I am not kicking down a bathroom door in my friend's ski lodge because Carly Drake has the mouth of a brat.Even if part of me would enjoy it.
I drag a hand down my face and force myself to think rationally.
Freshening up without access to the bathroom turns out to be an exercise in humiliation. I find my toiletry bag, dig out deodorant, cologne, a comb, and spend the next few minutes doing the best I can with the mirror on the desk, making myself look and smell at least decently put together and like I didn't spend my morning half-sticky from Pen's maple syrup.
By the time I give up and head downstairs, I’m still annoyed, still too aware of her, and now also irritated that I’m the one leaving the room like some kind of exiled husband in an ad for a divorce lawyer.
The bar is warm and low-lit when I walk in, all dark wood and amber light and the expensive kind of quiet that makes everyone lower their voice without meaning to. The fire’s going in the stone hearth. A few people are scattered around the room, but the back corner is already claimed.
Cole sees me first and lifts his glass.“Look who survived check-in.”
I stop at the table. “Your room situation is bullshit,” I mumble, ignoring Cole entirely and glancing at Wade as I sit down beside Jackson.
“What?” Wade asks, his brow creasing.
Cole snorts immediately. “You already struggling, Gray?”
Jackson blinks at me. “What happened?”
A server appears at my elbow before I can elaborate. I order a whiskey because I’ve earned it.Cole’s got a club soda with lime in front of him, one I'm ninety-nine percent sure has nothing else in it because we'd be having a very different evening if it did. Jackson is already halfway through a beer, and Wade has what looks like bourbon.
“You put Carly and me in a room with one bed,” I say.
Wade blinks.
Jackson glances between us. “Wait. One room? Is that an issue?”
“One room.”
“Withonebed?” Cole asks, his mouth already grinning.
“Yes,” I mutter.
The laughter that bursts out of him is loud enough to cut through the entire room like a lightning bolt. He beams like it's the best thing he's heard all day, and I've never wanted to punch him more in my entire life.
I stare at him. “You done?”
“Absolutely not,” he says, still grinning.
Wade is looking at me like he’s trying to work out the last thirty seconds in his head. “Wait, I thought you two were together.”
Jackson’s brows go up. “Oh shit.”
“We are not together,” I say flatly.
Wade winces. “Fuck. Seriously?”
“Yep.”
Cole laughs again into his soda. “This just keeps getting better.”
Wade winces. “I can get you another room.”
“You said you were booked out,” I remind him.
“I am booked out, but I can try to move some things around, maybe put somebody in staff housing, maybe?—”
I raise a hand to stop him. “It’s fine.”
