My tummy rumbled at the thought of a nice, cozy meal. I hadn’t eaten since getting on the bus in Vancouver.
I had a couple of snacks left in my backpack, but first, I turned to Wabby’s mom to ask if they had a home computer so Wabby could access Khan Academy the next time Mr. Zion handed him a worksheet from 1992.
“Bad news,” she said before I could get the question out. “We’re still at capacity. But why don’t you head over to the Bear Mountain Bar and Grill until check-in hours end? I really appreciate you helping Wabby. I’ve left a note for the next shift's clerk to put you at the top of the list if there are any no-shows. Just come back at nine, okay?”
Nine p.m.Only the years of work I’d done to regulate my emotions and not go immediately into doom-casting kept me from panicking. At least outwardly.
“Here, I’ll hold your suitcase behind the desk,” she said, taking my carry-on by its handle. “Go grab something to eat at the Bar and Grill. Tell my brother I sent you—he’ll give you the family discount.”
Even with the family discount, I hadn’t planned on dipping even further into my savings after buying the expensive ticket from Vancouver to this remote mountain town and then having to shell out money for a last-minute room at who knew what price. My instinct urged me to stubbornly stay put for the next…I checked my watch… two and a half hours until the new clerk knew for sure there weren’t any more rooms to rent out.
But if only to maintain the appearance of someone you’d want to give a room to—even without a reservation—I fought my original instinct and shouldered my own backpack to do exactly what she suggested.
I had no idea that one small decision was about to change everything.
the rest of my life saddled up to the bar
. . .
callum
“So, what time do you get off?” the blonde tourist who’d been flirting with me for an hour asked. “I’m staying with my sorority sisters at the lodge. But I can sneak away.”
While I appreciated not even having to work to secure a hook-up, I hadn’t ID’d her when she ordered her drink and dinner. And her blue-and-gold UBC Vancouver sweatshirt told me she might fall under my age cutoff of twenty-five.
I was just about to lie to her about being too tired to hook up after we closed the place down at midnight… when the Rest of My Life saddled up to the bar.
Holy Fucking Bear.
It was like she fell out of one of those “naughty teacher” videos I occasionally watched to get me through the winter months. And by occasionally, I mean every single night before bed.
And sometimes in the morning if Gideon was still asleep when I got up.
But those videos didn’t remotely compare to the real thing—even completely clothed, she was the sexiest female I’d ever laid eyes on.
The country song on the jukebox immediately morphed into Van Halen’s “Hot for Teacher”—at least in my head. And why did it feel like some sort of ’80s video wind was blowing as I took her in?
She was curvy, with long, kinky curls spilling over her shoulders.
Also, honey-brown and unfairly cute in a pair of candy-apple-red cat eye glasses.
She wore a light-yellow cardigan over a…wait, seriously?
Was she truly rocking a black-and-white Tegan and Sara portrait shirt? They were one of Gideon’s favorite acts back before the Joint Task Bear Force fucked up his head.
Her scent wafted into my nose. And holy, holy,holyfuck. She smelled like honey.
Honey went witheverything—Gideon’s cloves, my cardamom, and even Rys’s hard-to-match Labrador tea scent.
“Hi,” she said, taking the seat on the right of the UBC girl I was about to turn down. “May I have a glass of water with no ice?”
“Actually, we were speaking,” the UBC girl answered before I could, slitting her eyes. “Wait your turn.”
The Rest of My Life shrank back, her cute face falling like she’d been slapped.
Which made my bear want to rip out the younger woman’s throat.
“We’re done talking,” I informed the blonde without looking away from the Rest of My Life.
