Maggie
“Fifth bar of the night!” Jeremy’s speech was slurred but his eyes were filled with an unholy glee.
“Personal best,” Peter agreed with a snort, holding up a hand for a high five that Jeremy attempted to oblige him with but failed, swinging wildly and almost toppling off his chair.
Excellent.
I rolled my eyes and sipped my vodka soda, glancing out of the corner of my eye to see Sam’s expression. He wasn’t drunk like his other two friends—he was too responsible to let himself get trashed in public. Either way, though, I knew at least two of them were only sips away from tearfully telling me how much our collective friendship meant to them, and I so did not want to stick around for that.
“Maybe we ought to hit the road,” I murmured to Sam, jerking a thumb over my shoulder toward our drunken companions. “These two can grab a ride, right?”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Jeremy held up a hand and then dropped it back in his lap with a smack. “We didn’t get to the main event.”
“Yeah,” Peter agreed, clicking his beer against Jeremy’s.
“Maybe we better talk about it another night,” Sam said with a patient smile.
I shook my head and sighed. This ought to be good. “What’s the main event?”
Sam rolled his eyes. “It’s what my genius friends have taken to calling our big snowboarding trip.”
“Not exactly.” Jeremy eyed Sam, then turned to me. “The main event for tonight was going to be us convincing you to go. Peter and I figured if we got enough booze in you, you might reconsider.”
I swirled my drink with its tiny red straw and frowned. “And how do you think your plan is going so far?”
“You tell me.” Jeremy waggled his eyebrows comically. “Don’t you want to spend more time with us on the snow-topped mountains of Colorado?”
“Appealing as that sounds, no,” I shot back with a grin.
“Come on. You have no idea how it feels to slice through the powder on your snowboard,” Peter protested. “It’s like heaven on earth.”
“I also have no idea what it feels like to break my leg, but I don’t want to find that out either,” I countered easily, taking another long pull from my drink. “Did you know that more than forty people died snowboarding last year alone? A snowboarder who gets on a mountain twenty times a year is likely to be injured once every seven years. You can’t argue statistics like that.”
“It could be fun…” Sam hedged with a shrug.
“Breaking my femur after wildly careening down the side of a mountain? I think not.”
Sam gave me a dead-eyed stare. “Not that part, scaredy cat. The trip, I mean. These guys aren’t right about much but you should come along. We’re doing New Year’s in style. Hot tubs and hot toddies in a winter wonderland.”
“Did you not get the stats I sent you the last time you tried to convince me to go snowboarding?” I demanded.
“Some of us don’t live our whole lives by the numbers,” Sam said, a teasing light making his dark blue eyes sparkle.
Stop it, idiot.
Best friends weren’t supposed to notice things like that about each other. It was just weird.
“I fail to see what’s wrong with it.” I shrugged, feeling suddenly warm despite the relative chilliness of the room, and sucked down the rest of my drink.
“Come on, Mags. Take a risk.” Those eyes searched mine and, despite myself, I could sense my resolve weakening. I hated saying no to him, even when his daredevil lifestyle threatened my cocoon of safety. We were as different as night and day, but for some reason, we clicked and I felt more comfortable around him than pretty much anyone else.
A stab of guilt shot through me and I cleared my throat.
“I really can’t. Trevor and I probably have plans, I just can’t remember what they are.” I pulled out that feeble old excuse and Sam glanced at his other friends before turning his attention back to me.
“Right. Trevor. Hey, you need another drink? Or a water?” He pointed at my empty glass.
“Nah,” I said. “I’m ready to crash for the night if you think Heckle and Jeckle will be okay without us here to babysit.” I jerked my head toward Peter and Jeremy, and Sam laughed.
“Come on, guys, let’s head out. I’ll give you a ride.” He snagged his coat off the back of his chair and slung it over my shoulders before motioning for his friends to join us as we moved to the bar to settle up.
“I’ve got hers and mine,” he said to the bored-looking bartender. I protested, holding my hand out, but he moved away before I had the chance to argue.
“You don’t have to do that,” I said.
“I think I can handle a vodka soda on my bill.” Sam’s lips twitched into the confident grin that had always made all the girls swoon.
The other guys paid their tabs and collected their cards and, together, we all made our way to Sam’s massive truck. Still snapping insults back and forth, the two boys hopped in the back of the extended cab while I took my spot up front and rolled down the window to feel the crisp, winter air.
“It’s going to snow,” I said.
“It better. If I don’t take my nephews sledding soon, they’re going to murder me,” Jeremy murmured.
I nodded. “You’re in luck, then. I can sense it coming.”
