by Vivian Lux
But what was it...really? Yeah, he'd embarrassed me a bit in front of my tour, but I was actually more pissed with Marie-the-pink-lady, who'd demanded a full refund once we got back to the vehicle, citing her emotional devastation over her husband's manhood being openly mocked. I noted grimly that her husband had nothing to say about the situation, but ended up just saying fuck it. Rather then try to explain that my best friend was kind of an asshole, I just gave in and let her have the tour for free. It wasn't like I'd done a good job at it anyway.
No, it wasn't that he'd shot his mouth off that had me so furious. That was just Gray being Gray, his usual unfiltered bravado that was alternately amusing and irritating. No, it was something else.
He owed me an apology, there was no getting around that, but for what I couldn't really articulate. I was just pissed at him for...existing, at this point and we probably could use a really good dust-up to clear the air, but he seemed content to stay in his room, with the door shut, only emerging when he heard me open the door to my bedroom. I actually timed it yesterday, shutting the door without going inside. He'd emerged, then stood stock still in his doorway to see me standing there staring at him, and at that moment I thought we were finally going to have it out. But instead he turned and headed right back in again.
But tonight, there was no getting around it. Ma McCabe was in hyper-hostess mode, throwing yet another one of her famous parties that I swore were the only thing that kept this town from dying of boredom in the winter months. Even though the woman was celebrating her anniversary tomorrow, that wasn't enough, and she'd still insisted on having her yearly New Year's Eve celebration, and that meant Gray and I were both coming, no getting around it.
So now we were both getting ready to go to the same party, and that necessitated a lot of jockeying for bathroom space and checking the laundry to make sure that pants had no wrinkles in them. We danced around each other, all twitchy like a couple of scalded cats, until I finally couldn't take it anymore and went to the kitchen to grab a beer.
Only to see the fucking milk carton sitting out on the counter.
"Motherfucker, are you serious?" I exploded, slamming open the fridge door. The whole refrigerator rocked dangerously to the side, sending the glass condiment jars jingling.
Gray appeared in the doorway, wary, his fists clenched, but didn't say a word, which only pissed me off further. "You serious with this shit? Look, watch me, it's not hard. You close the fucking milk carton and then look, look, are you watching? This is the complicated part. You put it back in the motherfucking refrigerator!"
The corner of Gray's mouth twitched up in a snarl for just a moment before it relaxed into a cocky grin I immediately wanted to punch off of his face. "You really are an old woman, you know that?"
"You really are an asshole, you know that?" I shot back.
Gray stared at me like he was shocked by this, and we both kind of stood there for a second.
"What the hell's going on?" I sighed.
Gray shrugged and looked away. "What, you want to talk about your feelings or something? You really are an old woman."
"Fine," I said, slamming the refrigerator door shut. "Fuck you then."
Silence reigned for a second and I started heading back to my bedroom to grab my shirt, half a second away from kicking him bodily out of my house.
Gray was still standing there when I reemerged to find my tie. So apparently the motherfucker did want to talk about feelings like an old woman, which was fucking good because I couldn't stand this silence anymore. "You're in love with Harper, aren't you?" I blurted. It wasn't a fucking question.
Gray looked up, startled, then down at his hands, then back up again, his mouth twisting. He opened it like he was about to say something, then snapped it shut, with tension written all over his face. I felt the breath slowly leaving my body. There it was, out in the open. It was written all over his face. I sagged against my doorframe and was just starting to nod when suddenly Gray burst out, "I'm not going to fuck it up for you," he blurted.
"What?" I asked.
Gray stepped forward, spreading his hands, in an entreaty for peace. "You've been in love with her forever," he said, gesturing toward me.
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Yeah, but I don't want you backing off for me." I stood up straighter and narrowed my eyes, suddenly sure of it. "I can get her on my own."
