2. Present Day – Christmas Eve
2
PRESENT DAY – CHRISTMAS EVE
SCOTT
‘ P leased you’re here, man.’ My brother, Nate, claps me on the back and forces a glass of something into my hand.
‘Place is looking good.’ I nod as I take in the impressive space — the tall ceiling and exposed beams of my brother’s latest venture.
I’m delighted he pulled his head out of his arse and accepted a position here at The Wreck with his best friend, Chunk. He’s been much happier since he quit working with me at the pub. This place is much more his vibe: an outdoor activity centre, complete with paintballing, high ropes, and now a refurbished barn for events, among other things. They’ve worked hard on this place and a lot has changed since I was last here.
‘Thanks for coming out, dude. Wasn’t sure you’d make it.’
‘The Bull’s in safe hands — I’ve left Enzo in charge. He assures me he’s got tonight covered, but I’m gonna get back in time for last orders — close up for him so he’s not home too late. It is Christmas Eve, after all.’
He opens up his hands. ‘And here I thought you were Scrooge.’
My eyes narrow into a habitual scowl. ‘You gonna give me a tour? Show me where I can put this?’ I hold up the bottle of rum I’ve brought.
‘Let’s go.’ He half turns, jerking his chin to the side.
I catch sight of Chunk, larger than life in his red Santa suit, and I shake my head with equal disbelief and humour. Guy might be stacked, but he doesn’t need to wander round shirtless in the middle of December, does he?
Despite his exuberance, I like Chunk, although I don’t know him that well. I do know he’s a good influence on Nate. He put a roof over his head when crashing with me wasn’t working out. He’s given him work. He seems to give sound advice. And he’s always invited me to his Christmas party. Every year for as long as I can remember, he invites anyone who might be at a loose end on Christmas Eve.
I scan the crowd. Maybe Josie will be here.
My heart throws out a punch as the thought floats through my head for at least the twentieth time.
Nope.
Bad Scott.
Maybe Josie will be here, as a friend . It’d be nice to see my friend Josie, who is very much a friend.
Fuck. I’ve gotta get my head straight on this.
I’d told her I wanted to be friends. We’d agreed.
But friendship doesn’t leave you feeling like your guts have been shredded.
She is completely off-limits. So far off-limits she may as well be in a different dimension.
And, I try to reason, she’s too young for me.
No. Thou shall not covet thy best friend’s little sister. This is an entirely moot point — I can never, ever, get permission from Marcus. And it’s bro code, isn’t it? Some things endure.
Trouble was, I hadn’t realised who she was at first, not with her Halloween costume and several years of growing up, taking her from awkward teenager to all woman. The woman of my dreams, in fact.
But, scumbag that I am, I don’t deserve dreams.
We lap the room, dropping off the rum, and Nate fills me in on his and Chunk’s plans for the place. We come to a stop at the back, looking over the throng of people laughing and smiling, not a care in the world. I lean against the barn’s rough wall, watching the mayhem.
‘There’s my girl.’ Nate beams the cute-kid smile he’s been pulling out since he was a toddler.
But this time, he isn’t popping his dimples to try to get his way. No, it’s a genuine smile of pure joy. I follow his stare and see Ella being smothered by Chunk’s good looks and welcoming embrace.
And next to her, Josie .
Shit.
She did come.
My grip stiffens on my glass as Chunk turns to greet Josie, dropping a peck on her cheek. Easy dude, my lips were there first .
I give a long blink to get rid of that notion. She isn’t mine. When I open my eyes, he’s moved back, and, now I can see her clearly, breathing becomes almost impossible.
She looks like an angel, even without the costume. Her hair is a white-fading-to-baby-pink cascade, trailing over what I know is incredibly soft and dewy skin. A fluffy cream jumper sits off her shoulders, hugging around her arms and pulled tight over her curves, like a teddy bear and a wet dream rolled into one.
I don’t deserve dreams, I remind myself, sucking in some air.
‘C’mon.’ Before I can argue, Nate’s set off in their direction and I reluctantly follow.
Tonight is going to be hard.
Fuck, it’s going to be hell.
Nate ensnares Ella in a bear hug from behind, and I set my untouched drink down and hover awkwardly off to the side. Ella giggles, only noticing me as she turns to face him.
‘Oh, hi, Scott. Didn’t know you’d be here.’ Ella forces the lamest smile and I can tell that she hates me.
Join the queue.
‘Hi,’ I say to the group and offer an only slightly less lame smile in response.
My eyes slide to Josie’s and then dart away again as soon as possible. Those eyes. The first thing I’d seen from behind her mask at the Halloween party. They're almost an aqua blue, the way they shine in the lights from the Christmas decorations.
I suppress a grin, the muscles of my jaw twitching. Maybe not the first thing I’d seen; there’d been that slip of material covering her body under the guise of an angel costume as well.
She is my angel.
I dip my gaze down to avoid saying or doing anything that I shouldn’t. A mistake, as now I can see a glimpse of Josie’s creamy skin through a rip in her jeans. My lips tingle with the velvety memory of trailing my mouth over her. Not daring to breathe in case that tingle spreads anywhere else, I hold my breath until my chest burns.
I’m getting worked up over a sliver of knee?
What am I?
Fucking Victorian?
I let their words wash over me. I just need to stand here and nod politely for a bit longer, then make my excuses and leave.
There’s laughter, a deep manly chuckle from Chunk and giggles from the others. It’s good that he’s here, to break the tension. And that there’s Nate and Ella as buffers, on standby to neutralise any potentially hazardous reactions.
I grind my molars and try to keep my breaths calm and even.
I can get through this.
And this tension, this feeling of trying to swim out of a blackhole, it’ll get easier, won’t it?
I’m not following the conversation, too busy trying not to stare at Josie while simultaneously desperate to stare at Josie. But suddenly, Chunk’s leading Nate and Ella off. Away. And I’m left staring right at her, and she’s staring right back.
No buffers.
‘So … how are you?’ I stammer.
Smooth.
‘Great, thanks.’ She grabs at a bottle of vodka and hastily pours out a shot. She’s about to down it when she catches herself. ‘You want one?’
‘No, thanks, I’m driving. Gotta get back to the pub before closing.’
She’s sunk hers before I’ve even finished talking.
Swiping at her lip with her thumb, she pauses a moment. Probably trying not to react to the searing alcohol burning its way down her throat.
We swap awkward conversation for another minute and I try to keep cool. Like it’s okay we’re just friends. Like I’m not looking at how beautiful she is. Like I’m not remembering what’s under that dress. Like the giddy lightness I feel when she smiles isn’t enough to make me levitate.
It’s a relief when Chunk comes back. He spots the shot glass Josie’s holding. ‘You started without me! What’s your poison?’
‘I’m not fussy.’ She shrugs as if the drink was purely to get through our awkward interchange. I know that feeling.
‘Let’s try a bunch, see which is best.’
My relief is short-lived once I notice Josie’s gaze lingering on Chunk’s chest. Man is ripped.
A kind of sleepy beast rouses and grumbles inside me, and it’s not just protective instincts on behalf of Marcus.
I need to get my thoughts in check. I’d told her there couldn’t be an us, so of course she’ll look elsewhere. Chunk is a good guy, from what I can tell. They should have my blessing.
Should.