I wouldn’t doubt that.
“Yeah, he would come over to our house and brag about banking another twenty from his brothers for not tattling. I mean”—I shrug—“you have to hand it to him: he knew how to mine his brothers for cash and did it well.”
“Ahh, you’re just saying that because you’ve always had a crush on him,” Harper says with a wave of her hand.
“I don’t have a crush on Reid. He’s one of my good friends. And yeah, he’s hot; I would be stupid to say he isn’t, but we’re just friends.” That might be a lie, but we won’t go there right now.
“That’s what they always say.” Harper bumps my shoulder with hers just as Rogan comes through the door. “Gah, look at him. That jawline, God, I just want to nip at it.”
Rogan scans the room. When he spots Harper, his face immediately lights up, and he makes his way to his girl.
I’m not going to lie—having someone in my life who would look at me like that, like I’m the center of his universe, it wouldn’t be the worst thing. I’ve dated here and there but never had anything too serious. I haven’t had much time, especially when I was taking care of my parents, and now that I’m finishing up my degree, any and all romance has been put on hold—and I’m okay with it.
But there’s one thing I wish I had—the companionship, the intimacy my parents once shared. I always admired how deeply in love they were and thought I’d have the same kind of relationship. I know, I know, I’m young, and there’s still plenty of time, but that doesn’t make me want it any less. And I guess I get some companionship with Reid, but intimacy—not so much. Yeah, he flirts and talks about my ass probably too often, but I know what I am to him: his best friend’s sister, the girl he grew up with, pulling on her pigtails and pushing her into rain puddles. He’s treated me more like his tomboy friend than he’s ever treated me like a woman, and that’s fine, because that’s our relationship. At least that’s the way everyone in town, including him, sees our relationship. But deep down—so deep I can barely admit it to myself—I’ve been harboring a crush on that boy for as long as I can remember.
Rogan bends at the waist and presses a slow, languid kiss against Harper’s lips. I stare, though I feel a bit like a creeper, watching as their hands lightly caress each other, as he whispers something into her ear that makes her cheeks flush, and as he groans quietly when she plays with the small hairs on the nape of his neck. They’re in love, so much in love that it does make me a little envious.
Living in a small town where the only new people are tourists makes it pretty difficult to meet someone, and since I’ll be earning my degree soon, I’ll finally have some free time on my hands. Maybe it’s time I join one of those dating apps Brig’s always gushing about, despite never having much luck.
After giving his bride-to-be a lot of attention, Rogan directs those Knightly blue eyes at me. “Hey, Eve, how are you?” It’s not a generic statement—there’s feeling behind his question, actual concern, and I truly appreciate it. I might not have a family here in town, but my second family is just as good.
“Doing okay. I’m about to head out, actually, up to the Inn to check on some things.”
“Want a ride?”
I shake him off. “That’s out of your way.”
“It’s not a problem at all, gives some time for Harper to sober up a little bit.”
“I don’t need to sober up! I’m the perfect mix of coherent and loose.”
Rogan chuckles and takes Harper by the hand, pulling her to her feet and wrapping his arm around her waist. “Let’s get you home. Come on, Eve. It’s no problem. Plus Walter is on a warpath tonight—you don’t want an Uber ride from him.”
I never want a ride from either of the two—yes, two—Uber drivers in town, but walking in this weather isn’t an option either, so I take Rogan up on his offer.
It takes a few minutes not only to say bye to everyone and explain why I’m leaving but also to get Harper in the car. She keeps dancing with everyone she hugs goodbye and awkwardly thrusting her hips into Rogan’s leg. When we finally make it outside, the snow is really starting to fall, so she plops herself down in Rylee’s yard and starts doing snow angels.
Good luck tonight, Rogan. I’m not sure he’s going to be able to wrangle her the way he wants.
Once in the car with everyone buckled, Rogan takes it slow on the freshly snow-covered streets.
“It has to be at least six inches already,” Rogan says, the car barely moving forward.
I furrow my brow as I look out the window. “I can walk. You don’t have to drive up the hill.”
“He’s a pro, aren’t you?” Harper says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t worry, we got you. In the meantime, why don’t you tell Rogan about how his brother surprised you.”
“Who? Reid?” Rogan asks, eyes trained on the road, hands at ten and two.
“Yeah, he met her at the cemetery without even being asked. Wasn’t that sweet?”
“He’s always been considerate when it comes to the Roberts. Our family, on the other hand”—he chuckles—“it’s like he was put on this earth to make our lives difficult.”
“Don’t let him fool you—he makes my life difficult most of the time too, except for today.” I stare out the window as large, quarter-size snowflakes rapidly fall from the sky. “Today he was exactly what I needed—a friend.”
“He has his moments. I’m glad he was there for you.” Rogan clears his throat. “Eric wasn’t able to make it into town?”
“No, couldn’t get off work, and honestly, I don’t think he even tried.”
Instead of digging deeper into the complexity that is Eric, Rogan says, “Going to the Inn? Not to your apartment?”
“To the Inn. Just going to check on a few things, make sure the place is still standing, and then walk to my apartment.” It’s just a street away from the Inn, so it won’t be a big deal. “Kind of hoping Karaoke Night is still going on. Kevin Yodel swore he would be there, and that guy puts on a show.”
“Shit, Kevin is something else,” Rogan says. “Babe, we should go in and see if he’s performing. He has this whole Elvis impersonation that will have you keeling over in laughter.”
“I thought we were going to do the counter sex.” Harper pouts. “If you make me watch Kevin, I can’t guarantee I won’t pass out.”
I pat Rogan on the shoulder. “You don’t want to miss out on that counter sex.”
“Yeah, I sure as shit don’t. We’ll catch the next one.”
KARAOKE CANCELED.
Figures.
Not wanting to be alone in my apartment on one of the loneliest days of my life, I decided to stop at the Inn, see if they needed any help, maybe catch a song or two from some of Port Snow’s finest.
I stare at the sign on the door that leads to the Inn’s bar. Instead of locals hitting up the mic with some of the worst voices you’ll ever hear, they’ve lit up the karaoke area with multicolored flashing lights and a tiny disco ball that doesn’t even spin. Over the speakers, dance music plays, bumping and thumping loudly against the walls, setting a club-like mood.