It was the truth. I'd been holding back all this while for his sake, while the dipshit had been holding off for mine. It was like that stupid short story they made us read in sophomore year of high school, where the guy buys combs for his wife's hair with money he gets from selling his pocket watch, only to come home and find out she sold her hair to buy him a chain for his watch and the whole thing could have been fucking avoided if the two of them had just communicated like fucking adults. We'd been pussyfooting around each other, treating each other with kid gloves.
But now the gloves were off.
Gray stopped moving towards me and stood up straight. The cocky bullshit smile returned to his face, but for some reason this time it didn't make me feel like decking him.
It made me grin back.
"Oh, you think you can get her, do you?" Gray asked skeptically.
I nodded. "I know so."
He grinned wider. "With what? Your tiny dick and fussy old lady ways?"
I wrinkled my nose. "No. I plan on charming her with my supernatural ability to close a fucking milk carton."
Gray folded his arms across his chest and stared at me, and I saw something in his eyes that hadn't been there before. A certain fire. "It's up to her then, huh?"
I nodded slowly. "It's up to her then," I said. Then I extended my hand. "May the best man win."
Gray clasped my hand and grinned. "Thank you," he said, pumping it up and down.
"No, thank you," I declared. And as I shook his hand, I felt some of the tension in the house release. It was up to her.
And tonight I was going to make sure the best man won.
Chapter Fifteen
Grayson
It seemed like everyone had already arrived. Cars were parked all along the driveway, front wheels on the grass, and all the close spots were taken.
Cal looked at me. I looked at him. "Best man's gonna win," I said, extending my hand.
He sniffed and switched off the ignition. We both sat there for a microsecond.
And then I lifted both middle fingers before throwing open the door.
Cal's door slammed and I heard his feet pounding on the gravel as he raced to catch up with me.
"Too slow," I jeered, walking a little faster.
I heard his feet pounding on the gravel. "Never!" Cal laughed.
"Motherfuck—" I started jogging.
He came up on my left side and I threw out my arm. "Are you fucking serious?" he panted. "Throwing elbows?"
"Did I break your hip, old lady?" I asked.
He responded with a hard shoulder check, sending me staggering to the side. I swore and regained my footing, then broke out in a dead run. Cal played football in high school because his dad could afford the equipment, but you don't need much equipment for track, so that was my sport. He was good at short sprints, but distances were my area of expertise and we both knew it, which was why were suddenly both running, full tilt, a flat-out sprint the two hundred yards to the McCabe's front door.
"You're gonna lose!" I called. He looked back with an arrogant grin and then leaped onto the front porch. But he'd misjudged the distance and only caught the edge of it with the ball of his foot. He stumbled backward just as I slammed into him, propelling us both onto the welcome mat, where we stopped, breathing hard, before jostling and jockeying for position to ring the doorbell.
And after all that, it wasn't even Harper who answered the fucking door.
Everett stood there, wearing a suit and tie like he was born in it, and an expression of pure confusion on his face. "What the hell are you doing ringing the doorbell?" he asked. "I don't thin
k you guys have ever done that in your lives."
I looked at Cal, who looked down at his feet. We both knew why. We are both hoping to get to Harper first. 'May the best man win' apparently extended to foot races in the driveway. But now that Rett was here, we had to play it cool. Because even though we'd reached an agreement about how things were going to go in our quest for Harper's heart, neither one of us had the balls to inform Rett of that agreement.
For the second time in a week, I walked into the McCabe's new place and felt that strange frission about it no longer being the same. The cabin down by the gully had been a second home to me, and there was no way I was ever going to be able to recapture that feeling in this new place. Time passed, things changed, and we'd never be the same three scruffy-headed, skinned-knee group of maniacs tearing around the woods.
That feeling made me feel strangely melancholy.
But once again, the appearance of Mrs. McCabe, who immediately starting clucking over us — straightening Cal's tie and muttering about the crease on my pants — made me feel right at home again.
