Page 59 of Snow Storm

“We set them up in a private dining suite,” Claude murmured, dragging Harley down to the sofa and pulling his legs onto his lap. “A couple of the servers trade off, and the rest of us sit down here for the evening. And if you don’t mind my saying so, you don’t count the same way they do. You’re mine.”

Harley shivered. “I can live with that.”

“Good. Because it’s kind of a ghost town around here come the holidays,” Claude told him, leaning back a little.

“Some years we don’t have anyone,” came a voice from behind, and Harley turned his head to see a man he vaguelyrecognized. He was tall, broad, with rough hands and a thick dark beard with grey streaks. “Then we get to get very drunk and sing Christmas carols as loud as we can.”

Claude rolled his eyes. “They do. I don’t sing.”

Harley smiled at him. “Don’t worry, neither do I. It’s one of my non-talents.”

Dropping to his knees, Charlie draped his arms over the back of the sofa and looked between the two of them. “So. This is a real thing?”

“This is a real thing,” Claude said. He picked up Harley’s hand and kissed his knuckles. It sent shivers down his spine. “Do not make him feel uncomfortable.”

“I just wanted to meet the man who thawed the Ice King’s heart,” Charlie said.

Claude scoffed, but Harley could see a tinge of actual pain in his face. It was fleeting, but it was there. “I wasn’t frozen. I just hadn’t found anyone worth my time until now.”

“And he got a real disaster out of it,” Harley said, trying to take the attention off me. “I’m still too afraid to see how viral my breakdown is.”

“Oh, honey.” That was Lyric’s voice. She appeared carrying a tray full of mugs and set it down on the low table near the fire. “It’ssoviral.”

“Wonderful,” he said dryly.

“I think you have more superfans than before though,” she added, snatching up two cups and walking them over. Harley took one, and Claude took the other. “People seriously fucking hate that Eric guy.”

“Ethan,” Harley corrected absently.

Lyric scoffed and rolled her eyes as she dropped to the floor beside the squashy ottoman and curled her knees toward her chest. “Who even cares what his name is. He’s the internet’s number one villain right now.”

“Even though I’m the one who punched him?”

Aminah laughed as she settled beside her wife. “I think you did what a lot of people wished they could when someone’s being that cruel to them.”

“Trust me, I have a lot of punching fantasies. They mostly involve my high school bullies,” Lyric said with a shrug. She leaned back against Aminah’s shoulder. “But yeah. I’ve been following the story, and pretty much everyone online except the trolls have talked about what a cinnamon roll you are.”

“Sounds tasty,” Claude murmured and stroked a touch up his arm.

“Uh, keep it to the bedroom,” Lyric ordered. “Even though that’s cute as fuck. Oh my God, we should take a pic of you two and post it!”

“Baby, no—” Aminah tried to protest on their behalf.

“If you like,” Claude said.

Harley froze. Did he know what he was signing up for by agreeing to that?

“Hear me out,” Lyric said, pulling away from Aminah and rising to her knees. She leaned toward Harley and Claude. “Your ex was a huge d-bag, right?”

Harley hunched into himself. “I suppose, yes.”

“T’es sérieux?Yousuppose? My darling, he is a monster,” Claude cut in, sounding almost angry.

Lyric grinned. “He’s being a dick on social media, especially since he knows you’re taking some time for yourself.”

“I haven’t looked,” Harley admitted.

Aminah leaned toward them. “Good. Don’t. He’s not worth the energy.”

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