Check.
A Henley that subtly molds around his pecs?
Fucking check.
Dog tags that do double duty as a handle making Chance feral with lust?
Motherfucking check.
He shoots me a wink from where he’s leaning against the bar, all easy confidence, chatting with Everett’s Uncle Seth and—surprisingly—his own dad.
Chance had been back less than a week after the annual family Christmas trip when his dad called him up, asked him out for drinks, and dropped two bombshell apologies: first, for the colossal Noelle-shaped landmine he dropped last year, and second, for making Chance feel like marriage was the price of his approval.
Apparently, skeletons started sliding out of his father’s closet faster than a busted Jenga tower.
So many that I ended up picking them up—the boys, not the skeletons—because not only could they not drive, they were a tangle of hugs and half-slurred I love you, mans.
Neither of them remembers that part.Supposedly.
I call bullshit.
“Not bad work for just a year. You did good,” Everett says, sliding a hot chocolate with Bailey’s across the counter like it’s a peace offering.
“That’s all them.” I lean on the counter and give him a pointed look. “Besides, I’m not the one up to the mistletoe fuckery. Decide to take the year off?”
“You knew?”
“Not until a few days ago when I spotted you trying to execute a sneak attack on your Uncle Seth.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. Your mom was a good sport about it, though.”
Of course, she was. She totally used it to get my dad to up his game. What game? I don’t want to know. It’s bad enough I recognize the smiles and the exhausted content.
Everett rolls his eyes. "You two were exhausting. I've never worked so hard at matchmaking in my life."
"You know..." I stir my drink and watch him, looking for all the little clues. “You seem to be good at seeing what people need."
He winks. "It's a gift.".
"But who takes care of what you need?"
The smile that naturally lights his eyes slips, but before I can go there, my phone buzzes, Eve's message lighting up the screen like a red alert:
EVE
Alright, team. The parents are three drinks in and talking about playing Never Have I Ever
ME
Oh no
CHARLIE
Oh yes
NICK
Absolutely not. Shut it down.