I breathed in deep. Maybe winter sports weren’t my thing, but there was nothing I liked better than the smell on the air just before the snow. It reminded me of Christmas or a cozy evening by a crackling fire with a book in one hand and mug of hot cocoa in the other. All the things that made wintertime on the east coast the best time of year.
“You’re going to catch your death with the window down like that,” Sam warned.
“Ha! Look who’s the conservative one now?” I crossed my arms over my chest triumphantly. “Seriously, though, you know how I love the smell. Just let me leave it down for one more minute,” I pleaded.
He laughed and nodded like I knew he would.
We made our way to Jeremy and Peter’s apartment first and, after making sure they had their phones, wallets, and keys, dropped them off. Silently, we watched them make their way to the front door as the first flurries of snow drifted to the ground. When they’d disappeared behind the wide metal doors of their complex, I turned to Sam again.
“Never again without a warning,” I said flatly.
“With them?” He chuckled. “I know. I actually didn’t know they were coming for sure until last minute or I would’ve warned you. They were in rare form tonight.”
I laughed. “That’s one way to put it. I’ve never seen Jeremy give his number to so many women in one night.”
“I’ve never seen the women get rid of it as fast, either. Just balled up bar napkins piled high like fallen soldiers.” He tsked in mock sympathy.
“If he cooled it with the cheesy lines, he would probably do better,” I said, rolling up the window with a sigh.
“I heard him tell that redhead by the jukebox that she looked like his first wife.”
“Ouch,” I said with a laugh and then paused. “Wait…he’s never been married, has he?”
Sam shot a wry grin in my direction. “Exactly.”
I covered my eyes with my arm and groaned. “Ugh. Jeremy, why?”
For the next few minutes on the ride to my place, we deconstructed the rest of the night, chatting comfortably.
As we turned on to my street, dread began to close over me like a dark cloud until I remembered Trevor wouldn’t be waiting for me. He’d asked to stay over tonight and I’d begged off. The sense of relief washing over me didn’t bode well for my current relationship, and I vowed that tomorrow, I’d finally do what I’d been putting off for months.
The old tried and true pros and cons list.
That settled, I was feeling slightly less like garbage as Sam pulled up to the curb in front of my apartment building.
“I’m not tired. Want to come in and watch bad Christmas movies with me?”
“Christmas is over.”
“Never too early to start for next year,” I argued. This, too, was something Sam knew. My Christmas movie collection was extensive and full of favorites.
I tended to break out my collection mid-October, easing into the season with The Nightmare Before Christmas, but by this time of year and straight through January?
It was a new movie every night. I had a lot of ground to cover.
“Besides, I have something for you,” I added, sweetening the pot in case my promise of an awful movie hadn’t convinced him.
“You broke our rule again, didn’t you?” Sam asked.
I grinned. “You’re going to like your present.”
“I always like my present, but you’re not supposed to get me one. We had a deal. And, again, quick reminder… Christmas is over.”
“Exactly. So I didn’t break the rules. It’s an early birthday gift. And you’re going to really like it. Like, really, really like it.”
“Fine, then you can give it to me in February for my birthday.” His firm mouth quirked into a crooked half-smile as he surveyed the road in front of him and I knew I had him. “And understand that, when you get me presents, it really sets the bar pretty high for what I’m going to get you in return.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” I said, pulling the huge shoulders of the borrowed coat around me.
“Yes, you do,” he said, shooting me an incredulous stare. “You’re a super-human gift giver. Nobody can compare.”
I swung open my door as he turned off the ignition and we both hopped out of the car.
“Super-human is a bit of a stretch,” I said as and we stepped out into the gently falling snow and made our way to the double doors.
“It’s not,” he argued, holding the door open for me and then stepping through. “Like that gift from last year—”
“I just pay attention is all.” I shrugged.
“But who else would get someone the exact replica of their train collection from childhood? You contacted my mother behind my back for pictures,” he reminded me as we climbed into the waiting elevator.
I pressed the button for the third floor and frowned. “Your gifts are thoughtful, too. I love my body wash collection. I now have a fragrance for every mood.”
This was true. For every birthday, holiday, or special occasion over the past eight years, Sam had gotten me a different kind of soap and lotion gift basket. At first I wondered if he thought I stunk, but by now I’d learned to roll with it. It was sweet in his Sam kind of way.
We made our way down the carpeted atrium and slowed to a stop by my door. I jammed the key in the lock and turned, shooting him a quick glance.
“Speaking of gifts, what did you end up getting for Melanie this year?” I asked as the door swung open. We stepped in and he made a beeline for the mini-bar I’d created with a glass and iron bar cart, and festive glasses in all shapes and sizes.
