Page 1 of The Four Leaf

The desire to get shitfaced drunk and dance naked in my living room to songs from the nineties is strong right now. So strong, in fact, I have to make a mental list of pros and cons to keep from saying screw it and actually doing it.

But alas, the cons side is much longer, and the current scowl on my sister’s face from across the bar is borderline murderous. Her perfectly arched brows are raised so high they nearly touch her hairline. And with the terrifying way her iconic plump lips are stretched into a tight line, I add another bullet point to my imaginary list.

They say twins can almost read each other’s minds, but I don’t think the gift is exclusive to womb buddies. My sister has always had this sort of radar when it comes to my bullshit, and the majority of the time she’s able to stop my shenanigansbeforeI even get the chance to commit to them.

So now, with her reading the internal struggle on my face, I already know I won’t be vibing on my new washable rug while sipping wine and swaying toWaterfallsby TLC.

I sigh, both at my own resignation and my sister's triumphant smirk, before glancing back down at my clipboard–the reason I’m overwhelmed in the first place.

Being the manager of a ritzy hotel on a main street is one thing that already comes with an array of never-ending duties. But add the fact that it’s Saint Patrick's Day, and the city's parade marches right in front of the hotel, then, well, you have yourself a place with no vacancies and not an empty seat in the in-house pub.

The number of needy guests this year seems to be at an all-time high, while the amount of sudden renovation projects required is astronomical. Not only that, but the handymen in the area are either off, charging double, or booked up.

Go figure my parents' pride and joy would choose the busiest time of year to start giving me gray ends at the prime age of twenty-five.

It sounds like I’m complaining, and while yeah, I partially am, I do love this place and all the stress that comes with it. Even though it means I don’t get home until after my weekly shows have aired and my cat has curled up in my spot, forcing me to maneuver around her. I mean, what kind of cat-mom would I be to disturb her when she’s gotten comfortable? I’m the late one, after all.

With another pass over my list, I finally decide what to tackle first. I’ve become relatively handy with the old plumbing and figure with all the local festivities happening tonight, no one should be without a working faucet or stuck with a clunky-sounding toilet.

Glancing up to tell my sister I’ll see her later, the large flat screen on the wall behind her catches my eye. Like ninety percent of the time, a sports channel plays across the screen. It’s a recap of yesterday’s rugby game with two USA teams, and one player is currently being showcased for his incredible performance.

Number twenty-four. Adrian Stokes.

My heart leaps into my throat when his hazel eyes and a thick forest of black hair appear on the TV. To the rest of the world, he’s exactly what they describe. Six-three, two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle, always contributing to seventy percent of the team’s points.

But I know the man off the field. The man who tempts my heart with going into cardiac arrest. The one I’ve secretly wanted since the first butterfly took flight.

I sound like a total creep, but we actually grew up together. Our parents were longtime friends and when Adrian and I were around five, they all decided to renovate and open a relatively small historic hotel downtown.

As one can imagine, we spent countless hours together running down the halls before it officially became The Four Leaf. We played hide and seek in the areas that weren’t off-limits or under construction. Did our homework in the massive kitchen, which was the only place with decent light. Got in trouble when we had sword fights with paint sticks, and always seemed to be sent to Boston Common Park to play until the sun finally set.

My sister, Adrian, and I grew up within these walls. Learned how to cook, fix a leaky pipe, and clean those small vents in the bathroom. My sister, Willow, figured out how to drive, thanks to the expansive parking lot. And Adrian taught himself how to play piano from the grand piano in the ballroom by just watching videos on YouTube.

Somewhere between all that, and a crap ton of other memories embedded around this place, I fell for him. I mean, how could I not? He was everywhere, in everything.

Whether he was helping me with math, or we were watching the newest release on Netflix, he tattooed himself into all of my best and worst moments, all the while stealing more of my heart. It was a crush that gripped me by the throat and didn’t let go.

Until it did.

Kind of.

Naturally, I was always too scared to ruin my friendship with him, and after a small incident that gave me a very ‘friend-like’ nickname, I’ve had to learn to keep my feelings in check. But no matter what I tell myself about our completely platonic friendship, my body doesn’t agree. The visceral response when I see him is slightly embarrassing, and don’t get me started on the aftermath left in my panties.

But who can blame me? The man is one of those guys they made in stone back in Greece to depict the Gods, while also having the personality of your favorite German Shepherd. I know, comparing him to both a God and a dog, but it fits. The guy is loyal, kind, smart, strong, and sexy as hell, while also slightly terrifying.

“Are you going to ogle Adrian all night, or actually start on that list?” My sister pops the top off a green bottle and hands it to an eagerly waiting patron. Her blonde ponytail whips back and forth as she moves gracefully behind the bar, performing some type of choreography only she and her barbacks know the footwork to.

I roll my eyes and tap my pen on the metal piece of my clipboard. “I was just thinking how convenient it would be if he were here.”

It’s not a complete lie. Adrian did more work than my sister and I combined when we were growing up here. Probably the very reason he sold his shares to us as soon as he could, then split.

My sister guffaws as she cashes out a customer. “I’m sure. I bet it’d be awfully convenient if he could fix the leak between your legs too, huh?”

A vicious blush burns across my cheeks as I gape at her and a few of the chuckling guests.Asshole.She’s always been that way. Straightforward and unfiltered. Even when we were kids, she loved making things awkward for me and Adrian any chance she could.

I open and close my mouth twice before narrowing my eyes. “I’ll be on the top floor, working in the far wing. Call if you need something.”

Willow chuckles, jerking her head to the man seated at the end of the bar. “See how she didn’t deny my claims, Tommy?”

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