Page 23 of Can I Tell You Something?
“You’re messing with me.”
“I’m not,” I laugh. “There’s a road, but waiting for a taxi is boring, so we slide home. We’ve done it for years.”
Rico’s is already busy by the time we get there, and while Ryan heads for the bar, Cameron and I hunt for a table, weaving our way through to a small one with high stools near the back. I hang my coat over my seat and hop up.
Mountain bars are nothing like city bars. You can’t exactly dress up in a skirt and heels here, unless you’re willing to freeze to death on the way home. Most people are in ski pants and t-shirts or hoodies. We’re no different, though Cameron opted for a soft plaid shirt open over his plain white t-shirt. The kind of shirt I’d love to wrap myself up in.
“So, do you come here often?” Cameron asks, then scrunches his nose, wincing at the dated pickup line that happens to be a genuine question.
“It’s a pilgrimage, I suppose.” I’m tucked into the wall side of a corner table, and while I have a view of the bar, Cameron’s eyes are all on me and I feel far too warm because of it. “When we were kids, we’d stop off for pizza after a day on the slopes, but as we got older we were allowed to stay back with our friends. They weren’t so hot on checking for ID back then, which helped.”
“Were you a wild child?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows. The idea is laughable. Goody-two shoes Hannah was so far from wild.
“Not at all. I was always the one making sure nobody got too drunk and everyone made it home safe.”
“You know many people here?”
I glance around over his shoulder. “I recognise a few, but a lot of our friends stopped coming out once they got older. They get jobs, start families of their own, properties get sold. But it was a dream to spend Christmases here as a child. We’ve had some amazing times.”
I zone out a little, memories rushing to the surface. Learning to ice-skate on the frozen lake, our evening walks to see all the local families’ nativity displays, which seemed to get grander and grander each year. The Santa parade through town was always a highlight, with shop-owners dressing as elves to hand out sweets to the children they passed. Everyone went to great lengths making it a magical time, but Christmas, like life I guess, loses a little of its sparkle once you get older.
“What about you?” I ask.
“What about me?”
“Were you a wild child?”
“Not at all. Good as gold,” Cameron grins.
I tip my head to one side. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Why?”
“Well… just… you know.”
“No, I don’t know. Come on, why is it so hard to believe I’m a good boy?”
“I’ve heard you say plenty of things that suggest otherwise.”
“Any highlights?”
“Um…” He’s so casual in the way he asks, as if this is a perfectly normal thing for two people to be discussing over a beer in a bar. He’s so relaxed about the whole thing that it makes me think I could tell him.
I could tell him I love his audio about co-workers trapped in the back room of a bookstore overnight. I could tell him that the way he takes control in Summer Nights altered my brain chemistry. That his Good Grades series lives in my brain rent free.
“What do you like, Hannah?” he asks again, leaning in. My body follows his instinctively, swaying forward, lured in by the seduction in his voice.
“I like…”
A packet of fried potato chips lands on the table between us, dropped straight from between my brother’s teeth. His hands balance three beer glasses in a careful triangle. I snap out of my Cameron induced trance and lean back, tearing open the packet and spreading it out flat for us to share.
“Anyone for a game?” Ryan pulls a deck of cards from his pocket. “I think it’s about time we beat Cam’s ass at L’Escalier.”
“What the hell is L’Escalier?” Cameron asks, sitting back as the tension between us fizzles away.
“We don’t really know,” I laugh. “Mum and Dad taught us, but we have yet to meet a single other person who’s even heard of it.”
“You’ll love it though. It’s easy to pick up,” Ryan reassures him as he deals three hands of eight cards and places the rest in a pile between us.