Sam poured himself a glass of the whiskey I kept especially for him and gulped down two fingers of it before scrubbing a hand through his dark hair. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Why not? I bet she loved—”
“We broke up a few days ago,” he blurted, his tone more curt than I’d ever heard it.
My shoulders fell and I plopped down onto my overstuffed, gray sofa with a sigh. Seemed like I wasn’t the only one with trouble in romance-land. “What do you mean? How come?”
“It wasn’t working out.” He shrugged his broad shoulders and took another sip. “You want?” he asked, gesturing to the vodka bottle questioningly.
I ignored his attempt to change the subject and pressed harder. “I don’t get it, Sam. Why? She was so nice. And I thought you liked her.”
“I did like her. We just had some...issues.”
“Like what?” I pressed.
There was a long pause and Sam used the time to inspect his drink as if it held the answers to life’s most profound questions. Finally, he turned to face me. “Irreconcilable differences.” The note of finality ringing in his voice was a clear indication that, as far as he was concerned, the subject was closed, but damn it, a person didn’t hide things like this from their best friend for days without a good reason.
“Why are you being so closed off?” I asked gently, patting the space beside me. “Come on, it’s me. Let me in, Sam.”
He eyed me over the top of his highball glass, took a sip, and then let out a deep sigh. “Fine. If you swear you’ll stop badgering me, I’ll tell you. But remember, you asked.”
He joined me on the couch, keeping a safe distance between us. “There were some issues in the bedroom.”
“I...see,” I said, ignoring the rush of heat that shot to my cheeks.
As close as we were, Sam and I rarely talked about sex outside of bawdy jokes. Our personal sex lives were something we both sort of tacitly tiptoed around. And now, as I was facing his head on, I realized why. Sure, Melanie was nice. But when I thought of her in Sam’s bed, all snuggled up against him, with her naked bits touching his naked bits?
It made me feel all squidgy inside and I didn’t like it one bit.
Another one to file under be careful what you wish for, dummy.
“So, like what kind of problems?” I ventured finally. I’d been the one to open this can of worms and now that I’d finally coerced him into talking, it seemed only polite to make sure he knew if he wanted to keep talking, I was here for him.
“I just wanted to have sex more than she did, that’s all.”
“In a general kind of way or like a crazy four-times-a-day kind of way?”
He stared at me like I’d sprouted a second head.
“What? It’s a serious question,” I said.
“What do you take me for?” he asked, running his finger around the edge of his glass. “No, I just wanted, I don’t know, a few times a week? Maybe for her to initiate sometimes?”
An image of me standing in Sam’s bedroom doorway in nothing but a trench coat filled my head and I shoved it away ruthlessly.
I swallowed to moisten my suddenly dry throat and nodded. “That sounds nice, actually. And very reasonable.” I patted his arm awkwardly. “Trevor never wants to anymore,” I added.
Why had I even said that? It was true, but Jesus, we’d already crossed one invisible boundary tonight. It was like I was trying to make this as weird as possible for both of us.
An uncomfortable silence settled over the room and Sam took another sip of his drink, then set it down on the table next to him.
“Never? I can’t imagine—” he broke off, his voice sounding low and gravelly before he cleared his throat. “Are things okay otherwise?”
“He just isn’t interested for some reason.”
What I didn’t bother to add was that I hardly cared anymore. I had the distinct feeling that tomorrow’s pro list was going to be woefully short.
Sam’s gaze lingered on my face for a long moment and then he turned away. “Well, I’m sure you guys will work it out,” he said, slapping his knees and shooting me a bright, forced smile. “What’s tonight’s movie? To Grandmother’s House We Go?”
I tugged off the coat on my shoulders and tossed it onto the chair across from us as I stood. “Been there, seen that twice already this season. Tonight, it’s Mistle-Tones.”
“No,” Sam groaned.
“Come on, Sammy.” I flicked on the TV and headed into my bedroom, calling back to him over my shoulder. “Can you get it off my Netflix queue while I change?”
I took an extra couple minutes finding my pj’s because I was still feeling weird and unsettled, but by the time I went back out, I’d managed to talk myself down.
We settled in close together, ready to slip back into our more regular, comfortable routine.
Still, as the movie started, I couldn’t help but think of what Sam had said.
If the amount of sex in a relationship was a deal breaker for him, maybe it should be for me, too. I lived a safe and boring life by choice. If I took sex out of the equation too, I might as well just nap for the next sixty years.
That so didn’t work for me.
New top priority for tomorrow?
Find out what was going on inside Trevor’s head so I could decide if a pros and cons list was even worth doing. Because that awkward exchange with my bestie a few minutes ago?
Had been the sexiest thing to happen to me in months.
Not good.