Page 25 of When the Fake Snow Falls

He’s right—annoyingly right. I tilt my head like I haven’t been scrutinizing his every detail since he walked in here. When we got drinks on Thursday, he was clean shaven. Now the smooth skin has a perfect layer of stubble. It’s just enough to make me think he might even be a little older than me, but I’m not sure. Some men are just blessed with great facial hair.

“You’re trying to figure it out, aren’t you?” he asks.

I straighten. “It doesn’t matter.”

Another lift of his brow, that familiar look of amusement flashing across his features. “I’m too old for her, but it doesn’t matter how old I am?” When I don’t answer right away, he tilts his head. “You’re young. How old are you?”

“Do you always go around asking women how old they are?”

“I ask my friends lots of things.”

The way he’s looking at me makes me forget my age for a moment. “Um, twenty-seven.”

He puts a relaxed hand to his chest. “Twenty-eight. See, that wasn’t so bad. We’ve learned a lot about each other today.” He raises his drink as a sort of salute and takes a sip.

I let out a breath of laughter. “All we learned is our ages.”

His lips are still at his cup when he smiles at my response, and it feels like my hands could melt all the ice in my coffee. “Not true.” Lowering his drink, he says, “I also learned that your friend over there is off-limits, and that you felt the need to make sure I knew that.”

“There’s the blonde thing to consider.”

He looks down at his drink, a subtle smirk forming. “Ah, yes. How dare I have a type?” He nods, agreeing with whatever I’m not saying. “They should lock me up.”

My lips twist, and when his dark eyes lift to meet mine, his smirk only grows.

The bell chimes as my next client walks through the door. She’s the daughter of another client—a bit of a moody teenager, but she usually has no fear when it comes to her hair, so that can be fun.

“She’s here for me,” I say to Chase as I set down my drink. “Thanks again for the coffee.”

“Of course. Can’t have you falling asleep at the chair.” He gives a slight nod. “Have a good day, Candace.”

I give him a brief smile. “You too,” I say quickly before turning my attention to the girl getting settled in my chair. “Hey! How are you?”

She answers something generic, like “fine” or “good,” but I don’t catch it. I’m too busy replaying my last interaction with Chase. Even without the caffeine, I think I’d be buzzing from his presence alone.

twelve

Thanks to my surprise coffee,I’m still full of energy after working later than expected. Amanda was there late too and asked if I wanted to grab a drink. There’s a sit-down restaurant down the street from the salon that has a full bar, so sometimes we come here for wine and appetizers after a long day. Today, Amanda ordered an elaborate Christmas-themed drink with a cinnamon stick poking out of the glass. She hums along to the instrumental rendition of “Let It Snow” playing fully in the holiday spirit, but I keep forgetting it’s December. I don’t know what’s with me this year. I guess most years I get daily calls while my parents transform their house into a winter wonderland, and last year, the bar I worked at had us wear Christmas themed socks and shirts during the month of December. Maybe this is the year for creating new traditions.

Amanda quickly sets down her drink like she’s just remembered something. “I had no idea you were seeing someone!”

“I’m not seeing anyone.”

“But that guy! Who was he? The one who brought you coffee.”

I’m barely able to stifle a groan. He’s the last thing I want to talk about. Amanda knows a little about my past dating life, but I don’t think I’m close enough with her to divulge my ridiculous crush on a man who never meant to ask me out in the first place.

“Oh, he’s just a friend.” It’s the truth. It is one hundred percent the truth, but it feels like the biggest lie I’ve ever told. As much as I want to only see Chase as a friend, there’s something about him that makes my entire body hum happily. It’s more than genuinely enjoying being around a friend. I think it may even be more than wanting to sleep with him, too. I don’t know a lot about him, but I can see him pulling me into the dangerous territory where those two things merge.

She raises her eyebrows, not believing me. “I wish all my friends looked like that.”

I laugh. “You also thought Miles was hot when you first saw him.”

“Milesishot.” Her eyes widen. “Oh,that’swhy he’s your friend.” She shakes her head. “Damn. I swear they get all the good ones.”

I can’t fight my smile. “No, Chase isn’t gay. He’s just . . .” I shrug. “A friend.”

“I think we should change that.”

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