by J. M. Paul
“No,” I say in a firm tone.
“So, it’s settled then.” Connor slaps the bar before he walks away.
Thanksgiving Curse
I’m still not sure how it happened, but I find myself in Detroit on Thanksgiving morning, tailgating before the Lions traditional football game. A band marching down Woodward, playing “Holly Jolly Christmas,” is the backdrop as I watch Connor and Trey play a game of beer pong with two guys I don’t know. I’m not friends with any of these people, except Cami.
The atmosphere is loud, rowdy, and excited. People are milling about everywhere, decked out in Lions gear, Christmas sweaters, or pilgrim costumes. A mass amount of bodies are crowded around the streets, trying to catch a glimpse of America’s Thanksgiving Parade. The parents look tired but happy; the children look overjoyed and overly energized by the prospect of seeing Santa on his sleigh.
The group I’m with is in a fenced-in parking lot, trying to ignore the family festivities taking part elsewhere by partying with hoots and hollers. The air is crisp but unseasonably warm for late November, the scent of hot dogs, peanuts, and beer heavy around us.
“So, what’s your story, Lunar?” Trey asks when he stops next to me after he and Connor lose the game.
“Lunar?” I raise my brows. “Wrong chick, dude. The name’s Noel.”
My attention roams the unruly group of twenty-somethings until it lands on Connor. He’s laughing while surrounded by three girls. One of them is Cami. She ditched me almost as soon as we got here. Connor’s wearing that stupid stuffed turkey hat again. His expression is loose and happy, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. And why should he? He’s hot, he’s young, and he has every girl eating out of his hands, except for me.
Ha! At least I have that.
“I know your name, but I like Lunar better.” Trey gives me what I assume is his panty-dropping grin, and his eyes dive south of my neck.
“Then, become a selenologist and study the moon, hotshot, not my girls.” I sip my lukewarm coffee.
“Girls?” He peers around me with a smirk. “I only see one of you. Or are we talking about your multiple personalities?”
I shoot daggers out of my eyes at him but can’t stop the corner of my lip from quirking upward. “The man’s got jokes, people.”
“Oh, Lunar, we’re just getting started.” He tugs on a lock of my hair that isn’t covered by my beanie.
Trey and I shoot the shit, laughing and zinging one-liners at each other for quite a while. I realize he’s a pretty cool guy.
Thirty minutes later, and I think we’re best friends. Or maybe that line of thinking has something to do with the hard seltzer water Trey shoved in my hand. Whatever it is, I’m going with it because I’m actually enjoying myself.
“Noles! Get your ass over here,” Cami calls to me from a few feet away.
Trey and I are laughing hysterically at our commentary of the people walking by on their way into the game. We’re not being overly mean, but we’re definitely being inappropriate, which is probably why we can’t stop cackling like two adolescents.
“My ass is fine where it’s at,” I yell back.
“Your ass is more than fine, Journal Girl,” Connor growls in my ear when he steps next to me.
I ignore him and the tingling feeling his murmured words ignite in my nether regions. I nudge my chin toward two severely drunken girls staggering down the street, arm in arm.
“Who do you think will face-plant first?” I ask Trey.
Before he can answer, Connor steps between us. He hands Trey a beer and switches out my almost-gone hard seltzer for a fresh one.
Accommodating he is.
“We’re chugging before we head to the game. You down?” Connor asks us.
“Hell yeah.” Trey gulps the rest of the beer he was nursing and throws the empty in the back of the SUV we’re standing by.
“I don’t chug,” I say.
“No wonder you’re still single.” Trey flashes me a salacious grin.
I flip him the bird. Trey and Connor laugh.
“Who said I was single?” I arch a brow.
The smiles fall off their faces.
“You are single, so stop being a tease, Noles.” Cami stumbles into me, and I reach out to steady her. She giggles and rests her head on my shoulder.
“You’re so pretty.” She pets my hair, and I know she’s drunk.
