Chapter Eight
A book lay on her lap, fingers resting lightly on the smooth pages. Her attention, however, wasn’t on the lines of text, but instead, on what was happening outside. Her forehead rested against the window that was usually covered with the curtains to keep the heat in, her eyes completely focused on what was happening just down the road.
The first thing that had caught her attention was the laughter. Male laughter, to be exact. Her eyes had immediately turned to the window beside her, and she had watched in fascination. She knew that Brooklyn was coming over to her place, to bring her the lottery numbers that she had missed off the television (as much as she didn’t want to ask any of them for the numbers, she wasn’t exactly going to run into town only to get her ticket checked). What she didn’t know was that there was going to be a full-on assault outside her place.
She had missed the first snowball being thrown, but she hadn’t missed the woman’s reaction. The open mouth and sparkling eyes before she let out what Alex was calling the “war cry”. Because it had been Brooklyn that proclaimed, “Free for all!”
And it was a free for all. All of the men that she was staying with must have followed her down the road, quiet, biding their time, before someone threw the first snowball towards her. Alex could see it plainly in her mind, making up her own scenario with her creative side. But she watched the battle intently, trying to keep a smile off her face.
A free for all, it was. Friend against friend, boyfriend against girlfriend...it didn’t matter at that point. Most of them were throwing blindly at that point. It didn’t matter who was near them, they were bound to get hit by at least one flying projectile.
What she couldn’t understand was that they were all laughing and smiling. She had never seen a group of people that happy before, that involved in something as childish as hitting another with a fistful of snow. If they could even make a snowball in their haste. Most of the items flying through the air were simply bits of snow, scooped up in hands and arms to dump over someone’s head.
The smile finally did break out of her face when she saw Brooklyn hopping around, trying to get snow out from underneath the collar of her jacket before it melted and dripped down her back. One of them...Lance, if she remembered right, went to help her, before the woman turned around and nailed him in the face with a snowball, laughing at the fact that she had tricked him.
Bodies were flying into snowdrifts, whether it was for protection from the snowballs, or they were being tossed by someone else. A small chuckle escaped her as she watched Brooklyn wrap her arms around her boyfriend’s waist, before pushing him down to the ground and into a large mound of soft snow. He sunk almost immediately, looking at her incredulously before he started to pick himself up and chase her.
Laughter...why did that sound seem so different now? It wasn’t bitter, it wasn’t scornful...it was full of life ad happiness. Something that Alex had never really achieved for herself. Her head shook and her bent back down towards her book when she heard the woman outside calling off the match for now so that she could come towards the cabin.
And from the sounds of it, she didn’t get her wish, because thumps were heard on the porch and on the side of the house from missed throws. Without warning, the door opened and slammed shut, Brooklyn leaning against it. She raised a hand in a wave and bent forward, trying to catch her breath. “Never try to run away from five stronger and faster men. It just doesn’t work that well,” she warned with a laugh as she pulled off her boots and jacket, leaving them in the foyer. “So, what have you been up to lately?” she asked, her eyes going towards something sitting on the couch.
Alex followed her gaze to see the envelope that had been sent to her by courier, containing some of the notes that she was supposed to look over for the biography. Her head shook with a smirk when she realized that it had been four days since she’d gotten it, but she had yet to actually open it and look at the contents. “Nothing much. I was just sent some new pages to look over. It was supposed to be a vacation,” she said with a yawn, putting a bookmark in her page.
“Simon. Is that your last name?” the country singer asked, sitting down with a sigh.
Alex nodded. Everything that Kevin sent to her was under her mother’s maiden name, so that her cover wouldn’t be blown by a post office worker or a courier company. And it had worked, so far. “Yup, that would be me. Alexandra Simon.” Her nose wrinkled at the sound of it. She was Alex M. Colwell, which to her, sounded a hell of a lot better than Simon.
“Hey, my last name isn’t that hot, either,” Brooklyn said. Before Alex could question her, she reached inside her jeans pocket and pulled out a piece of folded newspaper. “The numbers, if you want to check your ticket. Believe me, they’re bad number. I don’t think I had two on my ticket.”
She took the paper from her hand and headed towards her purse to pull out her lottery ticket. “What, Justin didn’t win?”