"How's it going, Gray?" she asked me, her green eyes just like Harper's searching my face. "Rett tells me you have an interview the day after tomorrow. It's okay if you can't make it to our vows ceremony, that's much more important. You might need the time to prepare."
I leaned over and kissed her on her cheek. "Nothing is more important than seeing your vow renewal," I reassured her. "I'll be able to do both, I promise."
She started saying something else, worried and fretting, but I was distracted by the faint whiff of Harper's shampoo. She wasn't in the room, but her scent drifted by on the breeze.
Callum looked up, then turned to stare at me meaningfully. He wasn't trapped under Mrs. McCabe's worried clucking, so he was free to go follow that scent. As I was reassuring Mrs. McCabe that yes, I was excited about my new prospect, he sidled off into the living room, leaving me trapped. I clenched my fist as I assured Mrs. McCabe that yes, I would make sure to tell them that my greatest flaw was my perfectionism, when I heard Harper's laugh float in from the living room, followed quickly by the low rumble of Cal saying something. Harper laughed even harder, and I felt my stomach twist in a knot. Bastard wasn't playing fair, not at all.
"Ma, I'm going to be fine, don't you worry," I declared, clutching her hands. She looked mildly startled at my sudden interruption, but I ignored it and kept talking. "I need to go run in and check something about the tree I brought over, okay?"
Her eyes widened. "Oh dear, is there something wrong?" she asked, hands fluttering near her mouth.
I fixed her with the baleful glance. "Gosh I hope not," I said. "But just to be sure..." I was backing out of the room as Mrs. McCabe made worried sounds with her mouth. I felt bad about appealing to her anxieties that way, but it was the only way I was going to make sure that the best man truly did win.
Cal had maneuvered Harper over to the couch, sitting way too close to her for my liking.
So, of course, I went right over and plucked my ass down next to her.
"What are you drinking tonight?" I asked her, nudging her with my knee.
She flipped her gaze up to me, and for a second I remembered what a jerk I'd been the last time she saw me. I turned the corners of my mouth down. Great Aunt Hilda had once accused me of using my puppy dog eyes to get away with murder, and she wasn't wrong. "I'm trying to make amends," I told Harper mournfully.
She rolled her eyes and laughed. "You two are collectively a piece of work," she sighed, leaning over and picking up pieces of fuzz off the sofa.
That was a little better. At least she was acknowledging both of us. "Oh come on, you've known this forever," I reminded her.
"I have." She nodded.
"And you've always known that Gray has a touch of the douche in him," Cal piped up.
I shot him a murderous glance. "There's a lot of room for it, since there’s no stick up my ass," I reminded him.
"Guys," Harper said sternly. "Let's not have a repeat of the Falls."
I leaned back. "Of course. I'm going to be on my best behavior tonight."
Harper looked at me quizzically. "I don't think I've ever seen that before," she deadpanned.
I laughed. "Well played," I told her. "You actually have, though. Remember when I needed to hide out at your old place when my dad was being a shit head? You guys let me live with you for three weeks and I promise you, I was on my best behavior."
Harper's eyes softened as she remembered.
But Cal, of course, interjected smoothly. "I remember there being a tragedy involving a piece of stained glass and a hockey puck," he reminded me. "Is that your best behavior?"
I opened my mouth to protest, but Harper raised her hand guiltily. "No, that was actually me," she said, wincing. "Gray took the fall for me, though."
I nodded. "I figured your mother would get less mad at the guest," I said.
Harper turned to face me full on. "Thank you for that by the way. Did I ever actually thank you for doing that?"
Mentally I marked the scoreboard, Grayson - 1, Callum - 0. I shrugged. "Nah, but you were just a little kid back then."
"Kid sister," she's said, sighing. "I know. Seems to be my lot in life." She leaned back and stretched and as her hands lowered back down again, they came to rest in two different places.
One of those places was on my thigh, and that place still burned from her touch on Christmas.
The other one came to rest on Cal's upper arm.