“CC, please. Don’t embarrass me,” I mock scold and then smirk. “We all know, I’m freaking smokin’.”
“Mmm.” She lifts her head. “I heart you, Noles, and you’re yummy, but you’re not my kind of yummy. Now, these two”—she waves in Connor and Trey’s direction—“are as hot as sin and definitely something I can sink my teeth into.”
“I bet you’ve done a hell of a lot more than sink your teeth into them—and probably at the same time,” I say shrewdly.
The quick shock that passes between Connor and Trey tells me I’ve hit the mark.
Gross.
Somewhere deep inside, an ache named jealousy starts to rear its ugly head. I couldn’t care less about Cami and Trey, but that newly discovered morsel of information flips things onto a new level. It tells me Cami’s been keeping risqué secrets from me when we used to share everything, and these three are way out of my league.
“Don’t be so brash, Noles.” Cami playfully smacks my butt. “Come on, let’s go chug-a-lug.” She pulls me toward the group gathering a couple of feet away, and Connor and Trey follow.
The guys slam their beers and finish before us girls are even halfway through our drinks.
They start to chant, “Chug it, chug it.”
I only make it through two-thirds of my drink before I give up. This lightweight can’t swim in the big kids’ drinking pool—even when I wear floaties.
“Phew.” I reach out to steady myself and grab the firm bicep of the person standing next to me.
“It’s the carbonation. Goes straight to your head.” Connor crouches to my level. “You okay?”
“My head’s still attached to my body, but should I be concerned that there are two of you?” I squint one eye to try to focus on his beautiful face. My attention gets stuck on his succulent lips, and I wonder how they would feel against mine. Pretty damn good I expect.
Connor’s mouth spreads into a smile, his lips beckoning me. I bend toward the beauty … and then lose my balance to the carbonated alcohol zinging through my system.
“Whoa.” He places his hands on my shoulders. “Do you need to sit?” his pretty lips ask.
I tighten my hold on his bicep and then squeeze a couple of more times, moving my hand up and down his arm. “You’re very hard and … big.”
Connor chokes out a laugh. “That’s what all the ladies say.”
My brows pinch together as my gaze seeks his. Jade eyes full of humor and satisfaction gaze back at me.
“What?” I think back to what I said. My mouth pops open, and my eyes widen. “Oh shit.”
Connor chuckles.
“I’m such an idiot.” I squeeze my lids closed and shake my head.
“No, you just say whatever’s on your mind.” He brushes my hair over my shoulder, and I open my eyes. “I like that you’re thinking about how hard and big I am, Journal Girl.” He leans forward and says in a raspy voice, “It makes me even harder and bigger.”
I know he’s doing it to tease me, but it’s still sexy as hell.
“You’re such an ass.” I push him back and smack his shoulder.
“Now, you’re thinking about my ass? Get your head out of the gutter, woman.” His dimples dent his cheeks.
I start to retort with a sassy comment, but my words fall short as something in the crowd behind Connor captures my interest. I’m not sure what drew my attention in that direction—intuition?—but when my eyes connect with hauntingly familiar chocolate-brown eyes, I lose all sense of anything around me.
Our gazes stay locked as my body, my spirit, sparks to life at the s
heer nearness of him. It’s like I’ve been missing a part of myself until this moment. His closeness clicks something back into place inside my chest because I’ve been grasping at his shadow for what seems like an eternity.
My Nicholas.
“Noel?” Connor’s voice sounds muffled through the roaring in my ears.
He’s changed—gotten bigger, buffer, rougher around the edges. A lot of effort has gone into altering his appearance—spiked platinum-blond hair and piercings in his nose and eyebrow—but we’re branded to the other in the most potent way. Nothing can sever our bond—except possibly death.
“Noel? Are you okay?” Connor’s voice is growing more concerned, the longer I remain frozen in place, locked in the sight of memorable brown eyes.
