such an overbearing hard-ass, Ebenezer, I wouldn’t have to scowl so much,” I shoot back.
“If you weren’t such a sarcastic insubordinate, I wouldn’t have to be a hard-ass.”
“And a Merry Christmas to you, Mr. Colson!” Sonja flamboyantly declares as she slaps a Santa hat on Ryder’s head. “You know the rules. You cuss, you sing. You screw up, you drink.”
I bite my lip to keep from cracking up.
That was one of several party rules tonight, accompanying the many drinking games going on. If someone hears you cuss, you have to sing the Christmas song of that someone’s choosing. If you mess up the lyrics before they tell you to stop, you have to take a shot.
The only reason I’m not already hammered at this point is not because I haven’t been cussing. I’ve just been using my inside voice. Who knew I even had one, right?
“‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,’” Sonja tells Ryder gleefully, stating the name of the song he’s supposed to belt out.
The corner of his mouth twitches confidently as he moves his gaze back to me. Locking eyes, he begins to croon the first verse.
My breath slowly leaves me.
Ryder…can sing.
Like, he’s not bad. Almost Frank Sinatra-esque. And he actually knows the words. The melody rolls over me like a lover’s caress, giving me chills. The way he’s looking at me, the way his voice dips on certain notes, it feels like he’s singing to me. It’s thrilling and unnerving at the same time, considering we’re not exactly alone here. Everyone at the party has stopped what they’re doing and is now listening to our leader as he stands before me in a sexy Santa hat, singing with a voice that can only be described as pure seduction.
By the time he finishes the chorus, the entire patio has broken out in applause. Whistles and cheers distantly echo in my ears as my gaze remains interlocked with Ryder’s. It feels like I’m wearing earmuffs. Like there’s a disconnect between the two of us and the rest of the party. The growing lust radiating from his features is overpowering any arrogance from winning the challenge.
What other hidden talents has he been keeping from me?
Sonja holds up the shot she was saving for Ryder. “I guess this will have to wait for the next victim.”
“Not so fast there, Sonja,” Ryder cuts in before she can walk away. He pulls the Santa hat off his head and plops it onto mine. “I believe someone else here has a potty mouth.”
My group of friends laughs while everyone else cheers.
“‘Do You Hear What I Hear?’ Ms. Castellanos,” Ryder says happily. “Other than my victory, of course.”
I glower. He winks.
He damn well knows I hate that song. Don’t know why, just always have. I refuse to listen to it, so I’m sure has hell not going to sing it. I swipe the shot glass out of Sonja’s hand and down it.
At least it’s not Jägermeister.
Catcalls and a few disappointed awws follow the action. With the show now over, the party resumes as everyone gets back to their own conversations and games.
“You gonna be okay?” Ryder asks me sarcastically. “I know admitting defeat is a painful process for you.”
I snort. “It’s only defeat if both parties have agreed to compete. And I don’t play games I think I’ll lose.”
His eyes bore into me.
I mentally kick myself.
In a way, I’ve just admitted that he’s a game I think I could lose, seeing as how I’ve so vehemently insisted that I don’t play mind games at all. In other words, I’m not going to compete with him because I’m not a hundred percent sure that I’d win. I’ve just unwittingly tipped the scales in his favor, and I need to rectify it immediately.
I feel everyone’s eyes flicker back and forth between us while we face off in a heated staring contest. I probably should be annoyed by his attitude in front of my friends, and yet, I’m anything but. In fact, this is the most excited I’ve been all night.
I blame that excitement for what I do next.
Bringing my glass to my lips, I subtly lick along the rim, my tongue snaking out just enough to reveal a little something extra I slipped on for tonight’s festivities.
Ryder’s face goes slack.
The diamond barbell in the middle of my tongue winks at him with a tinny clinking noise against the glass. His gaze is glued to it, mouth hanging open, eyes drooping. My head is barely turned away from