Page 32 of On the Slopes of Tahoe
If things were different, Talia would be here right now. We’d be the ones kissing and making the single people around us sick. The reality of having no one to kiss at midnight hurts more than I expected it to.
Rory and Jamie chat animatedly on the other side of our bride and groom and their never-ending kiss.
“For fuck’s sake, mate, let the woman breathe,” I say in exasperation, and the group around us howls with laughter.
“Got a bit carried away there, didn’t I?” Wes says, unapologetic.
“Maybe a little bit,” Joss says, cheeks red either from embarrassment or beard burn. It’s hard to tell which.
“So, where to next?” I ask, looking around. It’s not yet midnight, but I can tell that for the visiting Aussies—Wes now happily included in that group—their energy is waning. If I’m being honest, I don’t want to go home yet. It’s been a while since I’ve had a night out on the town… the closest being the night Wes and I went out for beers in Sydney last month—the night that changed my life.
The night I found the letter. My hand instinctively grazes my pants pocket, where my wallet sits.
Wes looks at Joss, something heated passing between them. Rory must see it too because she wraps both hands around her throat and mimes being sick.
“Get a room,” she chides.
“We have a room. I think it’s high time we used it.”
“Gross,” Rory counters, and we all laugh.
“I think we’re going to head back too.” Jaz smiles up at Paul. “The hotel said we’d be able to see the fireworks from our room, and honestly, I’m beat.”
Wes turns to Rory, pulling her into a tight hug. “Thank you. For today. For everything.” He presses a kiss to her temple then pulls back. “How’re you getting home? There might not be any cabs with this crowd.”
“I’ll walk. It’s not far,” she says, and he scrunches his nose.
“I’ll walk with her.” I move beside Rory, and Wes instantly relaxes.
“Thanks, mate.” He pulls me in for a hug too. I swear he’s become more of a hugger than even me lately.
Jamie claps Wes on the shoulder, but that’s not good enough for Wes. He embraces him too.
They all stumble into the cold night air, laughing as they go.
“One more drink?” I ask Rory, altogether bypassing Jamie, who’s still standing at her side.
Please say yes. Let me fix this.
“Yeah, okay,” she says, holding my gaze. “One more drink.” Then, with a Cheshire cat grin on her face, she says, “Then dancing!”
She spins in her boots, ones that come up above her knees, and I catch her elbow when she loses her balance. We’ve been out for a while now, but she’s barely had two drinks so I know she’s not drunk, just excited. She’s more carefree than I’ve ever seen her, and I’m glad she didn’t let her parents bulldoze her mood. This isn’t her trying to take care of anyone or impress her parents. This is just Rory, out on the town, looking for fun.
“Dancing, huh?” I scrub my other hand at the back of my neck and try to hide my smile. It’s been years since I went dancing, definitely before Talia and I had Willow.
“Yup. You coming, Jamie?” She doesn’t pull her elbow from my grip and I lazily let my thumb coast up around her bicep. Is it bad that I don’t really want him to come? That I kind of want this time with Rory to myself?
There’s a wide, mischievous smile on his face. “One drink and dancing. Yeah, let’s go.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Rory
Jamie dragged us down the street to another bar where he said the dancing would be better. Fine by me. I caught Breck with his eyes on the sky, taking in the bright lights of the town all decked out for the new year. It’s chaotic and crammed with people right now, but it’s mine, and I love it.
I’m standing at the bar between Breck and Jamie. Their protective stances keep me from getting shuffled around by the crowd. The bass reverberates down to my very bones, perfect for a night where all I want is to let loose. With each drink I forgeta little more about my job, my parents, the hurt I was harboring over Breck’s words. I want to start the new year not worrying about anything but me for a change.
Breck turns from the bar with a margarita for me and a beer for himself at the same time Jamie turns with his scotch. There’s something relaxed in Breck’s demeanor now. Maybe he’s got ideas for starting the new year fresh too. He hands me the glass, fingers sliding over mine. I blush under his watchful gaze and ignore the flip in my stomach.
