Page 22 of Never Sleigh Never
True to his word, Simon keeps the refills coming. Two rounds in, my glass never hits empty. I roll the glass on the round base, staring as the amber liquid swirls around. I came to Mount Holly for a change. Maybe I’ll do something about it.
“Screw it,” I say, rolling the glass between my palms. “Buy the bar a round on me. We’re celebrating.” I throw back the last drop of my drink and swallow it down.
The bar erupts in cheers.
Simon chuckles. “Celebrating what?”
“New beginnings.” I push my empty glass toward him.
He pours three fingers of scotch into my glass before pouring himself water. He holds up his glass. “To new beginnings.”
We tap our drinks on the bar top before I take a sip. Over the next hour, people send drinks back my way in thanks—beer here, a shot there. Now I’m anchored to the stool with my elbows propped on the bar, pretending it’s the floor swaying and not me.
Her sweet laughter fills the bar before I see her. Slowly, I glance over my shoulder. With one eye closed, the silhouettes of Brie, Willa, and Sloane manifest as they stroll through the door. I track them as they land at a high-top table on the opposite side of the bar. As she sits, her gaze lifts in my direction. Our eyes meet. A tingle races through me. She looks away first—not away, but just past me, and the corner of her lips lift into a smile.
“If you crane your neck any farther, you’re going to fall off that stool,”
Busted. So much for being discreet. I spin around, and Simon lifts his brows, a wide grin on his face.
Wait? Was she checking out Simon? No, that’s not possible. Well, it is possible, but she’s not his type. At least, not the type he liked in high school. He was more into leggy redheads, much like Sloane. I shove the thought of Simon and Brie together out of my head.
“You know what surprises me the most?” I take a sip of my scotch.
“What’s that?”
“When did Brie become such a firecracker?” She’s someone you can’t forget, but somehow, I forgot her.
“You left,” he says, chuckling. “She didn’t. But she always had a little sass.”
“Yeah, she certainly does like to sass me.”
“The older we get, the less we care what other people think of us. We just do our thing.”
“Was I a jerk to her in high school?”
He shrugs. “Shit. I don’t know. Maybe a little. You mostly ignored her. Does it matter now? If you really want an answer, you could always ask her.”
“She’s better at giving me death glares than dialogue. I’m pretty sure she’s hoping I spontaneously combust or something.”
“She’d be first in line with marshmallows, passing out roasting sticks.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” She hated me first, so it was only natural for me to hate her back. Then why do we always find ourselves running into each other? Sure, Mount Holly is small, but the next town isn’t too far away. She could go to the bar there. The bar run-ins aside, the real question is why does my dick twitch every time she’s near? And why do I want to feel her soft, pillowy lips against mine? Does she taste as sweet as she smells? Why can’t I stop picturing what she looks like wearing that red lace underwear? Most importantly, why do I want to rip them off her body with my teeth? Some things are just unexplainable. Like Bigfoot. Damn. I hope she’s not hairy like Bigfoot. I spare a glance her way again. Nah. Her skin looks silky smooth. No excess hair in sight. Her lips curve into a smile as she laughs at something Willa says. Images of her pink lips wrapped around the head of my dick flash before me. Fuck. I peel my gaze away. If I can’t stop thinking about her on my own, I’ll drink her out of my system. Said no one ever.
“Simon?” I tap the bar lightly. “Give me another.”
Nine
Snowflake
Brie
Willa called for a girls’ night, so we met at the Deer. After my embarrassing encounter with Logan, I could use a drink. Or two. Or five.
As we step inside, I’m giving Sloane the highlight reel—how I accidentally tackled a row of pines and now my house smells like a car freshener. From the corner of my eye, I immediately spot Logan. The Santa hat is traded for a chiseled jawline. My gaze lingers longer than what’s considered appropriate. At our table, I shrug out of my coat and hang it over the back of my chair. I spare another glance at the bar, and Logan’s still watching me. His eyes are gentle. This time I can’t turn away. I don’t know what he does to me, but it’s so easy to get lost in his hazel irises. Then I noticed Simon next to him, staring at me. I twist, pulling out my chair, and when Simon’s gaze doesn’t waver, I know he’s not staring at me. His focus is firmly on Sloane. Happiness blooms in my stomach and a grin covers my face. I think someone has a crush.
“Maybe you should get the first round of drinks tonight,” I say to Sloane as I take a seat.
“Or Willa can,” Sloane replies.
