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This annual holiday trip is the annual retreat we started ten years ago. The group always changes size depending on who is paired up and who isn’t. With our busy lives and schedules, we rarely have time to spend with each other other than a phone call or text. Sometimes we get together haphazardly at a bar, but it’s never the entire crew. Our December and annual beach vacations are two times when we all must show up.
No sooner than I open the door to the chalet, most of my friends rush upstairs like a horde of animals.
“I’m getting the room with the front view!” Tyler shouts.
“We’re getting the one with the fireplace I saw online!” Lauren hollers.
I stand still for a moment, close my eyes, and inhale the scent of fresh pine and something that smells hearty and herbal.
Everyone else clambers up the steps behind them, but Yaya remains behind with Andrew and me.
“Man, I’m tired as shit,” Andrew says, rubbing a hand over his eyes.
“Yeah, me, too,” I agree.
“Thought we’d arrive in the late afternoon.”
“Would have if it hadn’t been for flight delays.”
Andrew nods and then points at the steps, dragging his and a few of Lauren’s bags with him. “I’m heading up. I’m about to shower and grab some sleep.”
I glance at the text on my phone and say, “Oh, the chef left about twenty minutes ago, and he left a meal on the warmer if you want something to eat before going to bed.”
I head into the kitchen to see what he’d prepared.
I lift the lids of the warming dishes and stare inside at the roast, potatoes, carrots, Brussels sprouts, creamed corn, and bruschetta with tomato and basil.
Inhaling, I close my eyes and smirk at the rambunctious growl my stomach releases. I replace the lids, preparing to head upstairs, when I spot Yaya sitting on the couch, watching me with her bags at her feet.
Fuck! Does she need a babysitter too? I know what Stacey’s plans are, and I’m no fool. She shared it with Shep, too, but the asshole didn’t tell me.
They only shared that she’d been going through a lot lately and needed the getaway. If this is an attempt to set us up, they will be sorely disappointed. I don’t fuck minors.
Clenching my jaw, I drum up a smile.
“Oh, hey. Did you need help with your bags?”
“Um, no. I just wasn’t certain what room I should go into. I know I was a last-minute addition, so I will wait until everyone else is settled.”
“Come on,” I say as I head for the stairs. Thankfully, it’s a five-bedroom chalet, so she can have a room, and we won’t have to share.
She smiles and follows me, lugging two suitcases and a carry-on.
“Hey, let me carry those for you,” I say, reaching for the suitcase as she struggles with them and her carry-on.
“It’s okay. I’m fine. Really,” she insists when I raise an eyebrow at her.
My eyes return to her tiny frame and then the luggage. “I don’t mind.”
“I’m small but stronger than I look,” she replies shyly.
Nodding, I say, “Okay.”
I continue up the steps listening to her moving behind me with her suitcases thudding until we reach the top landing. I’ve already established which room is mine. The bedroom at the end of the hall has large windows overlooking the lake with a balcony, fireplace, and a sitting room.
Glancing at the other three bedrooms, I can see that they’re already occupied based either on the closed door or, in Tyler’s instance, his jumping up and down on the bed. Passing their doorway, I see that Denise is exasperated with his behavior.
You’d think we were still in college, scratch that, middle school, with how Tyler sometimes acts.