“He doesn’t buy the stupid things. He’d by a millionaire ten times over by now if he did, but he just can’t understand what we’ve been trying to tell him. Then again, his winning streak was broken, so it doesn’t look like he’ll be buying anything that has to do with the lottery within the next couple years.” When Alex gave her a funny look, she smiled. “He’s addicted to scratch tickets, but he keeps himself pretty well constrained. Doesn’t buy them very often. When he does, he’s guaranteed at least ten dollars, if not more.”
“Does rubbing his head give you any luck, or have you tried it?”
Brooklyn grinned, leaning back on the couch. “Oh, I’ve tried that many times. The only thing it gives me, though, is static electricity. The hair has got to go one of these days.”
With a groan, Alex crumpled up the ticket and threw it on the table. “There go my dreams of buying myself a twenty four karat gold hot tub.”
“Expensive taste, I like you.” She leaned forward and looked out the window. “You know, the greatest gathering of idiots is still outside, if you want to...you know, help me out a little? One against five is no good. Two against five...much better odds.”
Alex at least had the decency to roll her eyes before she turned around. She didn’t know why, but she was treating the woman with respect, something that she didn’t do to many people. Maybe it was the fact that Brooklyn was direct access to her personal fountain of inspiration by aggravation, but she had this feeling, and just a feeling, that she would need her soon enough. For what, she had no idea, but she also didn’t know that she was in the same room as Tim Croft’s ex-fiancé. “No, thanks. I’m just getting over a cold.”
She stood up and shook her head. “Forget that I asked, then. I don’t want you to get sick again, on my account. But I promise, one of these days, we will pull you out for a snowball fight. They seem to be a daily occurrence now, and it seems like everyone is against me.”
A smirk played on her lips. “Hit Chris for me, would you?”
She saluted as she pushed her foot into one of the boots. “No problem. THAT I would be more than happy to do. The bastard tried to face wash me. He’s lucky that he’s still breathing.” That seemed to be a usual threat when it came to her, but still, there was laughter in her voice whenever she said it. That was what Alex couldn’t understand. If she was threatening to get back at someone, why did she say it as if it was a joke?
A small wave came her way before the door shut behind her, followed closely by a shout of surprise when she was, no doubt, pelted with snowballs from all directions. Alex got up off the window seat, the place that she had retreated back to, and pulled the curtains shut, not wanting to see the rest of the friendly display outside.
She had to be quite the lonely person, she figured, as she walked towards the couch to pick up the envelope that she would love to use as a fire starter. Walking up the stairs, she shook her head to herself, holding onto the banister. Brooklyn had everything that she was supposed to have. Friends, a seemingly happy life, a loving boyfriend...everything that Alex had pushed away from her in high school, and throughout the rest of her life, really, but something that she had wanted so desperately.
Because being alone was one of the worst things in the world. Sure, she had Kevin and Sophia, both of whom wouldn’t give her the time of day if she hadn’t been THE author, as she was commonly called at the head office of Dell Publishing. Her mother was there...although sometimes, she wished she wasn’t. Her father was somewhere on the other side of the world, with his harem of women, even though she had to give him credit for calling every now and then. At least he didn’t badger her or use her because of her name. That was definitely a change.
But she was alone. She knew very few people in Seattle. The few that she did know, she didn’t have to use one hand to count them all. Definitely not close friends, or friends at all. She wouldn’t even bother to call them acquaintances. She didn’t know them, they didn’t know her, and that was the way she thought it was supposed to be.
Then, that day came around. The day that she and Chris had their confrontation right outside her driveway. She hated the way that Brookly had immediately tried to save her friend some time by settling it quickly, but at the same time, she had to admire that in her. Grudgingly respect it. A lot of people would have let someone battle it out alone, but she had come out and said her piece. Hell, she even ran to the vehicle to get him a piece of paper and a pen when he asked. She never even questioned it.
Best friends, she thought with a sigh as she fell down on her bed, fingering the edge of the envelope. Chris and Brooklyn were best friends, and from what she had been told and overhead, they hadn’t really known each other that long to come to that type of relationship. Yet, they had, and they seemed incredibly close. She had no doubt that they went to each other for advice, a comforting word or touch...anything they needed, they could get from the other person.
