Page 22 of On the Slopes of Tahoe
Wes must’ve told Breck that we were close, because when we pull up outside my condo, he and Willow are standing on the front steps. I’ve barely turned off the engine before Wes jumps out and bounds toward his best friend and his pseudo-niece. Their embrace, Willow sandwiched somewhere in the middle, threatens to make me cry again.
Wes has missed having Breck in Sydney, that much is clear. He has Joss there, but he loves his best friend and would give anything to fix the things that drove him away. But he can’t, and I know that kills him.
Joss and I meet at the back of the car, amused looks passing between us at the guys’ show of affection.
“Oi, a little help over here,” Joss hollers, and they quickly break apart with barks of laughter.
“Sorry, Grey. I’m coming,” Wes calls back, using his favorite endearment for his fiancée. Clapping Breck on the back, he saunters over, a look of warmth in his eyes that I’ve never seenhim wear for anyone else. He gives Joss a peck on the cheek and then grabs several of the bags.
I turn from the hatchback to hand another bag to Wes and run into a firm chest.
“I’ll take that,” Breck says, his voice a raspy caress over my skin. He takes the bag, his hand lingering over mine for a second too long. I feel his eyes on me but don’t meet them.
“Aunt Joss!” Willow exclaims, pulling all the attention to herself. She runs forward and wraps her arms around Joss’s middle.
She really is like a niece to them. I don’t have close friends with kids, and considering I didn’t expect Wes to settle down, I figured I’d never be an aunt. Who knows, maybe that’ll be in my future after all.
Willow releases Joss and turns to me, offering me nearly the same squeal of excitement. “Rory! I’ve missed you!”
My heart goes all gooey in my chest. I’ve missed her too. Who knew that it would take less than a week around this kid to be smitten. Of course, that only made this past week apart that much harder.
“Same here, Bug. How’s snowboarding going?”
“Soooo good.” She drags out the word, and it makes me smile. “I’m linking turns now!” she says, pride evident in her voice.
“Seriously? I can’t wait to see!” I’ll get to see her in action while Wes and Joss are here, and I plan to make the most of it.
I look over her head and everyone’s watching us. Wes and Breck weighed down with bags, Joss with a small smile on her lips.
“Sorry, you need me to open the door.” I slide my hand down Willow’s dark braid and note it looks slightly less messy than usual. She links her hand in mine and I squeeze it tight, walking up the stairs to unlock the door.
“Make yourselves at home,” I say over my shoulder, all of us funneling into my foyer. In no time, it’s a mess of jackets and shoes. My socks join the pile too, because there’s something about being barefoot on these warm hardwood floors that feels homey to me. “Wes, you know where your room is. Breck and Willow, can I get you anything?”
I can play the hostess, no matter how awkward it feels to have him here after everything.
“Do you have hot chocolate?” Willow asks, bouncing on her toes, bubbling with excitement. Breck opens his mouth as if to protest, but I cut him off.
“I sure do. Let’s make some.” I take her hand again and pull her toward the kitchen. “Do you think Uncle Wes and Aunt Joss want a cup too?”
She nods emphatically. “And Daddy too. Right, Daddy?”
She turns us around and Breck’s eyes lock with mine across the space. There’s something tentative there, like he’s unsure of how to act around me.
“Sure, Willow Bear. Can we keep it to a small cup? I’d like for you to sleep tonight.” His gaze never leaves mine while he speaks, and that precocious girl of his notices.
“Daddy, why’re you staring at Rory?”
His head snaps her way. “I wasn’t staring. I just…” He trails off. He definitely was, but so was I.
I turn back toward the kitchen, leaving a spluttering Breck in my wake.
I get started on the hot chocolate, but it’s not enough to distract me from the display of enviable friendship happening in my living room once Joss and Wes join us. I have friends. I do. Well, I have Jamie. There are others in my life I would classify as friends too, but nothing like this. There’s a pang in my chest as I watch them interact. They’re so natural with each other… Comfortable.
Breck picks Willow up by the ankles. Lifting her high, he blows a raspberry on her stomach, making her cackle and squirm against his hold. Wes and Joss join in with their own laughter from where he’s pulled her down against his side on the couch. It’s a Hallmark moment. They’re like a little family, and here I am, on the outside, wondering how I get an invite in.
The sound of shattering glass rends the air and the moment breaks, right along with the mug I just dropped at my feet—too deep in my head to notice how close it was to the edge of the counter. I look down at the broken shards of what was one of my favorite mugs. Moving without thinking, a large piece of porcelain slices through the delicate skin of my bare foot.
“Ow, shit!” I holler, lifting my foot away from the offending object—blood immediately seeping from the cut.
