Page 27 of Two Canes, One Cup
Is she playing some sort of game with us?
Although there’s a small part of me that is secretly ecstatic that she didn’t go in with him.
That means they aren’t a sealed deal.
Pouring myself a brandy, I sit and watch the flames flicker in the dark room.
Life is so different here than in the city. The pace is slow, coiling only around food and conversation.
I could see this on a beach somewhere, idly sitting in a lounge chair, watching the waves. Stacy between us as we chat away the hours.
She makes me feel seen. Not for the power and the money, but for who I am and what I really want.
It’s been ages since Reece and I have been able to talk freely about our youth.
I miss it. The wild times, the freedom.
Being able to pursue my dreams.
Now I’m bogged down by the responsibility of what I thought they were.
When the reality is, this is what I want.
A noise behind me startles me.
“Can I join you?” Her quiet voice sends a shiver of heat through me.
“Of course.” I gesture to her chair.
But she folds up next to me, brushing her knee against mine.
“Do you want your bed back?” she asks in a hushed tone.
My tongue runs over my teeth as I shake my head. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.”
The silence between us is punctuated by Reece’s snores from the back room.
“Want a drink?” I offer her my glass.
She takes it, sipping slowly. “You weren’t lying about the noise.” When she lowers the cup, she rests it on my thigh.
Her tongue drags over her lower lip leaving a glistening line of firelight reflection.
“You know you crushed him a little today.” I’ll always be loyal to him first.
Her soft exhale pours over my arm. “I didn’t want him getting the wrong idea.”
That makes me shift to face her, propping my elbow on the back, my leg presses hers. “What exactly is your end game here? If you’re trying to pit us against each other—”
Her wavy hair shakes and her nose wrinkles. “Never. My honest goal?” She blinks up at me, then raises her glass for another swallow. “I’ve always been the wallflower, watching from the sidelines. Butthis?” Her finger moves between us, then in a broader arc towards Reece. “This is something that never happens to me, like a fairy tale. I just want to lose myself for a few days, and at the end of Christmas we all go our separate ways.”
I barely resist brushing her auburn lock behind her ear. Instead, I tighten the grip on the backrest until the leather creaks. “Why? What if we want to see you again?”
Her lower lip pinches between her teeth in a starburst of white and pink. “I’m a nobody,” she whispers. “Boring. Right now? You make me feel special. I just want to take that with me.”
There’s a pinch in my chest.
How can she not see what I do?