Nicholas nods in my direction as a greeting. I start to step around Connor to go to him. Nicholas’s attention breaks from mine and frantically darts to the rowdy group of people standing by him. When he turns back to me, he shakes his head once, discreetly but firmly. He doesn’t want me to come.
Something claws at my ribs before it feels like my insides completely twist together.
“Noel, what’s going on?” Connor turns, searching the large crowd for whatever has upset me. He twists back in my direction, confusion written on his features.
A tough girl in leather with black hair and too much makeup wraps her arm around Nicholas’s waist. The group he’s standing with moves in until he’s swallowed by the crowd, breaking our visual link. And, just as quickly as he crashed back into my life, he’s gone.
It’s hard to breathe, and my eyes sting with tears I desperately try to fight back. This is not the place to lose myself. My feelings and thoughts will have to be dealt with later—when I’m alone. It’s been almost four years since Nicholas disappeared, and today of all days—Thanksgiving—he suddenly reappears. Exactly two years to the date of the day my life changed drastically again.
“Hey, hey.” Connor cups my cheeks and turns my head to him. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” His thumbs rub against my chilled skin. “Tell me what’s wrong. How can I help? What can I do?”
I stare, unblinking, into Connor’s caring eyes. His hands are so warm, so soft, and I want more of that. My body, my soul, needs comforting, and I don’t care if it’s at the mercy of a boy I know is off-limits and could completely steal and shred my heart.
“Hug me,” I plead.
It’s been so long since someone’s wrapped me in their arms and let me be. To allow me to suck comfort from them to infuse around my cracks, into the parts of me that have been severed and might possibly never heal.
Connor’s strong biceps circle around me and pull me to his chest. I rest my ear against his heart, and its steady beat slowly eases my tense muscles. When he kisses the top of my head, I melt into his warmth as moisture pools in my eyes. Until this moment, I didn’t realize how horribly I’d missed being hugged. Humans are communicative by nature, but there are many different ways to communicate—sound, vision, smell. They are all important, but physical contact—touch—is the only form that will soothe me out of the shock I’m in.
Our embrace lasts a long time, considering we’re in the middle of a packed parking lot, surrounded by hordes of people.
Allowing myself another minute, I inhale deeply to ingrain Connor’s scent in my memory. He smells of soap, laundry detergent, peppermint, beer, and something uniquely him. His fragrance softens my insides and makes me long for things to be different between us.
If only I had found him first.
The thought startles me and makes me pull away from him.
I adjust the beanie on my head and give Connor a tentative smile, which is nothing like me but I’m feeling vulnerable.
“You okay now?” Connor asks.
I nod.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I shake my head.
“What do you need, Noel?”
I don’t realize I’m shivering until Connor zips my coat all the way up. My trembling has nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with seeing Nicholas.
Connor lifts my chin for me to look at him. His eyes soften and are dipped in compassion and understanding. He barely knows me; he has no idea what I’ve been through, yet he’s here, comforting me, and it’s exactly what I need. The expression he wears communicates so much that I don’t want to read in my best friend’s lover’s eyes. It’s all too much to handle—Connor, Nicholas, what this holiday represents. I feel like I’m unraveling from the inside. If I don’t pull myself back together, I will completely lose what I’ve worked so hard to repair over the last several years.
“I need—”
“There you two are. What are you doing, hiding over here by yourself?” Cami asks.
Connor and I break apart as if we were doing something wrong. We didn’t step over the friendship line, but the feelings zinging between us are alive and real and intense. I’ve never felt such an instant connection with anyone, and I didn’t believe it really happened outside of books.
Cami bumps her hip against mine, and I force myself to completely change my mood.
Fake it till you make it.
“Discussing your awesomeness.” I thump her back with my hip. “You’re the center of our universe, CC.” I flash a sarcastic smirk even though I don’t need to. She’s used to my character quirks by now.
“Of course I am.” She winks. “Come on, the crew’s ready to head in. I hear we have an entire suite.” Her face lights up.
