“I’m good,” she said with a shrug. “I don’t need it.”
Jack only nodded, and Elliott looked over at me, giving me a small, knowing smile.
I used to drink too much—we both knew it. Things got worse after Michael.
I still drank sometimes, to Elliott’s quiet dismay, but it wasn’t a crisis anymore.
Jack topped off his own glass, then offered the bottle to Elliott, who leaned forward to pour.
“Cheers to surviving the snow,” Jack said, lifting his glass.
“To overpriced cabins and heated floors,” Elliott added.
“To friends not seen nearly enough,” Hana said, clinking her mug against mine.
We all drank—two of us whiskey, two of us tea—and we all talked amongst ourselves. Jack was telling a story about a gig in Berlin—how the power went out mid-song and the crowd kept singing anyway, phones lit like a sea of stars. I wasn’t really listening to the details. Mostly, I was watching him.
He had an easy charisma and charm—casual, confident, just a little too good-looking for his own good. Wavy, dirty blonde hair that didn’t need any help, blue eyes that always looked like he was up to no good, full lips and disarming dimples.
And then there was the accent—smooth, low, English. What was it about accents that made us American women swoon? He called Hanasweetheart, andlove, sometimes in the same sentence.
I’d always noticed him. Not in awant himway, just like in ayeah, of course you’re hotway. Entirely observational. I was a people-watcher by default.
Jack looked over at me mid-sentence, something playful sparking in his eyes.
“You would’ve hated it, love. Rain, ankle-deep mud, no real bathrooms.”
I smirked. “Sounds like my nightmare.”
“Exactly.” He raised his eyebrows playfully. “You strike me as the type who needs proper floors and flushable toilets.”
“Absolutely. I came into this world with standards,” I quipped back easily.
He gave me a quick smirk and turned back to Elliott. “She’s got good taste, your one.”
Elliott raised his glass. “I’d have to agree with that,” he said, his voice already carrying that slight shift it always did when he drank, something that didn’t happen too often these days.
I felt Hana shift beside me, her thigh brushing mine under the blanket we were now sharing.
“She’s more adaptable than she lets on,” she said lightly, but there was something behind it too.
I glanced at her. She was already watching me with a small smile.
Just like that, the conversation moved on. Jack was asking Elliott about what he was listening to lately, Hana tossing in a sarcastic comment that made Jack roll his eyes playfully. But something in the room had tilted.
Not in a bad way. Not even in a weird way.
Just…something.
* * *
It was well past two before we all said goodnight.
I changed into pajamas, brushed my teeth alongside Elliott, and gave him a quick kiss before I headed into the kitchen for water.
The cabin was dark except for a small lamp glowing from the living room. I told myself I was just getting water, but I paused when I passed Hana and Jack’s door.
It wasn’t closed all the way.
