It hit her square on the back of her neck.
“Jase.” She shimmied about, tipping her snow out of her hood. “Ah, it’s going down my neck.”
“Sorry,” he shouted, not sorry in the least.
Cerys bent down, and before he had time to process what she was doing, one snowball whizzed by the side of his head, and the second hit him straight on the jaw.
He grinned as he grabbed more snow. “Let’s fight, Bexter.”
Cerys laughed and ran, scooping snow off an outdoor storage bin as she moved. Jase attempted to run after her but slowed when he realised it was treacherously slippery in his trainers. He was too busy watching his feet so he didn’t notice she’d waited just around the corner of the property, on the steps leading to the rear patio.
He spluttered as she dumped an armful of snow on his head. As he laughed and brushed the snow out of his hair, she attempted to run past him. “Oh, no you don’t.” He reached out and grabbed her bodily.
“Get off me,” she squealed, wiggling as he took her to the side of the drive. He looked at the pile of shovelled snow and made a choice, hurling the two of them into it.
Holding her safely in his arms, he made sure she didn’t hurt herself as they sank into the snow.
“Jase,” she gasped, his name filled with laughter.
Usually, it was being yelled by someone angry—or worse, disappointed. Or being called out by some random chick he fucked after a gig. But hearing his name said with joy did something to his gut that he couldn’t explain.
Her cheeks were pink, her eyes bright, and he couldn’t resist pressing a soft kiss to her lips, one so brief it was over before he realised what he’d done. Before he did something equally stupid, like kiss her again, he jumped to his feet and offered her his hand, grateful when she took it.
“Make snow angels with me,” he said.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Why not?”
“We aren’t doing ‘It’s Not About You’.”
Cerys looked at Jase, who had abruptly started pacing the studio with his hands over his head. Again. “We don’t have to, as long as you tell me why you don’t like singing it.” She’d felt it on the very first run-through and had found herself thinking about it often.
“Not discussing that with you. Not discussing it at all.”
She tried to compare the man glowering at her now to the man whose lips had brushed hers in the snow just two hours ago. The man who’d fallen asleep cuddling her like a human teddy bear. The more time she spent with him, the more she started to put the real pieces of him together.
“So, talk to me about the lyrics, at least. What’s the inspiration behind them?”
“Let’s do ‘Truth and Anger’.”
Cerys shook her head. “No. You only behave like this when something hurts.”
Jase rolled his eyes. “For fuck’s sake.”
“I’m serious. Remember yesterday when we talked about—”
“Say waves and I’m gone.”
Cerys sighed and raised her hands in surrender. Two steps forward, one step back.
“Fine, it feels like a song about unrequited love.”
Jase huffed, and she stood to walk over to him. He held on to the microphone stand as if it were armour. His shoulders were up near his ears and his lips pursed with annoyance. But his eyes finally met hers. “If that means loving someone you aren’t supposed to be in love with and they don’t know, then it is.”
“Did Matt write it?”
Jase nodded, but there was anguish in his eyes.
“Is that why you don’t like singing it?”
“It’s about Izabel, his . . .”
“His?”
“His girlfriend. And the girl I thought I loved. Whatever.”
Cerys’s heart skipped in her chest.
And the girl I thought I loved.
Loved.
“Past tense?”
Jase wandered over to the wall and slid down to the floor. “It’s a long and painful story, Cerys. But you seem to be a masochist for hearing waves crash through me, so here goes.”
She sat down next to him and hooked her arms around her knees.
“Matt and Luke have been best mates forever. Since being little kids. The kind of friendship forged in fire. Luke’s dad dying, always being skint, having each other’s back in a fight. Probably fucking blood brothers given all the dumb shit they did. And Izabel is Luke’s younger sister.”
“Oh, the frat boy keep-your-hands-off-my-sister thing?”
“Yeah, except I didn’t.”
Cerys turned to face him, a flash of panic racing through her. She’d never have let him sleep next to her on the sofa if she’d known he was dating someone. “She’s your girlfriend?”
Jase shook his head. “No. She isn’t. She’s Matt’s. I thought I was in love with Izabel, once. Fuck. This all sounds so bloody stupid and pathetic when I say it out loud. I thought I was making love to her, but she’s loved my brother for a decade. They finally got together last summer, but I’ve been a dick about it.”
“Did you sleep with her since they got together or before? During?”
“Jesus Christ, Cerys. I’m a douchebag, but not that much of a douchebag. Before. Before they got together. Like, two years ago. Thought I was over it, then the two of them got together. It irritates me singing that song because he wrote it before they got together. And now when I sing it, it feels like it’s about me. I feel like he’s laughing at me when I sing it.”
A quiet jealousy crept through her. Even though it was a while since they’d been together, it felt as though there were still raw emotions there. “Do you still have feelings for Izabel?”
“I thought I did.”
“You thought?”
His eyes met hers, his palm cupped her cheek. “Yeah. As you said. Past tense.”
“How past tense?” she whispered.
“I’ve been thinking about that. I guess I’ve known for a while she was meant for Matt. You can see it when they’re together. I think I’ve just been a sore loser. Like the idea Matt won her love or whatever instead of me.”
“That feels like a wave.”
Jase placed his arm over her shoulder and pulled her to him, sliding his own legs out in front of him. “Yeah. I think it is. You want to know what else? I’m certain it’s past tense.”
“Why?”
“Because I met this girl who’s cheaper than therapy, more effective than drugs and alcohol, prettier than any sunset, and has a heart bigger than the lake outside her father’s cottage. I’ve been challenged on my shit my whole life and yet somehow never faced any of it. I think you’re good for me, Cerys.”
Warmth filled her heart, but her head was still uncertain. “I don’t know if you’re good for me though.”
She felt Jase’s sigh.
“Yeah. I get that. I’m not the safest bet.”
His fingers drew circles on her arm in the quiet.
“And I don’t want to be your rebound.”
He placed a kiss on top of her head. “I don’t want that, either. It’s too long in the past for you to be a rebound. But my brother and her . . . it’s just raw.”