I didn't even have time to be jealous, because the way her fingers sank into my skin, it was like her touch was connected right to my dick. "When are you leaving?" I blurted.
"Day after New Year's," she said, and I swear her fingers twitched, holding on to my thigh just a little bit tighter.
Two days, that's all I had. And I had to have her, before she left again. There was no way I could let her go without getting her into my bed. No matter what.
Chapter Sixteen
Harper
I'd downed three whiskeys, neat, before they arrived, but didn't feel a thing. Now, with my hands on each of them, I felt drunker then I ever thought possible.
I took a deep breath. "Guys," I breathed, closing my eyes. "I've had a little too much to drink. Can we go out onto the deck?"
I thought it would be easier once we were all on our feet and our bodies were no longer touching, but they stayed pressed against me — Grayson with his hand on the small of my back, Callum with his arm linked with mine — as we made our way to the vast back deck that overlooked the snow-covered lawn. My dizziness only increased having them so close to my body.
Cal pushed the French doors open, but the blast of chilly air did nothing to cool the heat in my body. All at once I was back on my parents' guest bed, screaming out another frustrated orgasm with my head buried in the pillow. They needed to stop touching me. I didn't want them to stop touching me.
I stalked out onto the deck and leaned against the railing, and for a moment, I just looked out into the black. There were a few faint lights twinkling like far-off stars through the trees. The inky black of the woods surrounding my parents' new place formed a humped, black silhouette against the indigo of the sky. A close to full moon was as white as the snow on the ground and gave everything around us an ethereal blue glow.
I took a deep breath of the cold, silent air, hoping it would quiet the storm inside of me, but it only raged harder as Cal and Gray moved to either side of me.
"Well look at that," Cal murmured. "Good timing, Harper."
I looked in the direction he was looking. Off in the distance, in the bowl of the valley, right where the dark reflection of the water met the lighter gray of the shoreline, a single firework rose upward.
It burst into an explosion of color. Red flowers bloomed in the night sky, quickly followed by a jagged green streak, and then a yellow flash just as bright as the sunflowers in the farm below us.
I gasped. "Oh my God, of course! I had no idea that y
ou'd be able to see the town fireworks from up here, but you totally can!"
Just then we all ducked as an explosion lit up right over our heads.
"Oh shit!" Cal laughed. "The neighbors are joining in!"
"That's awesome," Gray said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the railing.
Without realizing it, I shifted my toes, moving slightly closer to him. His body was so warm, so incredibly warm, that the heat seemed to melt right through me, suffusing me right down to my very core. Then Cal leaned forward, and his forearm brushed up against mine. I felt a brush of something electric, and looked down to see that the fine, crisp hairs of his forearm were tickling me, sending goose bumps in a parade right up to the nape of my neck.
I looked out, trying like hell to concentrate on the magical sparkles in the sky all around us, but when the last color drained from the sky, Cal leaned into my sight. "Happy New Year, Harp," he murmured.
I kissed him.
I expected it to be a light kiss, playful, a kiss that just defused the tension, something joking and happy, and fuck it, friendly.
But it was nothing like that.
As soon as my lips touched his, he made a sound and suddenly I knew this wasn't a game anymore. Cal's lips were rough against mine, insistent, and demanding. He kissed me like he wanted to take control, sweeping his tongue into my mouth and prodding away my inhibitions. I felt my breath catch in my throat as a swirling tornado of confusion whirled around me, I pulled back, startled, then looked over to Gray who was staring at both of us, stricken.
Then I kissed him.
Who was I? What kind of girl did this? Kissing one man, and then another as the echo of fireworks rolled around the Valley. I had no idea. I had no idea who I was or what I was doing. As the neighbors let off another volley of thunder, I paid no mind. All I knew was that Grayson's lips were soft against mine, his kiss much more gentle and sweet than Cal's. He cupped my chin in his hand, tilting my head to the side so that he could deepen the kiss, and as I melted against him, I didn't want there to be anything wrong with this because it felt so, so right.