It didn’t stop with Chris, though. Because she also had her boyfriend. Someone who loved her with every fibre of his being and undoubtedly supported her with whatever she did. He was there with a hand for her to hold, arms to keep her safe, and eyes that clearly told her anything she wanted to hear. Not to forget the fact that Justin, Joey, and Lance were there for her, too. She had shoulders to cry on, ears to listen to her complaints or problems, arms and hands to comfort her, and voices to offer support and love.
What did Alex have? Not one little bit of that. She kept to herself, because she had to. It was a survival tactic, one that she had stood by all this time, one that she never stopped using. No one gets close, and no one can hurt her. So why wasn’t Brooklyn worried about that?
She had obviously been hurt before. There were certain words, names, and dates that she had heard reference to, and she could tell. Just because she wasn’t around people didn’t mean that she couldn’t read them and know what they were thinking. Brooklyn had been hurt before, and probably badly, but she still had everything. Everything that Alex didn’t. Everything that Alex wanted.
How could one person be so lucky, and another one not have a little touch of that luck? You make your own luck, the saying says, but she didn’t even know how to do that! It wasn’t exactly a lesson that you learned in school or were told by your parents, but it seemed like the six that lived down the road had found the secret formula. They knew how to make their own luck and by doing that, they had come into each other’s lives.
She knew almost nothing about their backgrounds. She didn’t know if they had happy childhoods or bad ones. Still, whatever might have happened in their lives, they had overcome those things, whether they be fears, problems, concerns...and made it to where they were today. Happy, full of life, and living without a care in the world.
Alexandra Marie Colwell wasn’t like that at all. She worried about a lot of things. She had deadlines to meet for her books, she had to worry about whether she could write or not. She had to worry about anyone finding out about who she was. She was surprised that she didn’t have any gray hair yet. Nothing in her twenty seven years had come easy. She had worked for every little bit of it, and what did she have to show for it?
An empty house, an empty heart, and an empty life. Nothing but a big, black void that should have been filled with something. Anything.
It should be so easy to just let herself open up, she figured. But any time that anyone asked her a question, even something simple, she immediately snapped at them. She was bitter, she knew that. Oh, did she know that. She had to sit there and watch so many people go through life being happy. Kevin and Sophia were happily married and expecting a child, no doubt. Her mother was happy with her soap operas and romance novels. Her dad was happy with women that he could use and toss away. The six down the road were happy to just be with each other. So why didn’t she have something to be happy about?
A tear rolled down her face as she thought about it a little more. And she wasn’t too excited about what she was thinking. It was so depressive, so unhappy, that she wondered if she found the reason as to why she never smiled. But she had smiled downstairs, if only for a few seconds. It came back to what she had thought before; she was watching someone and almost feeding off of their joy. That wasn’t happiness. That was being amused at something she saw.
All she wanted was a light in the dark. Her own light, just for her.
Chris sighed and hit the radio with the palm of his hand as the signal threatened to cut out again. “I want music, damn it, but there is no way in hell that I’m digging through Brooke’s choice of CDs,” he said as his eyes went towards the travel case that sat between the two front seats. He had no doubt that it contained nothing but country music, and country music was one thing that he couldn’t stand.
He didn’t even know why he was talking aloud. It wasn’t like anyone would actually hear him. There was no one with him. All alone, again, he thought to himself as he turned the wheel of the Explorer slowly, trying to make the last corner without making the vehicle flip into the ditch. After all, it would be a hell of a way to spend a holiday.
For some reason, a reason that he couldn’t explain, he looked towards the cabin that Alex was staying in, although house would have been more of an appropriate word. He didn’t really care if she was there or not, but his curiosity needed to be fulfilled. To his surprise, the lights were on throughout the house, and while he knew that there could have been a timer set to turn them on while she was gone, he could plainly see a shadow moving through one of the rooms.
“Well, it makes me feel a little better to know that I’m not the only one by themselves on a holiday.” And he winced as soon as the words had left his mouth and filtered into the emptiness of the vehicle. He didn’t wish that on his worst enemy. It sucked more than he wanted to admit, being alone, when he knew that everyone else had flown out to be with their families or loved ones.
