"No way." Everett's eyes widen. "Little Holly?” He lets out another whistle. "Damn. Time has been very, very kind."
A growl builds in my chest. "Watch it."
Nick and Everett’s heads turn to me in tandem.
Shit.
"Something you want to share?" Nick's voice carries that edge again.
"Just looking out for your sister." I force a casual shrug. "Like I said—eyes on the ground."
"Speaking of looking out for her—" Everett grins, clearly enjoying the tension. "Remember that time Holly tried to find our clubhouse? Made it halfway up the back trail before you two noticed she was following you?"
The memory hits and the whiskey turns rancid on my tongue. Holly, maybe twelve, determination written all over her face as she tried to keep up. Snow clinging to her red mittens, eyes bright with hope until we crushed it.
God, we were such assholes.
"She got her revenge though." Nick chuckles. "What was it—salt in our canteens?"
"Ghost peppers," I correct, phantom heat burning my tongue. "And that was just the beginning."
The taste burned into my memory alone makes me reach for my water. "We probably deserved worse."
"Probably?" Nick snorts. "We definitely deserved worse. She cried for days after that."
My chest tightens. "Yeah, well, we were idiots."
"Were?" Everett smirks.
My phone buzzes with a text from my contact at the airport—Holly's luggage is en route with a buddy of mine. At least something's going right today.
"Rest up—" Everett's grin turns wicked. "Mistletoe can be a demanding bitch."
“She can demand all she wants, it’s not happening." I toss some bills on the bar. "Once was enough."
"Sure it was." Nick's tone carries enough bite to strip paint.
I flip them both off without looking back, but Everett's laughter follows me out.
One look at my room key tells me they got us in their family wing. Basically a cluster of rooms all of the same hallway. I get the sentiment, but fuck, there really is no escape.
The main lodge empties out, most guests getting in their last runs before the sun goes down, taking with it about twenty degrees.
Holly’s dad and his 24/7 ass kisser bragged about a dinner meeting in town earlier, effectively killing our tradition of having a big family dinner we usually have the first night.
Works for me.
The silence in my room, one I’ve stayed in many times before, is only broken only by the soft whisper of snow against the window.
The bed's exactly where it was twenty years ago when Nick and I used to sneak down to raid the kitchen after lights out.
Holly caught us most of the time, naming the price of her silence. The bargain basement price of bringing her back a cookie.
We always did. Even when we were being assholes about everything else, we couldn't resist that face.
Just like I couldn't resist her kiss today.
My phone buzzes, thank fuck, yanking me from the memory.
