I spot Everett across the room, carefully not looking at me.
He's got a drink in his hand and a thousand-yard stare that suggests he's reconsidering every life choice that led him to this moment.
Roman claps him on the shoulder, says something that makes Everett's eye twitch, and moves on to terrorize someone else.
Across the crowded room, through the noise and the chaos and the complete absurdity of this entire night, Everett's eyes finally find mine.
One look.
One second.
Everything we can't say thrums between us.
Then Holly grabs my arm and drags me toward the bar, and the moment breaks.
“There you are! Okay, you have to see this. Someone edited the 'Mount Me Everett' footage into a music video. It already has fifty thousand views.”
“Fantastic,” I manage. “Just... fantastic.”
“Are you okay? You look flushed.”
“Cold air.” I grab someone's abandoned drink and take a long swallow. “It's freezing out there.”
Holly’s eyebrows shoot up under her bangs and she gives me a look that says she doesn't entirely believe me, but she's too excited about the viral chaos to push.
I let her pull me into the crowd, into the noise, into the safety of being just another body in the celebration.
But I can still feel Everett's eyes on me.
I can still taste him on my lips.
And I know, with the certainty of someone who's been here before, that this is only the beginning.
We're going to crash and burn.
We're going to take everyone we love down with us.
And I'm starting to wonder if maybe—just maybe—it might be worth it.
Chapter Sixteen
Everett
The first ruleof bartending is simple: never let them see you sweat. Cliche, but no less true.Doesn't matter if the ticket printer is screaming, the ice machine just died, and someone's asking for a drink that doesn't exist. You smile. You pour. You keep the show running.
I've been applying that rule to my entire life for the past twelve hours.
The morning sun cuts through the great room windows like it's auditioning for a tourism commercial. Outside, the lawn is already buzzing with festival prep. Inside, I'm on my third cup of coffee, running on four hours of sleep and the lingering ghost of Sierra's mouth under mine.
Focus.
You have a lodge to save.
A festival to run so it doesn’t run you like it did lastnight.
A family legacy that's currently trending as #MountainDaddyTour.
EVERETT
