Page 3 of Their Little Snow Angel
“It’s gonna be colder than Juliette’s heart.” He takes in my expression and sighs. “You really want to do this, though.”
I ignore the way he brought up our ex. I really don’t like thinking about her. Ever. She nearly tore apart Brody’s and my friendship on her way out of our lives. “Yes, I really do. I’m looking forward to photos and good food, and obsessing over keeping the fire going.”
“You’re in love with that fireplace.” He nods in mock seriousness. “You love that thing more than you ever loved Juliette.”
On that count, he’s absolutely right.
“So we’re going.” I point to his unpacked suitcase.
He grumbles under his breath, but grabs the suitcase and starts walking to his room to pack.
“Oh, and you’re driving,” I add.
He flips me off on his way down the hall.
Brody
I thought Heath was joking about me driving.
He was not joking. Heath rarely jokes. I should know this by now, after being his best friend for fifteen years.
Funny how he never tells jokes, but I’m always the punchline.
The winding road to Mason’s cabin is narrow and dark. No Christmas lights here, no cheer, no sign of civilization. The darkness is not ideal for winter conditions. Lucky for us, it isn’t snowing yet. Heath packed snowshoes, because I guess he’s a masochist as well as a sadist. Me, I’ll limit my photography to subjects I can view from the porch.
After four hours that feel more like ten hours, I navigate us down a long drive until Mason’s cabin comes into view.
The lights are on. Not only the interior lights, but cheerful Christmas lights strung along the deck that stretches from the front of the house to the hot tub in back.
I put the car in park but leave the engine idling. “Mason knows we’re coming?”
“Yeah.” Heath takes out his phone, holds up their text conversation. “He said the place is ready for us and everything.”
Someone passes in front of the curtained windows—a silhouette with an hour-glass figure and hair pulled up in a high ponytail.
“Did he get her ready for us?”
“Shit. He’s setting us up again. I change my mind. Turn around. I don’t want whatever drama he’s arranging.”
“Hahaha, nope.” I put the car in park. Heath can speak for himself. He might not want drama, but he needs it. I do, too. It’s been too long since Juliette fucked with our heads. “You wanted to come up to the mountains. You even made me drive, asshole. So now we’re here, and we’re going to see who Mason set us up with. You know he’ll have warned her about us. All the do you or don’t you like kinky sex with two guys bullshit has already been taken care of. Scene and protocol negotiations will be a piece of cake.”
“This is fucked. He shouldn’t have sprung this on us.”
“He absolutely should have. Wouldn’t have gotten you to agree to it if he’d asked first.” I turn off the ignition and unbuckle my seatbelt.
Heath throws his arm out, blocking me from leaving. “Were you in on this?”
I don’t even pretend to be hurt. This is the exact kind of shit I’d pull. “No. But I’m disappointed in myself that I didn’t think of it first.”
The comment puts a smile on his face and he punches me. “Fucking truest words to ever come out of your mouth.”
“Guilty.”
“I wonder where he found her. He doesn’t go to Low Vice anymore.”
Heath shrugs. “Maybe at the Laytons’ club?”
“Yeah, probably.”
