Page 91 of Love Under Snowfall

“Yeah, about that . . .” Ok, maybe playing dumb wasn’t the best plan. He could practically feel the dirt accumulate under his nails as he dug his hole deeper.

“I don’t know how you survived being alone with her without either of you murdering the other,” he said with a chuckle. The glitter returned to his amber eyes, warm andhumorously empathetic. “From the looks of your initial meeting at the welcome dinner—well, I guess it wasn’t the first time you’d met, was it, Professor Prick?”

The corner of Benjamin’s mouth ticked up, and he let out a snort. He deserved worse than that nickname.

Then and now.

“Anyway, you never did find yourself in her good graces, did you?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” the husky murmur was out of his mouth before he could stop it.

“Meaning?” The warning in Johnny’s voice was unmistakable, and Benjamin had to tread lightly if he hoped to mend things with Francesca while also keeping his friend’s head level.

“There’s a little more to it than what you’ve witnessed.”

“Again, I say: meaning?” Beer and sandwich abandoned, the man who’d been like a brother sat leaning back, arms crossed, gaze sharp and calculating.

Benjamin’s assumption had been accurate: Francesca had remained tight-lipped about their affair. Did that comfort him? Or did it worry him that she’d gone through considerable efforts to move past the encounters, perhaps even going so far as to pretend nothing happened? Regardless, she would most likely be quite upset once she learned he confided in her brother that they’d had sex. And yet it had to be done. He was done closing himself off from those he respected and cared about. Life’s too short and true friends don’t come along easily.

“Francesca and I . . .” How exactly was he supposed to explain what they’d shared together? They’d had sex, yes, but it wasn’t purely physical. She’d overwhelmed him. Seeped into his bloodstream and after making the unilateral decision to go cold turkey, he went through withdrawals. He was still going throughthem. So much so that he’d turned his life completely upside down and forged a new path. One that she’d hopefully be proud of. He hadn’t done it all for her, but she was absolutely in the back of his mind the entire time. Benjamin held his friend’s heavy stare, one that waited patiently while also measuring. “We were intimate.”

Johnny’s amber eyes dimmed, losing their usual friendly glimmer. “Intimate how?”

“We had sex at the cabin and then again the night of your wedding.”

A swirling storm of sand and lightning cracked in his friend’s narrowed gaze. He said nothing, only stood, pulled a hundred out of his wallet, and slid it under his barely touched plate of food. Footsteps landed heavy on the wood floor as he strode from the table.

Benjamin hung his head. He’d really made a massive mess of this whole thing. First with Frankie and now with his best friend. How could he be so careless?

“You coming?” The gruff call came from the tavern exit.

Benjamin slid off his seat and followed Johnny down the rickety stairs and into the parking lot.

“Look, Johnny, I know I messed up but that’s why I’m here—Oof!” The collision of a massive fist on his jaw caught him off guard. Stumbling, he landed on his knees. He heard birds chirping overhead and hoped he wasn’t imagining the cartoon version of them flying around his head, though after a solid blow like the one his friend just delivered, he wouldn’t be surprised. Squinting into the high noon sunlight, he shook off the haze of the hit. The large man loomed over him, stepping slightly to the right to block out the sun. Benjamin prepared for another blow—he deserved it after all—but one never came. Cracking an eye to take stock, he flinched at the open hand hovering inches from his face.

“Get up.” The growl was unnatural coming from such a gentle guy. He’d hurt his friend and his friend’s sister. He deserved what he got and he wouldn’t fight back.

“I might as well stay down here.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Johnny stalked around behind him and scooped both arms under Benjamin’s armpits, hauling him to his feet. “I’m done.”

Benjamin rubbed his jaw. The lumberjack threw one hell of a punch, there’s no way there wouldn’t be a mark. Despite his better judgment, he chuckled as Johnny shook out the hand that had done the clubbing. “What? Did you break your hand on my face?”

“No.” Cramming both hands in his pockets, Johnny shrugged sheepishly. “I thought it would make me feel better. Then I thought of what my father would have said if he knew I punched someone.”

“Way to go, slugger?”

He snorted. “More like ‘cut that alpha shit out, son, you’re a grown-ass man.’ And then he’d probably mutter all day about his man-child of a son having a tantrum. It’d be a whole thing.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t show up for his funeral.” Benjamin hung his head.

“It’s all right.”

“And then again for Cynthia’s.” God, he was a horrible friend.

The same large hand that did the hitting settled on his shoulder. “I’m sure you had your own shit going on. Plus, I know if I had asked you outright, you would have come flying over the pass in an instant.”

“It shouldn’t take you asking, though. And I’m sorry.”

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