Set You Free (Wreck and Bull #2)

1. Present Day – Christmas Eve

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PRESENT DAY – CHRISTMAS EVE

JOSIE

‘ W hy do I get the feeling I’m being set up?’ I side-eye my best friend Ella, but she just grins in response, looking cute, and innocent, and deliriously loved-up.

Ever since she finally screwed her head on the right way and got back together with her boyfriend, Nate, she’s tried to spread the love. I would have been totally there for it — completely open to leaving behind my single ways — if I hadn't been so spectacularly rejected. And by Nate’s big brother, nonetheless.

Scottie fucking Mullins.

We’d barely been anything. Nothing but a couple of breath-taking hookups. But when he learned who my brother was, he hit the stop button so fast I got whiplash.

I guess that’s what happens when you’ve got your foot to the floor, speeding headfirst into full-blown infatuation — obsession even — and someone else applies the brakes.

I replay Ella’s words.

You’re amazing. Let’s see if there’s someone here tonight who can see that.

She’s not subtle. I’m absolutely being set up. But perhaps it’s what I need.

Across the car park, the old barn of The Wreck glows warmly, strung with Christmas lights, but I remain belted into the passenger seat, fixing my gaze into the darkened forest. Plucking at the thread on my distressed jeans, I consider how it’ll be if he’s at the party, too, playing my mantra over in my head:

He doesn’t know what he’s missing.

Ella turns to face me, brown eyes soft and wide with concern. ‘What’re you thinking?’

‘Ugh, who knew getting rejected would bum me out so much.’ I try to laugh but it fails, coming out flat and unconvincing. ‘I thought when Scott showed up at the hospital, he’d changed his mind.’

It wouldn’t have been a huge leap. He’d strode into A she’s the queen of affirmations.

Fake it till you make it, right?

Rummaging in the back, Ella hauls over some bottles of beer we’d brought to contribute to the party. We grab a pack each and make our way out of the car and over to the barn. Upbeat Christmas music and a babble of voices drift through the winter air.

A pang hits me, tightening my stomach: the bittersweet, pointless, hope that Scott will be here. When I’d asked her on the way over, Ella hadn’t known for sure.

Scott and I haven’t seen each other once since that night at the hospital, he’d already ended things and we’d agreed to be friends . But every time I’ve thought of him since, the disappointment — more like devastation — runs through me anew. My head and my heart are in very different places and, fuck, I wish everything could get on the same page.

How had I got myself into a situation of being totally intoxicated by the one man I can’t have? I blame the fact we hadn’t seen each other for eight years, that and the masquerade at Halloween — maybe some witchy enchantment had been cast. We hadn’t recognised each other and when we finally did, the spell broke and an icy bucket of water doused the flames of our hot, albeit fledgling romance.

We walk briskly, and I draw in closer to Ella. In the dark, I let myself be the frightened little girl I’ve been trying to hide. Scared of rejection. Scared of loss. Clinging to the few pieces of me that are left. But as we push into the light of the party, I lift my head, unwind my scarf, straighten my shoulders and remember that feeling I’ve been chasing. Levity. Power. Freedom. Freaking fireworks, if I’m honest.

I will find that spark again.

And if the feeling I got with Scott was anything to go by, imagine what it’d be like with someone who actually wanted me.

I want that.

I’m sure I can find that zing with someone el— All of the air rushes out of me.

Almost a full head and shoulders above the rest of the party goers is the sexiest Santa I have ever seen — if Santa was two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle and wore his red velvet suit open, revealing a freaking twelve-pack. A frosting of stubble replaces the usual white beard, and, what should be a jolly smile, is in fact a wicked, smouldering grin.

‘Who’s that? ’ I hope Ella doesn’t hear the squeak in my voice.

‘Ah, that’s Nate’s bestie, Chunk. Our host .’ She sounds undeniably smug. ‘I’ll introduce you.’

It’s too much to compute. That mountain of a man plus my suspicions of Ella’s plot to set me up? One and one adding up to him being a ten.

‘He’s quite … something.’

‘He’s huge, isn’t he?’ She links arms with me and says softly, ‘Gentle giant though, I’ve decided.’

As she leads me across the barn, I can’t help but think I wouldn’t mind if he wasn’t that gentle.

We head to the long drinks table, covered in different bottles, paper cups and surrounded by ice buckets.

Although Chunk might be a very good distraction at this party, if Scott shows up, I’m going to need courage of the Dutch variety also. So I survey the range of drinks and add our offering to the stash. With a clink, I deposit our donation of beer bottles in one of the buckets of ice, and take out a cold one. Flicking off the lid on the edge of the table, I take a swig and scan the room.

My heart belly flops. ‘Shit, is that Scott?’ I almost choke as I swallow.

At the far wall, is the man who’s been disturbing my every thought for the last two months. Haunting me as I try to work, try to paint. Invading my fantasies with the memories of what we did, how he made me feel. Disturbing my dreams, both the good ones of us together that I never want to wake from, and the nightmares where he finds a million ways and a million reasons for us not to be together.

I suck down another gulp, and study the way his dark hair flops over his forehead. Under it, a rumpled brow, and the shadow of a faint scowl.

He sips on a drink and I follow the movement of his lips, rewarded with a flashback of that mouth on me.

‘Seeing him is good, right?’ Ella murmurs. ‘A chance to get your head in the game and get over that first encounter?’

She’s right. I’ve got to remind my stupid heart what the deal is. But seeing the flex of those stupidly big shoulders — the way his shirt pulls across his chest — is making it hard.

‘I can do this.’ I take a deep breath and force a smile. ‘I can talk to him like a normal person.’

‘You’ll be great.’ My friend’s voice is warm and lovely. Reassuring. ‘You want me to stick around when you speak to him?’

Hell— ‘No, it’s probably better not to have an audience.’

She squeezes my hand and I know she’s got me. All the way.

Chunk suddenly looms over us. During my preoccupation with Scott, I didn’t see him approach. He scoops Ella into a flurry of welcome kisses on her cheeks.

‘You made it.’ His voice is deep and warm.

The man is a beast in all the right ways. His body is a solid wall, the lightest smattering of fuzz dusting his pecs. Dirty blonde hair peeks out from under the velvety Santa hat. His movie star features are sliced by a scar down the side of his face, but his kind green eyes twinkle, as does his easy smile.

As Ella introduces us, Chunk leans forward, regarding me attentively, as if he’s genuinely interested and pleased I’m there. The scent of wood, maybe log fires, washes over me, and his large hand sears my back as he gives me a gentle kiss on the cheek.