Page 18 of My Ex for Christmas
I sit down on the love seat, needing to take a minute when my head rushes with another bout of dizziness. Leaning back against the cushions, I read his next message.
Brooks
Sorry you’re having a bad day.
Not your fault. That honour belongs to my immune system.
Brooks
Need me to bring you dinner?
Despite my earlier thoughts about not needing food, part of me wants to see him. I know I probably shouldn’t, but admittedly, I miss this ease between us. This comforting familiarity.
Yes, please.
Brooks
I’ll be there in an hour.
Grabbing the blanket draped over the back of the love seat, I settle it over my lap and curl up against the cushions, closing my eyes. And for the first time in what seems like forever, I feel content.
CHAPTER 7
HADLEY
The doorto Dirty Dick’s slams closed behind me, shutting out the frigid December air. I stomp toward the bar, earning looks from the handful of people scattered about the place. They seem like regulars of this fine establishment, given the fact they’re closing it down on a random Monday night.
Dropping onto a stool, I unwind my scarf and toss it beside me, followed by my coat.
“Doors are closing in five!” Brooks shouts from somewhere in the back. “You missed last call.”
I groan. “Of fucking course I did.”
Brooks appears then, pushing the sleeves of his flannel up to expose his forearms, and that action alone has me staring. I wipe at the corner of my mouth, a little afraid I might be drooling. Clearly, this dry spell I’m in has been rotting my brain.
When he spots me, his brows furrow. “Hadley?”
“The one and only.”
I haven’t seen him since he insisted on playing nurse when I was sick the other day, but Ihavebeen on the receiving end of his texts. It’s been surprisingly easy to keep a conversation with him, making up for lost time.
Brooks braces a hand on the bar, leaning close to me. I noticehe does that a lot, and it makes me wonder if it’s because of me or if it’s become a habit from chatting up strangers while he makes their drinks.
“What are you doing here?” he asks. “Not that I’m unhappy to see you.” He grins. “But I figured you wouldn’t be back after the first time.”
Grimacing, I take one of those square napkins off the bar and start tearing the corners off. “I wasn’t planning on it. But today was a rough day, lots to do, and I just couldn’t take being at the resort anymore.” I shrug. “I didn’t know where else to go.”
In a town the size of Sugar Peak, there is no place to go.
And aside from that, my revelation from before our kiss a couple weeks ago keeps ringing true. Even more so after the past few days. It’s been a long eight years without Brooks in my life, but now that he’s back, now that we’re both here in this town, I don’t want to push him away.
I already tried that, and itsucks.
When I look up from my pile of napkin confetti, I catch him studying me intently. I feel unnerved under his gaze, like I did that first night.
When he takes his eyes off me, I let go of the breath I was holding. But my relief is short-lived. Brooks reaches beneath the bar and produces two shot glasses. He sets them on the counter and then turns, reaching for a bottle from the shelves of liquor. I groan when he turns back around.
My eyes raise to his. “Really?” I ask. “Fireball?”