And the worst part was knowing that he had had plenty of invitations, but he didn’t accept one of them. As much as he appreciated the gesture, he didn’t want to impose on anyone, and besides, there was nothing wrong with staying alone...unless you added the boredom and lack of voices into the equation. Then, it wasn’t fun at all.
His head shook as he pulled into his driveway and sat there for a minute. “I can’t believe I’m actually thinking about going over there,” he said with a groan, slamming his head back against the head rest. His eyes closed in pain as he mulled over the question he had asked himself. Did he really want to brave the Ice Queen just to wish her a happy holiday?
“Being polite is a bitch,” he whispered, shutting off the engine and stepping out, making sure to lock the door. Not that it mattered, he thought. It wasn’t like anyone was really going to come all the way up the side of a mountain just to steal a vehicle. His eyes rolled as he continued up into the cabin, slamming the door shut behind him as he turned on one of the lights.
Even though no one was there to complain to him, he took off his shoes and jacket, actually hanging up the latter, before making his way up to his room. As he walked, he pulled off the sweatshirt that he had been wearing for most of the day before tossing it on the floor of his bedroom and moving towards the closet to find something that wasn’t stained, and was actually washed.
His prayers were answered when he found a heavy, cable knit sweater that he swore he had thrown out two years ago. He pulled it over his head and tucked the tee shirt underneath it into his jeans, moving to make sure that he hadn’t completely wrecked the lazy job he had done on his hair earlier that day. But for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why he was actually paying attention to what he was wearing and what he looked like, when he knew he was just going to Alex’s for a few minutes and then walking back.
Because you want to be warm on the walk, he told himself. As he stood up, he blinked furiously a few times, cursing out loud. In that short amount of time, something managed to get underneath his contact lens, he figured. All he knew was that it was causing him major pain.
Still wincing, his eye shut, he practically ran out of his room and went into the bathroom. It didn’t take him long to take both of them out, and he raised his head afterwards, looking at his reflection in the mirror. He started to laugh softly. With his bloodshot eyes, he looked like he as on some sort of drug, or many of them at once. Shaking his head, he did the only thing he could and reached for the bottle of Visine that someone had brought with them and tilted his head back, ready to scream in frustration when he battled with the eye drops. There was nothing that he hated more than using anything like that. Putting in his contacts was enough of a struggle in the morning, considering how much he was creeped out with the idea of putting ANYTHING near his eyes.
They somehow managed to get in there, after six or so failed attempts. Chris straightened up and wiped away the liquid that had missed its mark from his face, turning away. He was taking his time, he knew that. The more time he took, the longer it would be until he walked over there. However, the more time he spent in that cabin, the more he was making sure that everything about him looked right. He usually didn’t care, but for some reason, this time, he did.
He couldn’t stay there another minute, he realized. Even that short amount of time with no one around was making him go crazy. He was around people, twenty four seven, and the one time in about a year and a half that he was alone...he couldn’t stand it. “Why else would I be standing in front of the mirror? I’m turning into Lance,” he muttered, stomping down the stairs to get his jacket, making a detour in the living room to find his glasses.
And finally, with his jacket on and his favorite heavy black boots, he was ready to brave the walk to Alex’s place, and of course, brave her lethal tongue. He rolled his eyes for a final time before opening the door, making sure that the keys to the front door were in his pocket before he stepped onto the porch, wondering why the hell he had to be so nice sometimes.
The walk was nothing. If anything, the cool air and the night darkened scenery was a nice distraction, but it didn’t take too long to end up on her porch, staring at the door. “I’m going to be murdered, and no one’s going to find out about it for two days. If she has a butcher’s knife in her hand, I swear I’m going to scream and run,” he whispered, shaking his head in mock fear as he raised his fist and knocked on the door, lighter than he normally would.
Footsteps sounded as she walked towards the door, followed by the sound of fumbling locks. The door swung open and Alex stared at him in surprise for a moment. “Uh...come on in,” she said, opening the door wider for him to get through.
