A Frenemy in Need: Merry Mischief (Winter Bliss)

Chapter One

Rex

April 1st

“ F uck yeah, cheese dip!”

From the back seat, I pop open the Tupperware slowly so no one will hear. Oh shit, better than dip, it’s a full charcuterie spread, complete with a warming plate for the baked brie. Fancy! I grab a flaxseed cracker and aim for the jelly topping. It sinks straight into the good stuff. Ooooh, blackberry . When the creamy, salty, sweet combo hits my tongue, I groan like a porn star.

“Rex!” Noelle gasps and claws at my arm from the front seat. “That’s for the party.”

“But . . . cheese.” I pout, snatching another couple pieces as we tussle over the container.

“Give it back,” my brother, Rom, booms from the driver’s seat. His eyes find mine in the rearview mirror, blazing blood red and black. Ugh. He’s so protective of his new human girlfriend.

With a sigh, I pop a piece of pepperjack in my mouth and hand it over, trying and failing to get comfortable in the back seat. I choose manspreading in the middle of the SUV’s back bench, but my knees still dig into the sides of their seats and my horns only have a couple inches clearance up top, making me want to slouch. Thus, my need for emotional support cheese.

“Sorry, Noelle,” I grouse with the big apologetic eyes that always work on my mom. A reluctant smile stretches across her face. Bingo! My brother’s girl is a softie and can’t stay annoyed at me for more than 2.5 seconds.

“Here we are,” Rom says as we pass under the tall, curving sign of a ranch on the outskirts of town.

Wild Hearts.

I hunch down further and peer out the front window. The local volcano smokes in the distance. Pretty fucking cool. Snowcapped, gray-blue mountains stretch around the infamous Teapot Lake ahead of us. There’s a great view of the steaming hot waterfall that stays warm year-round too.

I’d never admit it to my brother, but it’s kind of nice being back in Winter Bliss.

“My friend owns the place.” Noelle’s eyes light up over the sign. “It’s amazing! She’s rebranding the ranch to Wild Hearts Retreat because she’s going to build some luxury cabins for tourists. I just love the new name. So cute!”

“More like corny as fuck,” I mutter under my breath.

Noelle turns and blinks at me in shock. Oops, she wasn’t supposed to hear that.

“Keep the joy killing to a minimum, please. And no bad behavior tonight,” my brother drones from the front. “This is an engagement party. Classy.”

“Engaged on April Fool’s Day?” I laugh. “That’s a choice. Definitely not doomed from day one.”

Noelle is still silently just staring at me, blinking like she’s on the fritz. It’s kinda funny seeing her glitch out in real time. “Are all your brothers so . . . so . . .?”

She’s too nice for her own good, probably struggling to not say the mean thing she’s thinking about me. Growing up with a house of brothers, I can take it. I grab a piece of sharp cheddar that fell out of the container onto the floorboard, pop it in my mouth, and lean back, folding my hands behind my head.

“So . . .?” I try to get her to finish her sentence, dare her to make me seem like anything other than what I am—a mean-spirited, dim-witted oaf. The loser in the family. She must know it already. It’s been a couple days since I showed up on their doorstep to help. Help? More like my family got sick of me and wanted me out of their hair.

“So awkward?” my brother asks.

“Asshole.” I punch him in the shoulder. Not that he’s wrong.

“No,” she says.

“Grumpy?” Rom tries to fill in the blank. “Dangerous? Foolhardy?”

Noelle looks at him like he’s serious for a beat. Shit, maybe he is. We . . . well, we do tick a few of those boxes.

She shakes her head and looks back at me. Her eyebrows furrow and pitch down. Oh crap, she’s looking at me like a lost puppy. “Are they all so hopeless?”

Ouch.

Rom chuckles. “Every one, goddess.”

Ewww with the pet names. Talk about corny.

“Cheese gives me hope.” I dive forward and snatch the container. “Cheese is life.”

“Rex!” Noelle shouts.

When she pulls at my mustache, I stiff-arm her and then flip my hand to tickle her ribs, managing to grab a hunk of parmesan—not ideal—and a single crumbly cracker before the car veers to the side of the road, screeching to a halt.

Rom rotates in his seat. He’s a year younger than me but was always so tough and had his shit together in a way that kind of intimidated me. Normally the easygoing one among my brothers, I know that firestorm look, the smoke trickling out of his nose and the slight downturn to his head. Like he wants to gouge my eyes out with his jagged broken horn.

