“Anytime.”
Another smile.
Another flutter of my heart.
Stop it.
Nodding, I turn around and go back in the kitchen, which is blessedly empty at this hour. Taking a moment to collect myself, I lean against the door and close my eyes.
What the hell is happening to me?
“Look who the cat finally dragged in!” Callie says as she pats the empty chair next to her, but her eyes are glued to the person over my shoulder. “And you brought company.”
There is a silent question in her statement I don’t miss, but choose to play dumb instead. “You mean Nixon? He was just coming in when I got here.”
The man in question raises his brow mockingly, but says nothing. Hey, it was his idea not to say anything to our friends about what happened, not mine.
“Mm-hmm…” Callie doesn’t look convinced, but thankfully lets it go.
“Where’s Chloe?” I ask, as I sit down and look around the full table. Nixon and I just took the last couple of seats. On the other side of Callie is Hayden talking to Zane, one of his hockey friends that I see around occasionally, and Prescott. That big dude they call the Hulk is on the other side of the table, his girlfriend sitting on his lap, and there are a couple of other football players I don’t know by name sitting around too.
I shake my head at the irony. If only Grace could see me now, she would have a field day.
“Chloe is cramming tonight, she has some kind of test tomorrow she’s freaking out about.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
Chloe is one of those people who thrives when she does things at the very last moment. She’s super smart, and knows random things most people wouldn’t give a damn about, but she’s all about living off of the adrenaline rush.
“That’s Chloe for ya.” Callie shrugs, popping a piece of bread in her mouth. “She’s been having a hard time with Karen.”
“Karen who?” Nixon asks.
“Chloe’s bitchy roommate,” Callie explains.
“Callie!” I chastise her, but she just shrugs.
“Just calling it as I see it.”
She is right though. We tried hanging out with her in the beginning, but Karen’s so completely different from us that after a while we gave up on trying. She’s always looking down her nose at us, and most other people, and cares only about the latest gossip, partying and hot guys.
“What happened now?”
“God only knows. She just said she’s had enough, and she’ll tell us everything during our next girls’ night.”
“That should be interesting,” I mutter, taking a bite of my own dinner.
“What should?” Hayden asks, peeking at us. Callie explains to him what we were talking about, and then we switch to different topics.
I listen with half an ear while the guys discuss hockey season and the chances that the Blairwood team continues to the Frozen Four.
I lift my gaze and find Nixon watching me.
What? I mouth, at which he just shakes his head.
Nothing.
Then why are you staring at me? I want to ask him, but I can’t. Not without raising too many brows in our direction. But seriously, what’s with that? Just minutes ago, he was asking me to keep quiet about what happened, and now he’s openly staring at me in front of all our friends.
“Did you find out what was wrong with your car?” Callie asks, breaking me out of my thoughts.
“What?”
“Your car? What was wrong with it?”
“Starter died,” Nixon supplies, just as he finished chewing.
“Hmm… And you know that how?”
“Because you sent him to get me?” I give her a pointed glare that has her laughing.
“I asked Zane to have a look at it and help me,” Nixon adds.
Zane lifts his head at the mention of his name. “Huh?”
“Thanks for getting my car fixed, Zane,” I say.
“Oh.” He looks at Nixon, and the two exchange a quick glance. I narrow my eyes at them, but it’s gone before I can think too much about it. “Yeah, sure, no problem.”
We chat for a little while longer. I listen to Callie talk about her latest art class at the community center and the idea she got about making a picture book.
“Ready to go?” somebody asks, and most people nod their agreement.
Together we pick up our things and get up. One by one we discard the used trays, and head outside.
The freezing night air blasts in my face, making me shiver. Snow is slowly falling and adding to the pile covering the ground.
I’m seriously ready for spring to come, but so far winter doesn’t seem to be getting any milder.
“So what’re your plans for tonight?” Callie asks, wiggling her brows. “Hot date? Wait, it’s not Tuesday. Do you meet with Mr. Tuesday on any other day?”
I shove her away. “Shut up. I told you it’s not like that.”
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, right.”
“It’s not.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“Studying—I have some reading to catch up on, an essay to write, things like that.”
“Booo… You’re no fun.”
“Says Miss I’m-staying-at-my-boyfriend’s-all-the-time,” I mock and throw in an eye roll for good measure. “Who’re you to talk about fun? You’ve been together for like a month, and you’re already acting like an old married couple.”
“I’ll give you fun, you…”
I don’t see it coming and yet, everything happens as if in slow motion. Callie crouches down, with more agility than I thought possible, and scoops a handful of snow. There is a glint in her eyes as she throws it right at me.
What the hell?
At the last second I manage to dodge it. “Are you insane?”
But Callie’s not looking at me. No, her mouth falls open, and I don’t know if she wants to laugh or freak out. It could be either or none.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, but the chuckle she’s struggling to suppress says she’s anything but.
“Oh man,” Hayden full-on laughs, helping Callie get on her feet.
Turning to look over my shoulder, I find what’s so funny.
Nixon is standing there, wiping the snow off his face. “Now you’ve gone and done it, Cals,” he says slowly, shaking his head.
“Snowball fight!” Emmett booms loudly.
Everything happens at once. One second we’re standing frozen in place, the next people are running around scooping snow in their hands.
Snowballs fly.
I manage to duck another one before I’m hit in the back.
Stumbling, I catch my balance at the last second. Bending down, I scoop a little bit of snow and throw it at Callie, who’s hiding behind Hayden. The ball punches her in the shoulder, forcing her to turn around to look at me.
“It’s all your fault!”
Callie laughs and throws a snowball at me, hitting me in the chest.
“But you’re having fun!”
Her laughter is infectious and I have to admit, she’s right. I don’t remember the last time I just played in the snow like this. Not for years.
I run away from the center of the fight—seriously, these football players are ruthless. They don’t know the meaning of the word “game,” if they’re in, they’re all in and God help the one who comes between them and victory.