Page 90 of A Very Merry Enemy
Holiday giggles and stands, too, but she stumbles over nothing.
Without thinking, I wrap my arm around her to steady her. She’s warm and soft and smells like gardenias and wood smoke. Having her this close, in this place, with bourbon making everything feel more dangerous—it’s almost too much.
“You’re always saving me,” she whispers, looking up at me.
“Only when you let me.”
Her face is inches from mine. I can see the firelight reflected in her eyes and can feel her breath on my face. I remember exactly what it felt like to kiss her fifteen years ago in this exact spot.
I force myself to step back. “Sit.”
She plops down in the chair, and I add more firewood, taking my time to get myself under control. When the fire is blazing again, I rejoin her. The heat from the flames does nothing to chase away the cold awareness between us.
We’re drunk now. The kind that makes consequences feel like they’re in a galaxy far, far away.
Being here with her, in this place, is more dangerous than Ithought. We’re about to say things we can’t undo and learn things we can’t deny.
And I did it anyway.
Fuck it, right?
A few minutes later, the timer on my phone goes off. The drinking portion of the game is over.
Holiday looks at me, and something passes between us. It’s understanding, fear, and anticipation. We’re officially at the point of no return.
“Ready to start confessing?” she asks with a hiccup.
“Yep, there’s no backing out now.” I lift the bottle to my lips and take one long pull for courage. “Thoughts and prayers.”
CHAPTER 18
HOLIDAY
Itake another drink of bourbon, and it goes down like water. That’s when I know I’m in big trouble.
We’ve been out here for an hour, and I’ve thought about every question I’ve wanted to ask Lucas since I arrived in town. So far, we’ve only really discussed safe topics and skirted the ones that would force us to dig deeper.
The silence growing between us is almost too much. We’re both drinking faster now, building up courage for whatever comes next.
“You first,” Lucas says, setting the bottle down.
My heart kicks up, and I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans. “Actually, I don’t know if I’m drunk enough for this.”
“Can you taste the bourbon?” He shifts the camping chair so he’s directly in front of me. The firelight catches his face, all angles and shadows and scruff.
“No,” I confess.
“Great. Then I’ll start. Make it easier.”
“Okay.”
He takes a breath. “Why did you really come back to Merryville?”
“I told you. My contract endedand?—”
“No surface-level bullshit, remember? Real answers.”
I look at the flames dancing and hear the wood crackling. “Because I didn’t know where else to go. Because I was so tired of pretending to be someone I wasn’t. Because I needed to remember who I was before…” I trail off.
