Puck The Halls | Jack Hughes

THIRTEEN

MIRACLE
______________

I WAS REELING BY THE TIME I GOT TO THE HUGHES RESIDENCE, fully making an effort to go home first and change outfits. I definitely wasn't about to turn up to Jack's party in my work jeans when he had a girl with him. No way.

And so, I wore a red dress that fit my body, maybe a little too well, and glittered under the light. Fitting for the holidays, much to my dismay, but it was a cute dress, and I knew Jack would hate it, because it would get me attention. Male attention.

My hair was down in big loose curls over my shoulders and my feet were shoved into a pair of black stilettos that made my legs look ten times better than usual.

I powered my face and added a layer of lip gloss and I was good to go, and evidently on the receiving end of a few strange looks from my parents as I left the house, only to walk next door.

The sound of deep house music filled my ears the moment I walked in the door, and I immediately spotted my group of friends—and my brother—huddled in a circle by the kitchen entryway. Jack was pulling a beer from the fridge, a smile on his face as he made his way back to the group. I almost felt confident for a moment, not being able to see Monica on the crowd of people, but then she appeared out of nowhere, her smile an equal match to Jack's.

Feeling an emotion similar to jealousy bubble in the pit of my stomach, I walked up to my group of people with as much confidence as I could muster, plastering a sweet smile on my lips.

Trevor saw me first, his face turning sour at the sight of me.

"Oh, hey sis," he mused, raising a single eyebrow. "How was your shift at the strip club?"

I knew he was commenting on my outfit of choice, and the amount of skin I was showing, but I didn't care.

"It was great," I grinned. I looked over his basic polo and chinos combo. "The yacht club finally kick you out?"

Jemma rolled her eyes. "You two are definitely related."

"Unfortunately," I sighed, my eyes locking on hers, completely skimming past Jack like he wasn't there. I could feel his eyes burning into my skin. "How are you?"

"A little tipsy," she admitted, shrugging. "Not nearly as drunk as I should be."

"Same," I breathed with a small laugh, my gaze accidentally flickering to the blue eyes still staring at me. I moved past him quickly. "Wanna get drinks?"

"I have beers in the fridge," Jack spoke up, his voice deep, ripping through my chest and reminding me that I was dressed like this for him, that I was here for him, but not in the way he'd think.

I started right at him, raising a single eyebrow, he raised one right back, challenging me.

"You want one?" He asks, tone short, bitter.

I shrug. "Sure."

He nods, once again avoiding my gaze, and I know it's because he's trying not to let his eyes wander. I tell the group I'll be back, before slinking through the gap between Monica and Jack.

"Hey, Monica," I grin, before turning back to the brunette boy, giving him a suggestive look by blinking up at him through my lashes, then slipping past them and walking causally to the fridge, my hips swaying naturally from the height of my heels.

Jack was still glaring at me, I knew he was, and so I milked this shit for all it was worth, bending over as I searched for the beers, knowing my dress barely covered anything like this.

He was at my side in seconds, his frame slightly behind me, his thigh touching the back of my leg, his skin warm, even through his jeans. He leaned over my body, his arms blocking me from moving by placing one on the fridge door, the other on the bench beside him.