Page 10 of Never Sleigh Never
“I’m sure everyone will be excited to see you.”
I give her a tight-lipped smile and nod. Seeing all my old friends will be great. Another run-in with Brie… that’s still up for debate. I wrap my arms around her shoulders. “Thanks again for watching Josie.”
“It’s no trouble at all.”
The cold air hits me as soon as I open the door. I jam my hands in my pockets as I stride to my truck. I let it idle for a few minutes before reversing out of the driveway. Rows and rows of houses pass by. Some already don decorations for Christmas while others remain naked. Surely after Thanksgiving, the rest of the neighborhood will hop on the holiday bandwagon. As I approach my house, instead of braking, I step on the gas. The night’s still young. One drink at the Crooked Reindeer won’t kill me. My old high school friend Simon owns the place, so it will be good to reminisce with some familiar faces. Also, perhaps it’s better if I avoid falling asleep with Brie as my last thought.
Four
First Meat
Brie
The Crooked Reindeer—“the Deer” to the locals, is bustling tonight. But it always is when it’s meat raffle night. The town could be under a blizzard warning, and no one would stay home for fear of missing a chance to win ten pounds of bratwurst. The chatter from the crowd overpowers the music playing on the jukebox. Luckily, everyone in town has been too preoccupied with tonight’s festivities to gossip about the news of Logan’s return. Unfortunately, it’s still engrained in my brain.
Sloane snagged us a table before Willa and I got off work, which is the only reason we’re not next to the bathrooms. I’ve known Willa since we were in diapers and eating dirt. Sloane’s the adopted local. She didn’t grow up in Mount Holly, but she moved here eight years ago and opened up her coffee shop. Instantly, we vibed well together, and she has joined our tight-knit group of friends. Plus, her coffee shop/bakery sells muffins to Willa’s diner along with her freshly roasted coffee beans. And I pimp them both equally on the Mount Holly tourism board.
With an elbow on the table, I lean in and offer Sloane and Willa a brief recap of my run-in with Logan earlier today. I reiterated there was no kiss between us before I ramble on about his carnival.
“He has a prime location. Right next to Reindeer Ridge. All he needs to do is flash his dimpled smile and everyone in town will flock across the street. Granted, it’s an empty field right now, but there were so many trucks.” I tap my chin. “I wonder what he has planned. But being the week of Thanksgiving, he has a lot of work ahead of him to create something out of nothing.”
“It’s Logan,” Willa says. “He’ll get it done.”
I glare at her. “Whose side are you on?”
“Yours, obviously. But remember senior year? He rallied our entire class in two days to stick googly eyes on everything for the senior prank. The school is probably still being watched by a thousand tiny plastic pupils.”
I try not to smile and fail. “The googly eyes on the T-Rex poster in Mr. Schmitt’s science class were pretty funny.”
Willa giggles. “It was. Which proves when Logan gets an idea, he puts it into action.”
Sadly, it wasn’t the only time. During the state hockey tournament, he got the entire Mount Holly fan section to hold up a designated sign that spelled out Go Warriors. I hate how he makes all of it seem so effortless.
Sloane sips her drink. “My school banned pranks after someone set off industrial fart spray. We evacuated. Twice.”
“I’ll take googly eyes over chemical warfare,” Willa says.
“Pranks aside, with how much gossip spreads around here, why didn’t anyone tell me Logan was moving back to Mount Holly? Surely someone knew.” I glance around the full bar. The Gigis know everything, but they’ve been tight-lipped about his return.
“I believe I mentioned it.” Willa raises a finger.
My gaze shoots to her. “I would remember if you told me Logan Crawford was coming back to town. That’s not something one forgets.”
“I mentioned Logan Crawford bought a house in town, and you glossed right over it. I assumed you didn’t care.” Willa shrugs. A second later, her eyes light up. “Oh! There’s a good chance it was during margarita night.”
“What the hell?” I scrub my hands down my face. The conversation is a blur, but the name Crawford is the only thing I can recall. “I just assumed it was his parents who were moving, not their son. This is why we can’t share important information during margarita night.”
“I assumed since you didn’t dwell on it, you were over it,” Willa says.
“You don’t get over something like Logan fucking Crawford. What is he doing here, anyway? He could host a carnival anywhere. Why here? Mount Holly’s been a much happier place since he’s been gone.” I point to the window. “See, it’s cloudy and gloomy outside all because he’s here.”
“Um. No, that’s weather,” Willa says.
“And it’s dark outside,” Sloane adds. “Why are you so worked up about this?”
My molars grind together as a scream creeps up the back of my throat. “Because Logan fucking Crawford is back in my little bubble, and he’s ruining my happy place.”
Sloane’s brows pinch together. “Why do you hate this guy so much? Didn’t all this happen years ago?”
