Chapter 17 Drew
DREW
Today, we’ve set up the entire town for one massive snowball fight meets capture the flag game.
Snowballs are hidden along downtown and a flag flies at either end of town—one at the bottom hill to the Lodge and one at the church.
It took all morning to set up, and the townsfolk are reacting with the slow build of excitement now that we’re nearing noon.
Adam and Greyson have both volunteered as team leaders, standing on either side of me with matching shit-eating grins as I flip a coin. Greyson wins the coin toss, and I turn to filter back into the crowd of choices when Greyson grabs me by the arm.
I lift a brow at him.
“I choose you,” he calls out louder. “Drew’s my first choice.”
Adam doesn’t seem surprised as I take my spot at Greyson’s side. Was I his first choice, too? “I’ll take Gabe.”
The tension builds as Gabe steps forward, shooting me a solemn glance before standing beside Adam.
It doesn’t take long to divvy up the players, and the tension sours.
I can’t put my finger on what’s off exactly, but something is.
Our groups split, and it’s time for strategy. The bigger kids are all excited, ready to run into the fray and start tossing snowballs.
The younger kids aren’t paying attention, but they’re included to have some fun.
Everyone in town knows the little ones are going to end up rolling around in the snow and rounded up by their mothers within the hour.
For the rest, the battle will likely last all day.
Greyson is a mastermind of strategy—it’s the coach in him. Naturally. He bends to include everyone in our huddle.
“I’m calling this the four waves of frost. Every good team wins with rhythm,” Greyson tells them, drawing a quick map in the snow with a stick. “They’ll expect chaos. We’ll give them choreography.”
“Are you seriously preparing drills for a snowball fight?” I ask. He sounds like the version of him I was used to as a teen and pre-teen.
“That’s why we win, Drew. That’s why we always win.”
Yeah, we did always win.
The first wave is the athletic and teens, Greyson included.
Their goal is to rush in hard from the front to draw attention and create the illusion that the whole team is charging.
They sprint down Main Street toward the opposing flag with lots of yelling and snowballs flying.
It’s flashy, noisy, and chaotic.
Adam’s team scrambles to defend, thinking they’re seeing the main assault.
The second wave is kids. And I help organize them.
While the older players are distracted, the little ones sneak around the back route with snowballs pre-packed.
No one expects them to flank or attack.
“Remember, no mercy,” I tell the kids, handing them handfuls of snowballs. “If they’re taller than you, aim for the knees.”
“That’s cheating,” one of them says.
“That’s strategy,” I correct.
They crawl and giggle and take out some of the leftover unsuspecting kids and adults with the knee shots.
The next wave moves in fast. We have to, since getting hit only takes us out for a half hour.
I’m left behind as the last wave sweeps through in their sneak attack to take out the stragglers. I’m aware of Gabe and Adam both hanging back, waiting for me to show myself.
My past gives me the skill to guard the flag. I was our best goalie after all.
Adam catches my eye over a snowbank, and his smile is predatory. He’s hunting me. It’s the same feeling I’ve had since I met him. He tosses a snowball high, and I slip back, but it catches me in the chest anyway.
“You missed the flag!”
“Did I?” He’s stalking toward it when my secret weapon dumps a snowball on the top of his head from her spot in the tree behind me.
My little six-year-old spitfire who’s spent the last ten minutes asking me questions about softball when she can finally move up from t-ball.
I knew she was perfect for this position.
“Good shot, Sylvie.”
Her giggles spread a smug smile across my face.
“Keep guard. Don’t let anyone touch that flag.”
Adam laughs, too, shaking the snow out of his hair. “Nice trick.”
I bow with some flair and march my way to the designated time out section with sweets and cocoa. Half the town is there, filtering in and out, laughing and having fun. It’s exactly what we’d planned for.
But when I linger with my cup of cocoa, the whispers start again.
I don’t hear the words exactly, but the tone carries and the glances make me more than aware that they’re talking about me.
I guess some things will never change.
I’m back in the game the second my thirty minutes are up, taking out a half dozen more players on my way back to my side’s flag.
Greyson flashes me a grin on my way as he pummels one of Adam’s team trailing me.
He sends me a wink, and I shake my head with a laugh as I jog by.
I’m still laughing when I turn—and nearly collide with a wall of fur-lined parkas and lip gloss glares.
“Guess sleeping your way onto a team works, huh?” one says, sweet as antifreeze.
My throat ices over.
“She would have made Adam’s team if that were true. Reaching pretty high above your station,” says another. Both girls were in my high school. A year younger than me, so they’re obviously privy to my previous scandal.
“And what is my station exactly?” Their smirks twist in an ugly fashion. “Wait, I’ll tell you whatever my station is, it’s above the three of you.”
Three perfectly timed snowballs hit them in their hair-sprayed curls in a quick succession, and my smile spreads wider as I back away.
“See ya.” The rest of my way back is easy, but as the day bleeds on it’s time to go on the offensive.
Mostly because I’m bored.
I make my move, having too much fun running and hiding and dodging snowballs before an arm snags around my waist and spins me around, pressing me into a tree as snowballs hit.
I’d recognize the sweet scent mixed with leather with my eyes closed, but I look up to Gabe’s pouty frown.
Tension rachets up in my middle as he meets my gaze.
He maintains the barrier between me and my attackers, and a wall of heat hits me as he presses into me.
The flash of longing and the memory of his body against mine the last time distracts me for two long seconds.
A quick peek shows the same three girls who confronted me earlier going white then red as they peg Gabe. Mouths pop open then firm into frowns.
“I’m not even on your team,” I breathe.
