Page 54 of Christmas in Vines

“Did he show you how a gentleman should be?” Jackie asked.

“Yes…”

“Did his kisses shive down to your toes?” she asked.

“Yes. But that’s just lust…” I replied. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It kind of does,” Jackie replied. “Think about it. Does this feel anything like when you were in ‘love’ with Maxwell?”

“No,” I blurted. “Hell no. It’s not even comparable.”

She looked smug. “That’s your answer. Two and two do not make five, Willow.”

I wanted to roll my eyes, but she was right. Underneath it all, I felt more for Cole than I ever had for any other boyfriend. Maxwell was a half a point when Cole was a full ten. I did feel a bit betrayed by him pretending to be someone else but—that had preceded me, hadn’t it? It was not as if he had started to pretend after we’d gotten together.

Maybe I needed to give him some slack.

“No, they don’t,” I replied. “They make eight.”

“Oh, shut up.” Jackie laughed, “Now, get some sleep and go find your man.”

As we cut off the call, I sagged back into the bed, wondering if I should do it or not.

ChapterSeventeen

Cole

Why in God’s name did I allow Ethan to drag me out of my house and to a bar, to celebrate— Christ, I didn’t even remember what we were celebrating.

I was glad that Mix’D was so dark at the karaoke nights and that I had a rolling tab. Keep those classic margaritas coming. It had been two weeks since the meeting at Clarkston Ciders and I had not heard a word from Willow. I couldn’t count the times I’d woken up at 3 a.m., fighting back the urge to send her a text message.

I had to let her approach me this time, not go barging into her life.

Ethan slid into the seat across from me in the circle booth and sat his beer down. He gave me a look that I didn’t want to meet. “You okay?”

Snorting, I threw back the rest of my drink, “Nope. Hardly.”

“You know, when you asked me to call Clarkston, I hadn’t fully understood why,” Ethan said, “Why had I not expected that you were on the goddamn Clarkston board?”

“It was another harebrained thing,” I said, “When my investor adviser had told me to diversify my portfolio, I’d said, fuck it and bought into Clarkston. And when they had that slump a couple years ago, I’d said the same thing and invested more.”

“So, all that mocking was what? Just teasing and not truly mockery,” Ethan asked.

“Just me being a dumbass again,” I said, rubbing my face. Staring into my empty glass, I sighed, “I fucked up, Ethan. This time, I can really say I have. I know I’ve been a menace half of my life, a loose canon the other half, just caring about the next laugh or vibe. I never truly took in what it means to give a shit.”

“And now you do?”

“More than that,” I replied. “I didn’t expect to fall in love with her, Ethan, because I was only there to fulfill a bet. I hadn’t planned on kissing her that first night when she was squaring off with her dickhead ex, but I guess life doesn’t really like me that much.”

“Oh God, I never thought I’d say this, but where are your balls man?” Ethan grunted. “Go strap on a pair and find her, tell her what is going through your head and leave the ball in her court.”

“I did so, the day of the meeting,” I replied. “I am not going to bombard her, Ethan. And the ball has been in her court. I haven’t changed my number or moved across the country. She can find me anytime she wants to.”

My eyes were back down on the empty glass while I considered getting another drink. I didn’t realize how tense the moment was while passing, but it was only when it felt awkward that I looked up. Ethan’s eyes were not on me—they were on the doorway over my shoulder.

The bastard then grinned and turned to me. “I think she has?”

The booze swimming through my head made his meaning a bit blurry at the moment, but when it connected, my back jackknifed. Ethan slid from the seat, taking his beer with him while a slender body came to the edge of the booth.

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