Page 12 of Under the Mistle-Foe

The wind was getting stronger, and with the speed Remy was walking, I hadn’t had time to put on my gloves. My fingers were the most sensitive to the cold, and they were already turning pink in the short time we’d been out here.

I blew into my hands and rubbed them together to generate some warmth. The speed-walking to catch up with Remy helped to raise my body temperature some, but I was still freezing. It pained me to know it would only get colder, with it still being November and all.

Remy must not have been serious about shaking me off because he slowed a bit when I lagged behind. Whether it was intentional, I would probably never find out. There was no way he’d admit it.

We stopped just around the corner from the front of the diner, nearing the parking lot. From my angle, I could barely see a bit of the graffiti that was sprayed on the front of the building last year. It depicted children building a snowman while snowflakes, ornaments, and presents floated down from above their heads. It had faded a bit, but the scene was still recognizable.

“I’m wondering why Dad hasn’t repainted the wall yet,” Remy stated, probably catching me staring in the graffiti’s direction. He grabbed something out of his pocket, pulled out a cigarette from the box, and lit up.

I frowned as a billow of smoke floated by. Was this another habit he’d picked up in New York?

“I’m the one with the bad boy name, so why are you the one trying to emulate the bad boy persona?”

“I think you still have me beat on that with all those tats of yours,” he said with a smirk, and I tried to capture the image in my mind, saving it in my very limited bank of the Remy Trent smiles that had been targeted at me.

Another puff of smoke blew past me, this time tickling my nose and causing me to sneeze. I’d never liked the smell of cigarettes much.

To my surprise, Remy stubbed out his half-smoked cigarette, making sure it was completely out before tossing it in a nearby trash can. I jogged in place as I watched his actions, trying to warm my body up again now that we were standing still in the elements. At least the building shielded some of the wind.

“If you’re cold, you should go inside.” I looked up at Remy’s voice.

“But you’re out here,” I replied automatically and instantly knew I’d fucked up. Remy’s conflicted expression only confirmed it.

CHAPTER 6

REMY

Jett Davis was fuckingafraid of the cold.

I watched him shiver in the barely cold November wind. He was hopping in place, his hands hidden in his armpits to keep warm.

This fact was so out-of-character for him, when, in my entire time knowing him, it felt like he didn’t have a single flaw—not that being sensitive to the cold was a flaw—but it just made him seem more…human to me.

I watched him shiver like a scared bunny for a few more seconds before asking him why he didn’t just go inside. It wasn’t like us standing here in silence was the party of a lifetime that he needed to stay for, so he could just go inside while I waited till the cigarette smell dissipated from my body.

I’d picked up smoking when I went off to college and was fully aware it was a nasty habit. I was working on quitting, but being in Christmas Falls hadn’t made it any easier.

“But you’re out here,” Jett replied.

His answer only confirmed my hypothesis that he washanging around the diner because of me. But the question was,why?

We weren’t in high school anymore. I was sure he had better ways of entertaining himself than endlessly pestering me. So, what the hell was his motive?

“What I mean is…I feel like we got off the wrong foot, and I’d really like to remedy that. I’d like for us to be friends,” he said before I could say anything.

I watched him skeptically. “You want to be friends? Andthat’swhy you’ve been hanging around the diner?”

He nodded, his head moving up and down frantically like a bobblehead, going so fast that I barely caught his nervous expression. He was definitely hiding something. I wasn’t sure what it was yet, but I’d play his game and find out because, afteryearsof his teasing me throughout high school, I doubted friendship was all he wanted from me.

“Friends? Okay, sure. We can be friends,” I replied lightly. I was completely unprepared for the thousand-watt smile he shot at me in return; like offering my friendship to him was somehow the greatest gift he could receive.

Damn. Now I felt bad for the half-assed reply when he was being so genuine. Maybe I’d been wrong about him after all, and friendshipwasall he’d really wanted from me.

Kaysen had said the same thing earlier today, but I really didn’t want to admit that I had my head so far up my ass this entire time, I couldn’t even tell when someone wanted to be friends with me.

“So does that mean you’ll actually talk to me when I’m at the diner now?” he suddenly asked.

I squinted at him. “You’re still going to come? Don’t you need to work or something?”

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