His nostrils flare, and I tremble as his hot breath hits my ear. “No. But I’m always on your team.”
My barriers crumble a little more. They’ve been wearing down in inches since he walked away from me the last time.
Slowly, Gabe retreats, peering over his shoulder to be sure it’s clear, then there’s feet between our bodies instead of inches.
He gives me another charged look before he makes his way to the time out zone, and my face must be steaming from my blush.
Taking in my surroundings, I catch Greyson again, watching me with a knowing smile before he nods and runs off toward the Lodge.
He’s got their flag in hand twenty minutes later and our team wins, which means everyone crowds into the first floor of the Lodge, filling the front three rooms with people eating and drinking the snacks we prepared.
More whispers are spreading, and they’re harder to ignore as I hear my name paired with the guys’ names.
This is exactly what I didn’t want. What I’d been trying to avoid in returning home.
But it’s not like I can stop the town from talking with how discrete those three are being.
I’m halfway through my cocoa and grabbing a fresh cookie as the gossip grows louder. It’s hard to tune it out, but I try.
“Did you see the way Gabe grabbed her?”
“Greyson must be fuming.”
“Adam’s not even hiding it anymore.”
The cocoa’s suddenly too sweet, the air too warm, and the walls too close.
Then, it’s impossible.
A middle-aged woman I don’t recognize shakes her short hair from her face and spreads her feet to stand off with me as I turn from the refreshment table.
“Girls like you don’t last long here,” the woman says, loud enough for everyone to hear. “You’ll stir up trouble then leave someone’s son in pieces.”
Something in me snaps. The cocoa flies before I can think twice, splattering across her fur collar. I point at her with an accusing finger. “You’re the real problem with small towns. But I can’t expect your son to have any respect when you don’t have any to teach him with.”
The room freezes. Gasps spread like wildfire. I should be mortified, but I’m not.
I’m angry. Fuming.
Gabe’s hand closes around my arm, and my feet are moving under me before I can catch up mentally.
He drags me off, down the hall to our offices. I peer behind me to catch Adam stalking his way after us, a stern frown on his face.
Greyson’s voice carries, “Alright, everyone take a breath. Let’s remember it’s been a long day, and hot cocoa’s for drinking, not dueling.”
I don’t get to hear the rest of it, but I know he’s doing damage control.
Gabe takes me to Adam’s office, and being closed in with them both doesn’t help settle the fury raging inside me. I pull free of Gabe’s grip and run my hands through my hair, grabbing fistfuls to redirect my emotions.
“I am so sick of everyone treating my life like it’s something for them to be entertained by. That they’re allowed to voice their criticisms like that. It’s my life. And people shouldn’t be privy to every piece of it. I’m a person, damn it.”
God, I hate that Gabe’s looking at me like he did when I was a kid. Like he wants to fix it, like he wants to take my sadness away, but he can’t. That it destroys him inside knowing there’s nothing he can do. But there is.
There always has been.
“Gabe. Leave us. Go check on Mrs. Daniels.” Adam’s voice holds no room for argument.
Gabe hesitates to go, but he does.
The moment he’s out the door, Adam corners me, trapping me against the back of his desk, cupping my face, and examining me more fully than I expected. “You let her get to you.”
His thumb brushes along my cheek, and I feel myself soften, the anger turning into despair. Sadness. The default of my entire life. “She was out of line.”
“She was, but so were you.”
I know that, but it doesn’t change the emotions still rampaging inside of me.
I grab his arms and try to push past him, to get out from under his scrutiny. I’m just so damn tired of this.
Heat spikes through his gaze as he keeps me in place.
One hand finds my waist, squeezing with a veiled threat to spank me again if I keep this up.
Which has me vibrating in place with the duality of incredulity and desire.
I’m about to take charge, to grab him and kiss him and drown in those warm, gooey feelings instead of the sharp, invasive ones.
Greyson appears in the doorway, watching me over Adam’s shoulder. “Gabe is offering Mrs. Daniels a discount package for the next time she wants a vacation close to home. It seems to be mollifying her.”
“Good. Fine.” Adam’s voice is low, borderline dangerous.
Greyson doesn’t run off at the obvious dismissal. “Best if we all get back out there to keep gossip to a minimum. Best to get cleaned up and refocus on post-game activities.”
“I should just go home. It’s obvious the town doesn’t want me here. And if they do, they don’t want me to have fun.” All that heat—the anger and attraction—dissipates, and I deflate. Thank god Adam is holding me up.
“Hey. Is that how you talk to yourself? About yourself? Not the Drew I know.” Greyson steps closer, that determination in his dark eyes I’m far too familiar with. “What did we do when we lost a game? When someone was unsportsmanlike?”
I suck in a breath and stand better on my own, Adam’s grip convulsing before loosening to let me lean on a strength that is all me. “We kill them with kindness.”
“That’s right, so come on. Both of you. Let’s get back out there.”
Fine. I can do this. Adam nods, brushing his hand down my arm before he backs off.
We all step out into the party, and it’s awkward.
But I paste a smile on my face as I make my rounds.
It’s hard at first, but I slowly grow more comfortable.
I ensure that everyone has what they need and end up back at the front desk with Gabe.
He’s moody, brooding.
He’s been tracking my movements through the entire room, watching my interactions with the townsfolk and the visitors alike.
His arms are crossed, golden-brown eyes swirling with anger, sadness, and something else…
I cross my arms and lean against the desk, mimicking him like I did as a child.
“Don’t let him fool you, Drew. Adam doesn’t know you the way I do.”
No. He knows a completely different version of me. And I want to be the kind of Drew I am with all three of them.
This is going to get messy. Messier than it already is.