He’s had it. He’s about to fuck me up.

“Give. It. Back.” Each word is low and slow and accompanied by hand-wrenching me by the horn like an errant child.

“Ouch.” I grumble and shrug free, scratching the side of his headrest with the tip of a horn. Whoops . He doesn’t need to see that. I resecure the lid and hand it back. “Fine, four-eyes.”

“Jackass.”

“Fuckface.”

My brother sighs and shakes his head. He picks up his girlfriend’s hand and kisses her knuckles before interlacing their fingers and getting the car back on the dirt road.

“I think you’ll like my friend’s ranch, Rex!” Noelle says brightly, prettying up the disheveled contents of the Tupperware, all annoyance at me already forgotten. “One of the moneymakers is the Christmas tree farm. But her real heart is in rescuing animals—a mix of pets, livestock, and wildlife.” What makes her think I like animals, I have no idea. I mean, they’re better than people, but that’s a low bar. “The fireflies are my favorite though,” she continues, staring at Rom like he’s made out of angel dust and cookie dough ice cream. “They fly around the property every sunset. It’s so romantic.”

Remembering the rainbow-hued fireflies of Winter Bliss does bring a smile to my face all the same. They’re unique to the area and, according to an old wives’ tale, a sign of good luck. A rare happy memory in the midst of an otherwise shitty high school experience surfaces—the time I built a habitat for the shiny little buggers in shop class.

I hear a giggle and look up. Noelle is watching me in the rearview mirror with a soft smile on her face. “Told you he likes animals.” She wiggles in her seat. “I just know he’ll have fun tonight. I caught him teary-eyed over Where the Red Fern Grows yesterday.”

“What monster doesn’t cry at that book?” I ask.

Rom parks in a gravel lot surrounded by trees. “I thought you hated reading.”

“Sometimes I like to remind myself how depressing it is.” I pop open the door and squeeze out of the back seat. The two of them rush ahead, but I stretch my arms overhead with a deep inhale, soaking in the scenery.

As properties go, Wild Hearts is pretty sweet.

An old ranch-style house sits back a little ways from the lakefront. It’s got some modern upgrades judging by the solar panels, generator, and a detached garage that looks newer. There’s also a couple of plots cleared out on a hill to the left. That must be where the rental cabins are going. Nice setup.

The smell is the best part though. I take a deep breath and hold it, closing my eyes and imagining paradise as a mix of dark pine trees, sulfur from the nearby hot springs, and a distant smoke. This place is catnip for demons. It hits all the right notes.

No wonder our ancestors who founded Winter Bliss never left. While the lava pits, active volcano, forest fires, and dangerous wildlife may be a caution to some, for us, they’re selling points.

Demons love a little chaos.

Before I know it, I’ve wandered closer to the barn, two stories surrounded by a maze of ramshackle, fenced-in paddocks. The doors are closed, but I see horses and goats out in one pasture. It brings to mind all the summers I spent at my uncle’s ranch while my brothers went to fancy, enrichment camps. It was the first time I really felt different from them. Not good enough.

Even still, those months working outdoors are some of my happiest memories.

“Hey, girl,” I laugh as a big dark mare snuffles right up on my face. I pet down the softest part of her nose. My heart rate slows and a calm washes over me, like my body knows it needs to be chill as fuck to keep her at ease.

Fuck, I miss being around horses, especially Umbrans. This one’s got thick horns circling her ears and is around twenty hands tall. I scratch up her nose to the raised skin over her protected third eye. It doesn’t open often, only in times of stress, when they need to regulate their temperature.

My uncle worked this same type of horse on his ranch. Demons love them because, like us, they came from volcanoes, and we domesticated the first ones. Rather than red like demonkind, Umbran horses evolved in shades of gray, a color that blends in with rocky mountain terrain. This old girl is dark, nearly sleet blue in the early evening sunlight.

I click my fingers and a flame ignites along with delicate sparks, almost like snowflakes. Umbrans eat demon fire like snacks.

Something jostles my shoulder.

“Oh, we’ve got another hungry one, huh?” I laugh at the light-gray girl.

Judging by her smaller horns, she’s younger, but a lot about the two of them strikes me as similar. They must be a local variant of Umbran, if the longer hair around their feet are an indication. Built for colder weather.

“Mama and baby, I’m guessing?”

