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Not overly eager to buy another round of drinks, I jogged over to the tube lift and waited patiently to get to the top. Harper stood there, her arms crossed.
“I sure hope this isn’t how you perform for qualifiers. You’re slow,” she replied, drawing out the last word. “Like a sloth. You could be buddies.”
“Tubing isn’t an Olympic sport.” I jabbed the air in her direction. “Tubing is for fun.”
“That’s what losers say.”
“Are you—did you just call me a loser?”
“If the boot fits.” She yanked down her goggles and grinned. “See you at the bottom with my cider!”
Before I could even try to respond with a comeback, she ran toward the hill, leapt onto her tube, and went flying down the hillside.
“That’s not a race. That’s cheating!” I yelled after her.
Steven walked over, shaking his head.
“Your sister is a cheater, Tinkerbell.”
Steven turned and glared at me. “Of all the nicknames, why did that one have to stick?”
“I find it hilarious, personally.”
“Ha ha.” His brows drew together.
My focus stayed on Harper as she pulled her tube across the snow, stopping to help a child move theirs out of the primary thoroughfare. In some ways, it felt like we’d stepped right back into old times.
The Three Musketeers, together again.
In other ways, it felt vastly different. Like the fact that Harper suddenly had gorgeous curves. She’d abandoned the puffy ski clothes of our younger days for slimmer ones that hugged her hips.
The last time I’d seen her had only been a couple of years ago. Three to be exact. But even since then, something had changed.
“Such a cheater,” I mumbled.
“You must’ve forgotten a lot while you’ve been gone. She’s always been a cheater.”
“What’s she up to these days?” I could’ve asked her, but I wanted to hear it from Steven. She had a habit of downplaying herself, and he’d keep it frank.
“She’s got her own floral business here in town. Runs a café out of it too. Very earthy.”
“That sounds…”
“Disgusting? Yeah, I thought so too. But I was pleasantly surprised.”
“So, a flower… café?” It sounded strange, yet so very Harper.
“That’s exactly what she calls it.” Steven turned to me and grinned. “She actually just got this big job, and, er—”
“You okay?” I frowned at him, noting the color draining from his face.
“Yep, all good,” he stammered.
Steven was honest, sometimes to a fault. Which typically meant he was terrible at keeping secrets. He’d once almost ruined the Santa secret for Harper because he found the toys in the closet. Their parents bounced back nicely but made extra efforts to prevent Steven from finding out things. We all did.
I turned my whole body to him and leaned in.
“You sure?”
