Prologue
Aspen
Two years ago, the first time
Tonight is the night I am going to go for it. It being Rhett. There’s a fifty percent chance this will go my way, and from the way I see it, it's pretty good odds. Worst case scenario is tomorrow I blame it on too much booze, even if I nurse the drink in my hand all night like I plan to do.
I take another long sip of my drink and lock eyes with him. Seriously, it should be unfair for my brother to have a best friend this damn attractive. He’s built like a damn lumberjack, and has the whole dark hair and sexy beard thing going on. Criminally rugged and one hundred percent my type. I wait for him to break eye contact, but he doesn’t. I wish I could read him, but judging by the crimson flush on his chest and the smolder, there’s no denying this attraction is mutual. You know what? I’m upping my odds of this going my way to sixty percent.
I’m four years younger than my brother and his best friends, and up until I came home from college a few months ago, Rhett never gave me a second glance. They all pretended like I wasn’t there. But, like all younger siblings, I so badly wanted to be a piece of their puzzle. None of them are biologically related, but you would never guess that with the way they show up for each other.
“Suck it. Mav,” my big brother, Weston, says to his other best friend after he sinks the 8 ball in the pocket, ending their game of pool.
“If you’re that desperate for some action, I’m sure we can find you someone around here,” Mav fires back.
Just like that, my happy feeling of day dreaming about Rhett is gone. In my mind, my brother is celibate.
“You guys ready to head out?” Weston asks over his shoulder as he puts up the pool sticks on the wall.
“Probably, a good idea. We’ve got a lot of shit to do tomorrow,” Mav agrees.
“You guys good to drive?” Weston asks.
Rhett and I answer at the same time; his “I’m good” is covered by my “I need a ride.”
He shakes his head in amusement as a chuckle slips out of him. “I’ll take her; you guys can head home.”
West claps him on the shoulder. “Thanks, man. See you in the morning.”
Once again, my scheming works. Rhett is reliable to a fault, which makes him predictable. He may not have all the pages of his book available, but this one I can read. I knew if I said I needed a ride, he’d offer.
My now very warm and wasted beer sits in my hand. I don’t need a ride, but I’ll use whatever excuse I can to hang out with Rhett.
I’ve had a crush on him as long as I can remember, but once again, the little sister curse struck me down. He never looked twice at me when I was younger, which now that I’m older makes perfect sense. He was always kind, but in a "I'm best friends with your brother so I have to protect you” way. Fourteen-year-old me thought it was chivalry.
Well, until I came back from college. Don’t get me wrong, he hasn’t made a move, but his gaze lingers a little longer. And his cheeks turn red every time I catch him, which is a lot. It’s easy to catch on when I’m constantly looking at him too.
The boys leave through the door, just as I go to grab my coat, but the music changes and my favorite song blares over the juke box.
My gaze immediately locks with Rhett, a sly smile already sneaking its way on my face.
“No,” he says, shaking his head.
“Please, Rhett. It’s my favorite song. Come dance with me, just one song.”
“We have an early morning.” He makes a weak attempt at arguing. I wonder if he can hear how unconvincing it is?
“I’m pretty sure five less minutes of sleep won’t kill you, cowboy. Now come dance with me.” I grab his hands and drag him to a dark corner of the dance floor, out of sight from peering eyes.
He tries to hide it, but even that beard of his can’t hide his smile.
“Fine.” His hand swings around my waist and I feel my heart somersault in my chest. His scent wafts up around me and I feel like I could get lost in it.
We tuck ourselves back into a corner, as far away from prying eyes as we can get.
The thing very few people know about Rhett is this man can dance. The tempo of the music picks up, and he spins me aroundin circles. Taking the lead, leaving me with nothing to think about other than him.
A laugh escapes me as he stops me mid-spin and I slam back into him. The heat from his broad chest seeps into me and something ignites. Attraction seems like a poor way to describe this feeling. It’s more like an invisible string tied between us. “You know, if you keep smiling at me like that, I’m going to think you actually like dancing with me.”