They blink at me, licking up sparks from both my hands. Like demons, their eyes glow, but if they want to stay hidden, they use translucent under-eyelids and smoke from their nose to mask themselves from predators.

These two aren’t hiding anything from me, which is a good sign. They’re happy enough to snatch up a treat and nudge me for pets.

My chest feels light. When an animal trusts you implicitly, on instinct alone, there’s nothing quite like it. Who needs money or success or any of that shit when you can stand outside in the sunshine with a wild soul and just be?

Some black-nosed goats in an adjoining paddock start bleating like I stole their food. They like fire too, but I don’t have time for those little shit starters. Most people think that particular breed is the likely origin of some of the tales surrounding a devilish, three-eyed, goat-man figure in human folklore.

I get it. All goats are kind of evil, in a cute way. These more than most.

Instrumental music starts up from a speaker near the house, reminding me I’m here to hang out with people. Bummer. I find a group of humans, demons, fae, and orcs gathered on a big flagstone patio nestled in a grove of trees. A few party tables and wooden folding chairs are set up under layers of string lights, lending the whole place a, dare I say, charming glow. There’s an outdoor kitchen and a small herb or flower garden by the looks of it.

I spot Noelle leaving the table of appetizers and rub my hands together. Perfect timing. Just before I can snatch some of that pesto burrata I spied, my brother appears out of nowhere and bats my hand away, stepping between me and my prize.

That cheese is mine by rights now. I growl. A battle to the death it is.

“What did the electrician say about the south Boise site?” he asks.

Work? Are you fucking kidding me?

“Cheese,” I grunt.

“One plate.” He points at me and steps aside.

I grumble while I load my plate, letting the orgasmic creamy goodness of the first bite wash away my hangry rage.

“The electrician?” he repeats.

I chew and glare at him. The electrician said the work to up the wattage in the rental unit we want is more than we budgeted, which will mean my brother has to renegotiate the lease with the property owner. But it’s Friday evening, and he doesn’t need to be thinking about that all weekend. He’s spending time with his girl on some staycation getaway, and I’m not about to let him drag himself back into work mode. Once Rom clicks his out-of-office, he’s good at disconnecting, but until then, he can be a bit of a ballbuster.

“It’s five fuckin’ thirty. Why are we talking shop?” I sneer and pop a pepperoni in my mouth. “This is supposed to be a party celebrating love or some shit.”

“The electrician needs to finish before the painters, which I have on retainer for two weeks from now.”

“We sling caffeine to the weary masses, bro. We’re not saving the world.” Perkatory is our family’s business, a chain of coffeeshops we are slowly but surely expanding nationwide. Pretty cool, I guess. I’m not really in leadership, too much of a mess to be trusted beyond odd jobs. But I try to pull my weight.

“If I need to hire someone cheaper,” he continues. “I can make some calls now and—“

“That’s my job.” My chest heats in anger. I can’t do much, but if there’s one thing I’m half decent at, it’s working with contractors and tradesmen. I cross my arms and lean my head forward, letting him know I’ll lock horns if he wants to tussle.

“Right,” he says. “Of course.”

I know what he’s thinking, why he wants to just do it himself. I’m the weak link in the family, sent away because I’m probably annoying our oldest brother too much. Though, to be fair, the type A, CEO bosshole deserves it. Generally, I’m not too upset about being here. After Rom announced he was staying in Winter Bliss because he met the love of his life, the fam decided to turn lemons into lemonade and double the investment to expand Perkatory in the western market ahead of schedule, starting with two locations between here and Boise by the end of the year.

And of all the siblings, they sent me to help. Me, the brother who not only never made it to college, but only finished my GED under duress because the trade school I wanted to pick up classes in wouldn’t accept me otherwise.

I don’t usually fight with Rom either, but if he’s implying I can’t handle haggling with an electrician, that stings. I thought a few months here would be a nice break from constantly disappointing my family back home. Rom may be half decent in negotiation but he doesn’t know shit about wiring in buildings constructed before the 1930s. The electrician is more liable to up the price if he catches wind that my little brother has no technical knowledge.

“Sorry,” he sighs and squeezes the back of his neck. I must have made the silence awkward, standing here glowering at him, up in my feelings. Rom reaches out and grabs my shoulder which turns into a friendly pat on the neck. “I’ve just been managing the expansion on my own for the last few months. Got used to having no support. But I need it. I’m glad you’re here, brother.”

