Page 55 of Wintertime Heat (Holiday 1)

Scarlett was pleased to see me.

She threw her arms around me and dragged me into the room, “I have so much to tell you!”

However, when Steven follows me in, accompanied by Aaron, she blinks wildly, “Uh, hello.”

I wince, “I’m sorry. I should have called ahead.”

“No, no.” She waves off my excuses and studies Steven, “So, you’re Steven Tanner.”

She makes a small sound of dissent, “You’re prettier on the magazine.”

I clasp my hand over my friend’s mouth, and ask, brightly, “Who wants some coffee?”

Steven doesn’t seem to be ready to leave, “I’ll take it.”

As I drag Scarlett into the kitchen, his gaze meets mine, “Your apartment is very you.” he says with a quiet smile.

I am unsure what to make of his comment, as I see him lift up a pillow which had a multitude of coloured patches sewn together as the cover.

“What?” Scarlett hisses when I close the door behind me.

“Do you have to be so rude to him?” I make a face at her.

She gives me a repentant smile, “Sorry. I’m still upset about what happened with Travis.”

I had had a few days of Steven showering me with constant attention to forget about Travis, and when his name is mentioned, my blood boils.

“Tell me he didn’t call you.”

“I called him,” Scarlett informs me, heat in her eyes. “He won’t be bothering you again.”

I shrug, not wanting to pursue the topic more, and I pull out some cups from the shelf, preparing coffee and hot chocolate.

Scarlett seats herself on the counter, “So?”

“So, what?”

Scarlett nudges me with her bare feet, “You’re so much more relaxed. Does that mean you slept with Steven?”

I pour the coffee in the cup, saying lightly, “I don’t kiss and tell.”

“That’s not fair!”

I grin at her, “I’ll tell you later. So, how did your date with Collin go?”

When she blushes, something so unlike her, I laugh and carry out the tray.

Steven must have heard me laughing because he looks up when I enter the room.

“Here,” I hand Aaron a steaming cup of hot chocolate. “Be careful not to burn your tongue.”

The mugs are distributed, and everyone chooses a seat.

“So, Steven,” Scarlett began, eyeing him. “What exactly are your intentions with my Abby?”

I groan, “Oh, God. Not this again.”

“What?” Scarlett protests. “I want to know. It’s my job to protect you!”

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