Page 14 of Merrily Yours
I was not her friend.
She was my high school nemesis and always one step ahead of me—it wasinfuriating.
Valedictorian by a tenth of a point.
First place at the state debate competition by a tenth of a point.
Cross country record holder by—okay that one she actually has me beat by more than a second.
Like I said, infuriating.
“Colette,” I grit out and relish watching her head whip around so fast, her ponytail hits her in the face.
I’d really like to wrap that ponytail around my fist.
“Benoit,” she replies, a cool mask sliding into place. “I didn’t realize you were home.”
“It’s Christmas,” I state matter-of-factly.
“You don’t always come home for holidays,” she replies and then flinches so subtly, I might have missed it if I hadn’t spent four years studying her tells.
“Keeping tabs on me, sweets?”
“Don’t call me that,” she hisses. It’s too easy to rile her up.
I step closer, crowding her space. “Hmm, what should I call you instead?” I ask.
Her lips part to answer and I’m mesmerized, magnetized, ready to?—
“Cole?” a deep voice cuts in. We both turn toward the sound but don’t move away from each other.
We stare at him for a moment before realizing where we are, as if we are both coming out of a hate-induced trance. The man waiting for her is objectively good looking. Tall. Blond. Not her type.
She clears her throat, pulling my attention back to those parted lips. “I’m on a date,” she says, watching me. Calculating her next move depending on what mine will be.
I take a step away and shove my hands in my pockets. “Of course you are,” I reply. “You are almost thirty, aren’t you?” A reminder that I haven’t forgotten about our pact.
She glares at me and then turns without another word. Her ponytail swishing as she walks to the counter with her date.
“What the fuck was that about?”
I jump, not realizing Bex and Jules have finally arrived, just in time to witness my run-in with Colette.
“Is that Cole Russell?” Jules asks. “She looks good.”
His remark is casual. And deliberate. As my twin, Jules always knows the right thing to say to bait me into a reaction.
So I just hum—something that could be an agreement, but it’s probably not. Probably.
“Okay, can you both stop the weird twinning? I’m ready to sit down.”
I already have my coffee, but Jules and Bex have yet to order. I find a table for the three of us while they get their drinks from Ethel.
When they sit down across from me, I know more questions are coming so I stop them by asking, “Are you even allowed to drink coffee?”
Bex groans. “Not you too! Yes, you ignorant man. I can take care of my own body, a healthy toddler,andthe baby growing inside me, thank you very much.”
I lift my hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. I just know how much coffee Mom drank when she was pregnant with you and… well…” I let the insinuation hang in the air.