Oh, shit. He’s glad I’m here? He needs me? My throat tightens in surprise. Our family doesn’t really talk about emotional shit. Is this new empathetic Rom because of his always-smiling, watery-eyed girlfriend?

Yikes.

“Business schmizzness. It’s nothing big. We’ll chat on Monday.” I slap his chest with the back of my hand.

Back to cheese, much safer territory. I pop a mozzarella ball in my mouth and it practically melts on my tongue. That’s the good stuff.

My phone dings with a calendar notification— Site 2 contract review with Logistics Coordinator. I scoff. Logistics Coordinator. I do the random tasks no one else in my family has time for. The easy shit I can’t screw up. I look over at my overachieving younger brother in his nice suit and horn-rimmed glasses and can’t help but flick his nose. “Such a nerd.”

“My nerd,” Noelle croons and slides along his side. His hand skims down her back, then up her arm, finding its way to the back of her neck. She arches against him.

I roll my eyes and make a puking sound in my throat. It’s adorable or whatever, but they can miss me with the PDA. Still, it’s kind of sweet. If anyone deserves a happy ending it’s my reclusive, bookish brother. Here I thought we’d be bachelors for life together. Him because of crippling insecurity. Me because everything I touch turns to disaster.

Being tall and built like an ox only gets you so far with the ladies. I’m not the happily ever after sort. Oh well.

“Ahh, she’s here.” Noelle pats Rom’s chest several times before rushing off. “I need to find Randy.”

“Who?” I ask.

On the Dark Mother’s sacred panties, I don’t get how that woman knows everyone in town. At least Mom has a Rolodex. Not only does Noelle know everyone’s name, but who their family is, their home address, and favorite book tropes, whatever that means.

“The guy proposing tonight. It’s a surprise, I guess.” Rom finally tucks his phone away. He snatches a glass of bubbly from the table and grabs a long pretzel stick, waving it to point out the party tables and nicely dressed guests. “Remember?”

“Right.” I snap off half his pretzel and chew on it. “What kind of guy needs to surprise a woman into getting married? Sounds like a red flag.” But what do I know? Though now it makes sense why the cheese is top tier. Wedding money.

“Fair point, well made,” Rom mutters, eyes tracking Noelle. “But no joy killing. You’re on your best behavior tonight.”

“Sure, sure.” While my brother’s distracted, I fill a fresh plate with more cheese and a few palate cleanser fruits. As expected, he drifts away within seconds. The lovestruck demon can’t seem to be more than five feet away from his girl at any given moment.

“Oh wow, Noelle brought the fancy cheese!” Someone with a husky, feminine voice slides right beside me. “My favorite! Blackberry baked brie. Cheese is life.”

A woman after my own heart. I cut a look sideways and all I see is dark curly hair. Her forearm brushes mine, and goosebumps prickle from the contact. She smells nice too, like grass and wildflowers.

I straighten my mustache and pass a hand down my shirt, making sure it’s tucked in. Thank the Blessed Darkness my brother insisted I wear a button-up. This pearl snap cowboy number is all I got, so it has to do.

I turn to get a better look at my fellow cheese lover.

Her eyes find mine, and the sight of her hits me like a ton of bricks. My chest heats. Tendrils of fire snake up my throat and I shake my head to fight the heady instinct of desire. No fucking way. She should be long gone.

But who could forget those dark eyes? Sharp , I always thought. Like a fox. Even as a teenager, when she looked at me it was like an arrow to the heart, like she could see straight through me.

“Fuck me,” comes out on a shaky exhale. There’s no way she’s still in this town.

“Hmm?” She finishes chewing.

Shit. Not my best line. My eyes dart around, but nothing comes to mind. What I know about her is limited to the nerdy girl paired with me on a group project fifteen years ago. But we do have one thing in common right now.

“Cheese.” I thrust the untouched plate of food toward her.

She chuckles and takes it from me, gingerly picking up a cube of muenster and popping it in her mouth. Full red lips close around it as she cocks her head at me. The tight black curls framing her face bounce hypnotically. Her hair is even prettier than I remembered, probably because she usually wore it back due to our strict private school dress code.

Even though she’s laughing at my expense—for acting like a fucking imbecile—my chest warms at the stupid fact I gave her food and she’s eating it. She moves back to the baked brie and her eyelids flutter closed.

