Page 123 of Running Winter

I couldn’t even pretend anymore, and this girl was trying my patience.

Then my attention was caught by a wave of platinum curls and a smile that had the power to light up the room.

Heather.

My heart skipped a beat, and I watched as she laughed at something the guy beside her said before he placed his hand on the small of her back.

It was intimate.

They were intimate.

What could I say?

Chase caught my eye and turned to follow my gaze.

"No fucking way," he breathed, as Rayna quickly caught on, distracting Marianna with a trip to the restrooms.

The insane curves.

The way she carried herself, her laughter soothing my frayed senses. She wore a little black dress, showcasing endless legs in strappy sandals that held her perfect fucking feet.

"Well, this is going to be fun," Chase declared, ordering more drinks.

He leaned back against the bar as we both studied her.

"Seriously, Fallon. Of all the places in the world—" I muttered as Heather approached the bar.

The guy with her watched her walk over, but he soon turned back to the group of friends.

"Hi!" Heather smiled brightly at the lucky bartender as she gazed at the cocktail list with intense concentration.

I studied her mouth as she gnawed on the inside of her cheek before Chase tapped her on the arm softly.

Heather looked up with surprise before a flicker of recognition passed over her beautiful face. Instantly she looked for me, and when her eyes met mine, she scowled.

The hatred. The anger.

No, no, no. We can't be enemies now.

"Hi, Chase." Heather smiled as Marianna and Rayna returned. She glanced over at the two of them, smiling faintly before returning her attention to the bartender. "Could I get a slow, comfortable screw and a beer?"

The bartender said something, and she laughed, throwing her head back with ease. I couldn't speak, but I had to do something.

But what?

HOMETIME

R A F E

"I hope you mentioned that you like it up against the wall," I breathed into Heather’s ear, my arms on either side of her on the bar.

"Rafe Deacon, well, well. Still, as cocky as ever I see. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm busy,” Heather snapped, going to push past me.

"Heather," I said softly, hoping my voice would be enough to convince her to turn around. "Don't be like this, please."

"The way I am being, Rafe, is the way you made me. This is called a reaction."

With that, she pushed past me.

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