His eyes widened in amazement. What was that, the first time that she had said anything to him without it sounding nasty or derogatory? “Thanks,” he said, unzipping his jacket to make sure he didn’t start sweating. She obviously had a nice fire going, if it was that warm in there.
“I...um...just made some hot chocolate if you...want some?” she half asked, looking unsure of what to say.
Again, he was practically astounded. “Yeah, sure, that’s fine. Um...actually, I just came over to...” Trailing off, he looked towards her. “Wait, just WHY are you being so nice all of a sudden?”
Her shoulders moved in a shrug as she started in to the kitchen, gesturing for Chris to follow her. “To tell you the truth, I have no idea why. I guess I just didn’t want to start a fight, or be involved in one right now. I don’t think I could even think of a comeback. I have a lot on my mind.”
His head shook as he stood in the doorway, unsure of what the hell was happening. Maybe he had entered The Twilight Zone or something, because this wasn’t adding up. “I didn’t think that you would be here, actually. I thought that you might have gone off to be with your family.”
She nodded towards the table. “You can sit, you know. There’s nothing stopping you from that.” Her back moved up and down in a sigh as she poured out two mugs of hot chocolate. He noticed with a small smile that she had made it by hand, rather than use a mix. “My dad is somewhere in Australia right now, and that’s a little far for me to fly just for a little bit of turkey. My mom, on the other hand...we can’t have dinner together without making it look like a bar room brawl. We don’t exactly see eye to eye.” Walking to the table, she handed him a mug and sat down across from him. “Why aren’t you with your family?”
It seemed to be a genuine enough question, and he didn’t have any problem answering. “Oh, my mom is on vacation on some tropical island. I actually sent her there, so it’s sort of my fault that I’m not having a piece of pie right now.” Her eyes locked on him, and it looked as if she was waiting for more of an explanation. “I had invitations all over the map from everyone to spend the day with them, but I decided not to bug their families. Besides, I’d probably eat them out of house and home.”
They sat there for a moment, completely silent. Very faintly, they could hear the icicles cracking and groaning on the cabin. Very slowly, Alex raised the mug to her lips and took a tentative sip of the hot liquid. “My family was never really big on holidays, really,” she said, just to fill the uncomfortable silence. Why in the world she was explaining to him why she wasn’t somewhere other than Colorado confused her beyond belief, but she was, anyway. “When my grandmother was alive, we spent a lot of time over there for holiday dinners and stuff, but when she died, we just stopped going. It was the only place that we were really a family.”
He winced, hoping that he hadn’t brought up anything uncomfortable. “I’m sorry...about your grandmother, I mean.”
She looked at him strangely and shook her head. “Chris, she died when I was nine. That was eighteen years ago. I think I’m over it.”
Starting to laugh, he looked down at the table and tried to stop himself. Again, she gave him a funny look. “Don’t you find this just a little funny? You and I have done nothing but fight since we’ve met, and now we’re sitting here, trying to say something without offending the other person. That’s strange.”
Amazingly, she let a small chuckle escape her before...it wasn’t a grimace, it wasn’t a smirk...she smiled. She actually smiled and directed it towards him. Now he was certain that his Twilight Zone theory was alive and kicking. “Yeah, it’s definitely strange. Is this...is this how you and Brooke were when you first met?”
“No. Surprisingly, we got along right away. Not something that happens very often, but we just clicked. We don’t have a hell of a lot in common, other than the fact that we both know J...Josh.”
Her head tilted to the side. “I’ve noticed that you guys always do that, like you’re not sure what to call him.”
Oh, where was Brooklyn when he needed her. She could cover almost anything up. “He has so many nicknames, we don’t know which one to use. For the most part, we stick with Josh. It’s just easier to remember.” She nodded and took another sip of her hot chocolate. “I can’t believe that I passed up so many people, and I’m not having turkey dinner on Thanksgiving,” he groaned with a laugh, resting back in his chair.
It was almost as if, after her smile, everything had gotten completely comfortable in the kitchen. Silently, they had called a temporary truce, even if it only lasted for the night. “Well, I wasn’t exactly planning on cooking a full turkey, and it’s a little late for that, but I was going to go slightly tradition.” When she caught his look, she smiled again. It was small, barely there, but it still managed to show up a little. Maybe neither of them really wanted to be alone on a holiday. “I know that there’s enough sliced turkey breast for two sandwiches.”