I think it’s a fae thing—trapping a damsel by tricking her into eating your food—but I send a prayer down to Mother Darkness that there might be some crossover. Because I’m gonna need a shitload more than one-word answers and party food to impress the smartest girl I ever knew.

Fuck me . I want to say it this time—beg if I have to—in a completely different context. But ladies don’t usually take too well to my bluntness. Flirt, asshole! I gulp, take a deep breath, and clear my throat.

“Hey, Birdie Lynn.”

It was a nickname only I called her, and she must recognize it. She looks me up and down, smile fading as her jaw drops. My chest heaves, trying to take in air. She was pretty at sixteen, but beyond beautiful now. Full-figured, full hair, and full of life.

“Rex?” Her voice pitches up before she recovers with a mean little smile. “Didn’t recognize you with that fuzzy caterpillar on your face.”

I grin like the cat that got the cream. If she’s being mean, she remembers me just fine. We were always half friendly, half hateful to each other. It was our way of flirting. I think. Let’s test the theory.

“Still as sweet as a two-by-four to the face, huh?” I twirl the end of my facial hair to make it curl and wink. “The ladies never complain about the sensation of an old-fashioned pornstache.”

“Pig,” she snorts, eyes twinkling. “Haven’t changed one bit, I see. How are you?”

“Cleaner than you.” I pick a piece of straw out of her hair, curious. An image fills my mind, followed by a deranged bolt of jealousy. “Rolling around in the haystacks with somebody?”

“No.” She huffs and pulls up her phone, checking her reflection in the camera. Even back in school, she was always perfectly put together. Prim and proper. The only time she wasn’t was when she’d pop off at me. I took it as a compliment, naturally.

“Still pretty as ever,” I say, quieter, realizing I need to stop with the teasing and try a different approach.

“You’re making my hair a mess, you little goober.” Her voice goes soft as she lifts a hand to her neck. It’s then I see the fucking bird cuddled up right behind her ear, one violet eye blinking at me. Their dark-green feathers are dead giveaway.

“A horny wood owl?” I snicker. “You know those things are deadly, right?”

“They’re just a baby.” She glares at me. “And the species name is Lampros Ascalaphus .”

“ Lampros Ascalaphus ,“ I repeat in a mocking tone. “Also known as the fae death owl or, more locally, the horny wood owl.”

“They may have been used by fae royalty to hunt and poison prey, but it’s just their nature. They’re really no threat to people.” The backs of her fingers brush against the little bugger’s emerald-colored feathers. It figures that a tough, smart girl like Birdie would have a deadly bird as a pet. Kinda cool, actually.

“Fun fact: Lampros Ascalaphus feathers are green to blend in with the upper pine forests of North America, but molt to white every winter to camouflage with the snow.“ She smiles softly at the bird.

“As nerdy as ever.” I steal a cube of her cheese and shudder when the owls cocks its head at an sharp angle. Before it can poison me, she smacks my hand away. A hot thrill shoots through me. “And as fiery as ever.”

“No one would describe me like that.” She sniffs and straightens her necklace chain. Goddess forbid the clasp be visible or she be messy in any way.

“That’s a shame,” I say. And it is. In school, she was the spitfire that never let me get away with slacking off or flirting too much.

Her gaze narrows.

Oh, but I loved when she got mad at me. Could never predict what she’d say next. But I’m not trying to actually piss her off. It’s a dance. Time to hit her with a safer topic—nostalgia.

“Did you get an A in shop class after all?” My family moved away before final grades were posted.

“Yeah.” She pauses, watching me carefully. “It was a really great project.”

I wonder if she’s thinking about that last day of class too, when we got caught in the rain and everything changed between us. For a minute, at least.

I could keep pressing the flirtation, but I need to tread carefully. A girl like Birdie is smart enough to know I’m still bad news.

“Valedictorian, then?” I ask. While I was two years behind my peers, she was a year ahead and working toward graduating early. She was headed to an East Coast Ivy League college to follow in her dad’s footsteps.

“Salutatorian.” Her jaw ticks on a swallow like she’s not proud of being the second fucking smartest person at Infernus Academy. Right here in Winter Bliss, it’s the most elite private business school out on this side of the country, almost exclusively demons too, except for a select few like Birdie. My parents spent all their meager extra money ensuring all my brothers and I went there, not that I ever made good on it for them.