“That’s sweet that we have a suite,” I say.
Cami laughs at my lame joke.
Before Cami pulls me away, I turn my head back toward Connor. He’s watching me with a forlornness that squeezes at my chest. I give him a sad smile as Cami drags me back over to the rest of the group.
I’m standing at the edge of our crowd, waiting for everyone to put their tailgating gear away, when Connor walks into the middle.
“Hey, guys! Listen up!” Connor turns in a circle. “Make sure you hit me up before you head toward the stadium. I have everyone’s tickets.” He waves his arm in the air with a fan of paper grasped in his hand. “There are free drinks and food in the suite, but feel free to roam the premises if you want. We’re kind of secluded from everything but the game once we’re up there. But I did mention free drinks, right?” He grins when a few people cheer and whistle.
While everyone gathers in a line to get their tickets, I visit the porta potty one last time. When I exit, there are only a few stragglers left in the fenced parking lot.
“Hey,” I say when I approach Connor.
He’s talking to an older guy I don’t recognize. He’s not part of the group we came with.
“Hey.” Connor smiles at me and then turns back to the older guy. “You coming tomorrow, Reggie?”
“Yeah, man. I wouldn’t miss it,” the guy says.
“Cool.” Connor pats the guy on the back, and they do some manly handshake thing.
When the older guy walks away, Connor wraps his arm around my shoulders and starts to lead us in the direction of Ford Field.
“I didn’t want you to get left out here, alone.” He hands me my ticket.
“Yeah, thanks for that. Lord only knows what kind of trouble I’d cause if I were left to my own devices in a large crowd.” I smirk.
“I’m sure the guys around here would be more than willing to help you in your time of need.” His green eyes roam the masses of people making their way into the game.
“I’m an independent, self-sufficient woman. Who says I need their help with anything?” I pull away from him and lift my brows.
Connor laughs. “I don’t imagine you do.”
I stop walking and put my hands on my hips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Connor keeps walking but turns backward to face me. “It means, that smart mouth of yours would tell them exactly where to go.”
The sun’s directly overhead, highlighting Connor’s features and beam
ing smile. My stomach flutters at the sight of him—even wearing that stupid turkey hat—and the razzing he’s giving me.
“Well, how else would they know what to do with themselves?” I increase my pace to catch up to him.
He shakes his head as we get in line for the stadium.
Briefly rubbing his thumb over my bottom lip, he says, “I really like your smart mouth, Journal Girl. It makes you different from the rest.”
I suddenly find it hard to breathe. “The rest of what?”
“Of—”
“Next!” a woman performing security checks yells.
Connor grins at me the entire time we are patted down, and I can’t help but smile back. His constant happy mood is contagious and makes me almost forget my sorrow over seeing Nicholas earlier.
Grabbing my hand, he leads me through the multitude of bodies and over to an escalator. When we claim our spot and start heading up, Connor doesn’t release me. He rubs his fingers along my palm, sending chill bumps up my arms.
“Special entrance for the suites.” He nudges his chin upward. “You’ll have to show your ticket again.”
As we go through the second round of ticketing, it’s made awkward by the fact that Connor refuses to let go of my hand. Even the quizzical look the ticket lady gives us isn’t enough to make Connor release me.
His persistence makes me smile internally.
Once we’re at the top, there are less people to contend with, and I feel like I can breathe for the first time since we’ve entered this building.
Connor walks with the authority of someone who knows where he’s going and takes me to an open door about midway down a corridor.
“This is us.” He turns to look down at me.
“Yay,” I say with fake enthusiasm.
His fingers play with mine, and I get the feeling Connor still doesn’t want to release me but knows he has to.
“Listen, I’d like to talk to you about what happened earlier in the parking lot.” He peeks in the suite before turning back to me. “Now’s not the time, but I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine, Connor. Really.” I step closer. “I just thought I saw someone I knew.”
