When I hit the living room, Adrian was still laid out on the couch, head tilted toward the ceiling, with one leg stretched out and one arm dangling dramatically, looking like a decorative liability who had overstayed his welcome.
I didn’t break stride. I just raised an eyebrow and kept walking toward the recliner.
“You ain’t gon’ fix my plate?” he had the audacity to ask.
I turned, slow as molasses, with my eyes narrowed on him like a laser beam, and said, “No. Niggas who lie can walk to the pot just fine. I only serve truth-tellers and trauma victims, not part-time carpenters with full-time delusions. Next time, lead with the truth… and maybe your legs won’t lock up trying to keep up with your lies.”
I took my seat, tossed my blanket over me, and blew gently on my spoonful like the man behind me didn’t exist, hadn’t spoken, and wasn’t currently experiencing the consequences of his own foolishness. Real peace tastes hot and well-seasoned.
Adrian’s mouth opened, then shut. Realizing that I wasstandingon business, he stood up slow, limped a little for sympathy—real dramatic with it too—then made his quiet, defeated journey into the kitchen like a man heading toward his last rites.
I glanced around the living room, spoon paused mid-air, suddenly noticing that Bryce had been MIA for some time. He’d already told me we were good on everything, so I knew he wasn’t still running around trying to beCaptain Snowpocalypsewith a clipboard and a checklist. Maybe he just needed a minute to himself to mentally recover from the chaos of the trip or the lies and the audacity wrapped in one grown man.
Honestly, I couldn’t blame him.
A few minutes later, I texted Klarissa.
Klarissa:Hey, boo! How’s it going? I’m just checking in. Y’all snowed in yet????? Please tell me nobody is dead!
Me:Hey, Snow-Whisper!?? Lol. Yes, it’s snowing. You got your wish. But girl… you will not believe the chaos you summoned! I’ma kick yo’ ass for telling me to bring this nigga on this trip!
Klarissa:Oh, Lord! What happened now, friend?!
I sighed and started typing, thumbs flying. I proceeded to tell her about how the entire morning went down, starting with the roaming bear to Isis cooking. After that, I went into detail about Adrian’s incident.
Me:So you know how Bryce gets—overly prepared, dead serious, and acting like this cabin trip came with a survival certification? Tell me why he took Adrian’s ass outside with him to help cut some wood, and this nigga damn near chopped off his knee trying to impress me.
Klarissa.LMAO! Girl, what?! How?! But wait! Didn’t you say he was a carpenter?
Me:That’s the lie he told, bitch! Come to find out, this man dropped out of trade schoolearly, apparently. This nigga can’t cut wood, cut corners, or even cut the bullshit properly. If confidence was a skill, he’d be licensed. Unfortunately, reality showed up with receipts.
Klarissa: Stoppppppppppp!
Me:Then… he had the nerve to let out a howl like the trees were gonna echo back and send help.
Klarissa:Not a HOWL!
Me:Yes. Sounded like a damn werewolf going through a breakup.
Klarissa:?? Chess, IknowBryce dragged him!
Me: Girl, dragged, educated, and humbled his ass! Meanwhile, Isis walking around in designer socks, like hypothermia can’t see labels. This whole trip had turned into a character reveal, and the snow hadn’t even been here a full day. A bear, weather, wood, and somebody being put on the spot to cook will really expose people.Pray for me, friend.
Chapter fourteen
Bryce
“A Blunt Would’ve Fixed This”
Istood on the patio, forearms resting against the cold railing, staring out into the white quiet like it might give me some answers if I stared long enough. The mountains stretched out in front of me, and the snow clung to the trees in heavy layers. The world was muted and hushed, like it was holding its breath. I’d been out there for a good twenty minutes. The cold didn’t bother me much. I’d spent too many too many mornings and nights landing planes in conditions that made lesser men pray, so that was familiar.
That was one of those days I wished I wasn’t a pilot—justso I could smoke. I just needed one blunt to take the edge off that whole weekend, or hell, even a bottle. But all we had was some fancy wine that Chesteria had bought. That shit wasn’t gonna scratch the surface of what I felt.
I chuckled low, the sound caught somewhere between disbelief and amusement, as I stood there thinking about the crazy shit Davion had said during our recent call.
“Man, fuck that,” Davion said. “If I were you, I’d tell Isis to pack them lashes and them ‘get ready with me’ outfits, and her and ol’ boy can hit the road.”
I huff a laugh. “Nigga, you wild. So you’d evict them in the snow?”