“That’s badass.” I nod. “Life’s been good to you, then? Surprised you’re here and not busting heads on Wall Street with your dad.” He was a guest lecturer in the honors program, a retired trust fund manager for old money families.

“Oh, I was for a few years. It wasn’t a good fit. I moved back a couple years ago and bought my stepmom’s land to help rescue animals like this.” She scratches the neck of the little owl in her hair.

“That doesn’t surprise me one bit, Birdie Lynn,” I say, a little quieter so when I lean forward to steal a slice of strawberry, neither she or the bird gets spooked. She doesn’t even slap my hand this time, just watches me put it in my mouth in a way that gives me a jolt of confidence. Something pings in the back of my head—an alarm—something I’m forgetting, but I bat it away. I’m making progress here. She’s letting me get closer. “You always had a soft heart for animals. Brutes, even.”

Her expression shifts to surprise and she leans away slightly. Hmm, I pushed too hard.

“What brings you back to Winter Bliss?” she asks, more guarded.

“That dork.” I try to lighten the mood, thumbing to where Rom stands behind Noelle. They’re both whispering to each other and staring at the sunset.

“Rom’s your brother. I almost forgot.” A hint of her smile is back as she looks at them. Okay, this is salvageable if I can keep the conversation going.

“Yeah, I’m helping him out with Perkatory for a while. Found this sweet bed-and-breakfast in town. It’s got a weird looking oval roof, so they call it The Deviled Egg. I may or may not have been swayed by it being named after my favorite party food. Turns out, they make a mean continental breakfast with cheesy eggs and don’t mind when I raid the communal fridge. Great snacks.” My nervous laugh is higher pitched than normal, and even though I realize I’m rambling, I can’t seem to stop. “They also have this free family dinner every week—

“On Thursday nights.” Birdie’s full-on grinning, and my heart squeezes. Score!

I always liked her smile. Her teeth were a little too big for her mouth but in a cute way. Some prick at school made fun of her for it once, but I roughed him up between classes. He was lucky my brother pulled me off when he did. Anyone who thinks Birdie doesn’t have the prettiest fucking smile is an asshole. A dumb asshole.

“My moms own the place,” she says. “And the cheesy eggs are menemen , a Turkish omelet dish with garlic, veggies, and beyaz peynir . Best breakfast you’ll ever have.”

“Wait, your moms?” I must have misheard. Miss Eda is a cute white-haired human, but her wife is a hardass demoness. How is that—

“Yeah, doofus. Orla is my stepmom.”

“Whoa.”

What are the chances? Also, it makes me realize how little I know her. All we shared was one high school semester together, a class where the only way to get her attention was pulling her ponytail or kicking the backs of her shoes. She fully hated me by the time we were paired up for the final project. I won her over all the same. Kind of. I think. But that was fifteen years ago. Birdie’s still smiling though, eyes twinkling in the ambient light. Looking at her is like a drug. I feel like I could float away.

“Are you high?” she laughs.

“On life? Always.” I grin back. Good recovery!

“ Pfft . Dork.“ But her smile doesn’t fade. It makes me bold. I lean down, close enough to be eye level with her, only to see hers widen in surprise.

“Be mean to me, Birdie. I like it,” I say. It’s time to push. “What’re you up to after this engagement party?” No time like the present to make good on some teenage fantasies. I keep the second part to myself for now.

Birdie sucks in a sharp breath, but not the sexy kind. The shocked kind. Uh, were we not flirting just now?

“Engagement?” she glances around with a tense laugh. “I think you’re at the wrong party.”

The alarm bells in my slow-ass brain start blaring again just as a gangly human guy comes up behind her. He’s wearing a black felt cowboy hat that has never seen a hard day’s work in its life. Poser. But when he sets his hands on Birdie’s full hips and chin on her head, I see red. My mood darkens, like a band of discordant bass guitars thrumming in my body at the same time.

Who the fuck is this cock-blocking son of a bitch?

Wait.

She owns land here. A wildlife refuge. This place is hers. Birdie is Noelle’s friend that’s about to get surprise proposed to.

She looks back at the weasley, dime-store cowboy who he kisses her on the fucking cheek, all while still holding the plate of cheese I gave her. I silently beg that evil little owl to gouge his eye out.

Instead, he turns her around by the shoulders and drops to one knee.

“Fuck me,” I whisper under my breath.

It’s April Fool’s after all, and there’s no surprise who the biggest one turned out to be.