Page 13 of Snowed

“Thank you!” I smiled. “That felt good.”

“But okay…we need to discuss this.” He placed his hand on my shoulder, causing my body to buzz. “Why the hell are you going to the wedding?”

That was the question. I had a few answers, and I hoped he understood where I was coming from. Cade’s opinion suddenly mattered to me, either because of my drunkenness or something more. Perhaps I’d learned to trust him in the course of this fucked-up afternoon.

“A few reasons…” I hiccupped. “One, declining the invitation would’ve made it look like I still have feelings for him. And while I have hard feelings toward him, I could never love someone who would do what he did. So any love I had for him is in the past. This is more about me showing them I’ve moved on. Two, they’re getting married at The Ritz, and it’s an open bar. The food should be good, too. So why the hell not? Three, I have a killer dress that’s cut all the way down to my navel in the front. Derek’s brother is a boob man and single.”

Cade snapped his fingers. “Ah…revenge!”

“I’m sort of joking about that. Two wrongs don’t make a right.”

“Fuck that! You’d be totally in the right to date his brother.”

“His brother’s a tool, though,” I noted.

“Okay, so maybe not.” Cade winked. “But yeah, the killer dress sounds nice.”

“It is.” I grinned mischievously. “Can I ask you a question outside of this game?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened with your ex? What had you all worked up about that dare?”

He looked up at the ceiling before meeting my eyes again. “She died.”

And just like that, my hiccups were gone.

CHAPTER 7

Cade

“Oh shit.” I grimaced. “Are you crying?”

“No.” Daria turned away.

I reached out and cupped her chin, turning her to face me. Fat tears streamed down her cheeks. I couldn’t help but crack a smile. “You’re not crying, huh?”

“Shut up, jerk. I got something in my eye.”

I’d never thought it would be possible to laugh while talking about Everly’s death, but somehow Daria had done it. I chuckled. “Must be a bucket of water you got in there.”

She sniffled and swiped at her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Cade. I shouldn’t have pushed you on the subject. I…I just didn’t think…”

“It’s okay. It was two years ago. She died in a car accident. A resident doctor who had just worked a twenty-four-hour shift fell asleep at the wheel on his way home. His car swerved into oncoming traffic, and he hit her head on. He didn’t make it either.”

“Oh, God. That’s horrible.” Daria kept shaking her head. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you.” I fell silent. But for a change, it wasn’t because I was brooding over Everly—though talking about her would always leave a hollow feeling in my chest. This time I was debating coming clean about one of the reasons Daria had irked me from the first moment we’d met. She’d been honest about her asshole ex, so I figured I owed her some truth. Plus, I was pretty buzzed. “Everly might have something to do with the reason I’ve been a dick to you.”

Daria used the backs of her hands to dry her cheeks. “I don’t understand.”

“I don’t dream every night. Well, at least I don’t remember it, if I do. But a few times a year, I wake up after a really vivid dream. For more than eighteen months after Everly died, the dreams were always about her. Sometimes it would be a memory. I’d dream about something we did together. Other times it would be random shit my brain made up—like I’d be sitting in a movie theater watching a movie and she’d be the actress in it, even though she wasn’t an actress. But that changed when I met you.”

“You stopped dreaming about her?”

I swallowed and looked into Daria’s eyes. “I started dreaming about you.”

Her jaw dropped open.