hanging in waves down to her breasts. She wears a cream wool coat that nips in at her waist. Definitely an upgrade from the elf costume. The elf costume didn’t hide her attractiveness, but tonight she looks like a woman that I know beyond a doubt I’ll picture when I’m jacking off again.
I clear my throat. “I assume you picked this place to spite me?”
She grins. “Of course I did. Shall we?” She motions toward the door then skips over there.
She’s obviously still miffed with me and I have no idea how she manages to put a smile on her face and be so jovial.
I follow her into the restaurant and have to blink a few times from being assaulted by the holiday decor. Literally every surface of the ceiling is covered. I almost feel as though I have to duck so I don’t walk into one of those creepy dolls.
Kenzie talks to the host for a moment, and he points at the bar area. She looks over her shoulder at me and motions me forward. “You good if we just sit at the bar? They don’t have any tables available.”
“That’ll do.”
She nods and heads into the bar section, taking the only free two stools at the end of the bar. The bartender walks over to us and gives Kenzie a big smile, leaning in to ask her what she’d like to drink. He’s younger and his Christmas sweater says he’s a fan of the holiday, just like she is.
His blatant appraisal of her irritates me, but I refuse to give any thought as to why.
She studies the drink menu display for a moment before passing it to me. “I’ll have the eggnog cocktail.”
The bartender winks. “One eggnog cocktail coming up. And for you?” He barely spares me a glance before looking back at Kenzie.
“Do you have any beer on tap?”
“He’ll have the Grinch cocktail,” Kenzie butts in, thumbing in my direction.
“Done. Be back in a few.” The bartender takes the drink menu and places it under the bar then walks away.
I’m left staring after him, my jaw ticcing. “Was there a reason I couldn’t order for myself?”
Kenzie shrugs. “Just seemed fitting, don’t you think? Or would you prefer my eggnog?” Her voice is syrupy sweet. It’s clear she feels as if she has the upper hand and she’s trying to get under my skin.
Mission accomplished, but not for the reason she thinks. It’s because she’s now taking off her coat and walking over to hang it on the nearby coat hook and I get my first glimpse of what she’s wearing. Jeans and one of those ugly holiday sweaters, which seems like an oxymoron to me these days given that they’re now in fashion. Her jeans hug her hips, and with her back to me as she tries to reach the highest hook, I get an unobstructed view of her perfect arse. Round, plump, and firm. Practically begging for a man’s hands to squeeze it.
Jesus, what am I thinking? This is Finn’s little sister!
I stand and remove my own jacket, coming up behind her to help her and hang mine on the hook.
Just then, a server squeezes past. “Sorry, excuse me.”
I’m forced to move into Kenzie’s space and press my front to her behind. A quick rush of air leaves her lips, and she stills.
“Apologies,” I mumble and step back as soon as I’m able, taking her jacket and hanging it up with mine. With the discipline of a saint, I avoid the urge to shift myself in my pants.
We take our seats back at the bar as the bartender slides our drinks in front of us. Mine is bright green with a cherry floating between the ice cubes, while Kenzie’s looks like eggnog with cinnamon sprinkled on top and what looks like caramel sauce around the rim.
She picks up both of our drinks with a smile and licks her plump bottom lip then looks at me. “So, do you want to switch drinks?”
“I’d rather you be wearing that elf costume from last night than suffer through one sip of that eggnog.”
She shrugs her shoulder. “Suit yourself.”
Lifting my glass to my lips, I sip and taste a fruity blend mixed with what I think is vodka. It’s not half-bad actually, though I’d never admit it to the woman beside me currently licking the caramel sauce from her lips after setting down her drink.
“You missed a spot.” I point at the right of her mouth.
She sticks out her tongue and tries to reach it, and I roll my eyes, taking a napkin off the pile on the bar.
“Here.” I offer it to her.
She accepts it but completely misses the spot when she dabs at her face.
“Here.” I snatch the napkin from her and gently wipe at the stubborn spot of sticky substance.
It’s not until I’m finished that it dawns on me how close we are to one another. She’s turned to face me, so her legs rest between my spread ones. I let my hand drop and crumple up the napkin, tossing it on the bar while I clear my throat and maneuver my legs around hers so I can once again face the bar.
“What does your sweater say? I didn’t notice,” I ask to break the spell she has me under. Raising my drink to my lips, I take a swig, then set it down and turn my head to look at her.
Her hands are on her hips while she juts her chest out as though she’s proud as punch. “It says, ‘I’m so good Santa came twice.’”
The sip of my drink gets trapped in my throat and I cough, trying to catch my breath.
“Are you okay?” I hear her say through my hacking, but I can’t see her because my eyes are now watering.
Bloody hell, this woman is a menace to my good sense.
It takes me a minute, but I recover, dabbing my eyes with another one of the napkins from the bar. “Sorry, went down the wrong pipe.”
“I thought maybe it was my sweater.” She grins as though she’s enjoying my reaction.
“I’ll be honest, I wasn’t expecting that. I was figuring on something sweet like, ‘Jesus is the reason for the season’ or something.”
“Oh, I love a punny Christmas sweater. Especially if they’re a little dirty.”
“Then that’s a good one.” I nod toward her sweater, purposely averting my eyes away from the way her breasts strain the fabric.