He shrugged. “It’s better than having a can of soup, I guess. Why not?”
“The word of the day is legs. Why don’t you come to my house and spread the word?”
Chris laughed, leaning back on the couch. “You’re kidding,” he said between laughs. “Some guy actually said that to you? Well, it’s more creative than a lot of them out there. At least you didn’t get the ‘keg in your pants-tap your ass’ line. That one always made me shudder.”
Alex shook her head, reaching for a piece of popcorn out of the bowl they had put on the living room table, and were snacking out of. “I swear to God. The guy just walked past me on the street and gave me the line. I didn’t know whether to laugh or hit him.”
His eyes narrowed. “Let me guess, you went for what was behind door number two.”
“Nope, I walked away. The guy definitely wasn’t discouraged, because as I was walking away, I heard him use the same line on another woman. I wonder if it actually works. Anyway, it’s your turn. Best pick-up line that you’ve used.”
He grinned and tossed a piece of popcorn in his mouth. “I don’t use pick-up lines. I don’t need to, when I look like this.”
She gave him a blank look, before it slowly cleared. “Sorry, I was trying to stop from vomiting. I KNOW that you’ve used a pick-up line before. You just...have that look about you. So, which one was it?”
Sighing, he leaned back again and thought for a moment before smiling. “If you and I were squirrels, could I bust a nut in your hole?” He waited for her to stop laughing. “Believe it or not, I got that one from Brooke. She’s dangerous when it comes to one liners and practical jokes.”
“Don’t tell me that Josh actually snagged her using one of those cheesy lines, did he?”
Chris laughed again, moving to stretch out his legs. “Nope. Those two, it was an instantaneous thing. They swear, the second that they saw each other, they fell in love, even though she was already involved with someone. He didn’t need any lines when it came to her, but I do know that they used to have joke wars, just to see who was better.” He watched her closely, and waited until she was taking a sip of her drink before saying anything. “How do you like your eggs? Poached, scrambled, or fertilized?”
Her hand immediately covered her mouth as she tried to laugh without choking. Her face started to turn red, and he was wondering if she was breathing at all, before she swallowed and looked at him. “You’re evil. Pure evil.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he shot back with a grin. “All the other lines I know are a little too...dirty to say in the presence of a female that isn’t drunk and sitting at the bar. And the only reason you can use them then is because most of them won’t remember in the morning.”
Her head shook as she put her glass down, just to be on the safe side. “So, do you have any other talents, besides trying make people choke to death, I mean.”
“Yeah. I can stand on my head and sing ‘London Bridges Falling Down’, but not at the same time. That’s too much for me to do at once. OH, I know. I can play ‘Mary Had A Little Lamb’ on your sink pipes.”
She nodded slowly. “Uh huh, sure.”
Chris shrugged his shoulders. “Okay, so I lied about the first two, but I really can play that song on the sink pipes. I swear to God. I was bored one day, and not too successful at fixing my sink, and I ended up playing a verse with the monkey wrench. It’s easier with two spoons, though.”
“Fine. Show me, then.”
His eyes widened. “You have to be kidding me. You want me to...” He stopped and looked at her with a sigh. “Got a pillow? I don’t feel like having the bottom of your cupboard leave an indent on the back of my head.” She reached behind her and tossed him the pillow from the arm chair that she was sitting on. “Come on, you might as well witness the genius that is me, rather than just hear it.”
Alex was up and running to the kitchen before he even got off the couch. “Just two regular spoons?”
“A teaspoon and a tablespoon, actually. I can’t believe that I’m actually going to do this.” Rolling his eyes with a laugh, he opened her cabinets and started to take out a few items that would be in his way, leaving them on the kitchen floor before putting the pillow down and leaning back against it. “Spoons, please.”
“Yes, doctor,” she said sarcastically, slapping them into his hands.
He snorted and took hold of the spoons, tapping each pipe to make sure that he could do it. “I’m going to end up using the top of the cupboard, too. Anyway, are you ready?”
