Page 11 of Better Not Pout
The words cause a sting of hot tears to prick behind my eyes and emotion to swell beneath my chest.
My grandparents might think they’re the lucky ones, but I’m the one who’s lucky. Lucky to be surrounded by family who have always pushed me to follow my dreams. Those dreams just have always been here, withthem. At Sweet Sullivan’s. This place is our family’s legacy, and being a part of it means everything to me. I don’t work here out of obligation, but out of love.
Because there’s truly nowhere else I’d rather be.
“You know what I think?”
Turning my head, I glance over at Kennedy, my brow arched as we walk down Main Street.
Although I know exactly what she’s going to say before she even says it.
“I think that for someone who claims to dislike her new neighbor, after only meeting him a couple of times in passing, you sure do talk about hima lot.” Her blonde brows wiggle. “I think you actually want to bang him, Rosalie. All up and down that bar. And you’re just pretending that he’s sooo awful so you don’t have to admit it. That’s exactly why you’re being so harsh on him.”
My mouth falls open, and I reach out, pushing her shoulder, nearly tripping along the sidewalk in the process. “I do not.”
“Admit it, you think he is so hot, and you want him.”
I scoff. “I’d rather bang Trader Joe’s Santa than that guy, Kennedy.”
Okay, that is actually a lie, but then again, I don’t need her to know that despite the fact that he is absolutely a grumpy dick, who may also be a mail thief, I am unbearably attracted to him.
It feels like possibly the universe’s biggest joke.
That somehow, this man seems to have walked off the pages of my wish list, right into the building next door, and he’s infuriating. And oh, did I mention… a dick.
This entire situation makes me feel slightly off-kilter and entirely not like myself. I’m usually levelheaded and pragmatic, but the second that he enters the conversation or, heaven forbid, the room… it’s like my brain just shuts off, and I’m driving in the dark.
“You’re being ridiculous, Rosalie,” Kennedy says as I literally tell myself the same thing internally. “He’s probably just giving you the same energy you’ve been giving him, and honestly, to be fair, you did accuse him of stealing from you.”
I halt on the sidewalk and turn to face her. “I’m regretting telling you that.”
She shrugs, and the dimples in her cheeks pop as she grins. “It’s my duty as your best friend to tell you exactly like it is. I’m just saying, maybe give him a chance. Everyone else seems to love him but you. Not sure I’m convinced thathe’sthe problem.”
“Well, good thing you don’t need to be convinced at all.” I glare at her. “Now, can we please go eat because I’m so hungry I’m going to pass out.”
“Way to deflect. You know, I bet if you ask him, he’d probably put a Santa hat on his dick too. Look—the best of both worlds.”
five
. . .
Wells
Saved By the Grump
Everythingin this damn town is decked out in Christmas, and it’s only been December for about five whole minutes.
I’m not anti-Christmas. I don’t… hate it. I mean, what kind of guy would I be if I hated the happiest holiday in the world?
I’m just impartial. Really impartial.
The last ten years of my life have been spent playing professional hockey, and Christmas represents one of the two days that the NHL gave us off during the season.
Now, it’s just a staunch reminder that I no longer have a career to return to. There will be no getting on a plane after Boxing Day to head to the next game.
I’ll be here in Mistletoe Falls while my friends and teammates are heading back out to fight for a chance to take home the Stanley Cup.
It still feels like I should be there, even though this is the second year that I won’t be.
