“Is that why you came here after—” I catch myself before the question fully slips past my lips, but the way Blaire’s expression falls tells me she knows exactly what I was about to say.After you called off your wedding.
“I don’t regret my decision, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“It’s not.”
It absolutely is.
For some stupid reason, my pulse trips as a seed of hope worms its way into my heart. I don’t know what the fuck it means. I gave up on the idea of the two of us ever ending up together after she broke my heart the first time, twenty years ago. I accepted that she’d always be my sister’s best friend, and nothing more. With the way I pulled back and pushed her out all those years ago, I can’t even call her a friend. We’ve tolerated each other because of our families.
You were twelve, dipshit. Things are different now.
“What’s your favorite way to spend a weekend?” Blaire asks.
“Away from people.”
She chuckles again, but it’s more guarded than before. I hate that I caused that wall to go back up. “You must really want toprove a point to this ex of yours if you’re braving people this weekend, then.”
It takes me a moment to realize what she’s saying, and she gives me a funny look.
“What’s her name?”
“You already asked a question,” I say, testing the chocolate on the strawberries to avoid answering that question. Lies only work if you avoid layering too many details. After tonight, it won’t matter anyway. “These are ready,” I say of the strawberries. “I’ll feed you first.”
It’s awkward to start as I guide the sweet treat to her mouth. But all that fades the moment she closes her lips around the chocolate shell. Fuck me, am I jealous of a stupid piece of fruit?
She bites into the strawberry, and juice instantly runs down her chin. She jumps back, the strawberry nearly tumbling to the floor. Her eyes go wide in realization, and she catches the falling fruit in her palm.
I reach for a damp napkin, patting at the juice trail on her neck first.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Blaire asks.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re a vampire who wants to take a nice big bite out of my neck.”
“Because,” I flick my gaze up to hers, “maybe I do.”
CHAPTER 5
Blaire
“That is the saddest looking heart I’ve ever seen,” Thatcher says, shaking his head at our pitiful team effort to create a heart in the snow via our boots
It’s his fault, really.
Ever since the bakery, all I can think about is him taking a bite out of my neck. It’s messing with my fucking head. Sure, Thatcher is easy on the eyes with all those hard muscles and tattoos. He’s no doubt broken more than a few hearts in his day, but why am I suddenly feeling like I’m missing out on the fun by not being one of them?
“I think it’s fitting,” I say, studying the warped shape mostly to keep my eyes off Thatcher. It’s bad enough that we’re huddled beneath the same fuzzy blanket.
“It’s all fucked up, like us, huh?”
I let out an unexpected laugh as I picture a severely distorted shaped heart beating inside my chest. But hey, the poor guy’s still pumping blood to all the vital organs. Maybe itistime to stop wallowing in self-pity and start figuring out what comes next.
“Why did you call off your wedding, Blaire?”
“Pass.”
“No passing allowed. Says so on the card.”