“I’m just dying with anticipation,” she chuckled, sitting down cross legged on the floor to watch him. He took a deep breath and tapped the pipes again, before he started to play a verse of ‘Mary Had A Little Lamb’, laughing when she clapped at the end. “All right, Beethoven, try something else to really impress me.”
“I’m more of a Chopin kind of guy, but thanks for the compliment. I’ve never played anything else before. Any suggestions?”
Her fingers tapped on the ground as she thought about it. “I’ll give you something simple. Happy Birthday. How’s that?”
He shook his head. “Sing it for me. I need to hear it to be able to play it.”
“No way in hell. You sing it. I’d rather not make all the animals around here cower in pain when they hear me. Besides, I’m sure you could do a much better job than me.” Clearing his throat, he started to hum the tune, but shook his head and tried again, this time singing it. “Okay, now that was slightly impressive, and no one sounds good singing that song.”
He winked at her from under the cupboard. “I would bow if I could. Okay, I think I got it.” He played around for a moment before tapping out the tune that she wanted, laughing while she faked her enthusiasm. “Thank you, thank you. The next show will be at two in the morning.”
She watched as he pulled himself out from under the cupboards and put back the bottles that he had taken out before picking up the pillow and groaning as he stood up. “Yeah, it’s not exactly comfortable to sit on the floor. And as for your show at two,” she stopped and checked her watch, “it’s already two thirty.”
“You’re kidding,” he exclaimed, turning to look at the digital clock on the oven. “Oh, wow, I’m sorry. I didn’t even realize what time it was. I probably shouldn’t have kept you up this late.”
She shrugged. “No big deal. I usually fall asleep around this time, anyway. I’ve been working pretty late these nights.” He opened his mouth to say something, and she was sure that he was going to try and catch her in a lie. “I know, it’s supposed to be my vacation, but my boss sent ahead a part of a manuscript that he wants me to read over and correct. I’m not too crazy about it, but he is the boss, after all.”
His mouth closed and he shook his head as he reached over to put the spoons he had used in the sink. “Do you want me to help you clean up before I leave?”
“Nah, it’s okay. We didn’t make much of a mess. Nothing that I can’t handle in the morning, anyway.” She followed him as he walked into the foyer for his jacket and shoes. “Chris...why exactly did you come over here, anyway?” she finally questioned, watching as he struggled with his jacket.
He smiled hesitantly. “Well...I just figured that I should come over here and wish you a happy Thanksgiving. It sucks to be alone during the holidays, so I thought it couldn’t hurt.” He opened the door and grinned brightly. “So, Happy Thanksgiving, Alexandra.”
“Alex, please,” she said quietly. “Happy Thanksgiving...and thank you.”
He turned quickly. “No, thank you. Besides, it’s nice to talk to you when you’re not trying to bite my head off.” She laughed quietly and shut the door behind him, turning to go back to the living room and pick up the two glasses and empty bowl. “It’s a shame that he’s so nice,” she whispered to herself as she bent down to get her glass. “Because I’m still going to need him to get rolling on that novel, and the only way to do that is to pick a few fights.”
“Hey, over here!” a female voice called out. Chris turned to look as Brooklyn tried to jump up so that he could see her, waving her hand. He grinned and waved her over, watching as JC’s much taller frame followed her. “You really should have come back to Tennessee with us. Even you couldn’t have finished up all the left-overs,” she said with a laugh before reaching up and grabbing him for a hug.
“I was perfectly fine by myself, Brooke. It’s not like it was that big of a deal.” He looked up at JC. “How was the flight?”
He rolled his eyes and rubbed his shoulder, where he had his backpack and Brooklyn’s bag hanging off of it. “Very annoying. She wouldn’t shut up for ten minutes. You’d think that she would have slept or something, but no.”
Brooklyn shot him a hot look before reaching up on her toes to kiss him quickly. “Thanks, but I did shut up for a little while. He fell asleep on me, so I had to watch the movie,” she explained, yawning. “But now that we’re back, I’ll be more than happy to get some sleep. Is everyone else back?”
He nodded and pulled the keys out of his pocket. “Yeah, Justin came back late last night, and he was the last one, other than you guys. So, how was dinner?”
“You’re actually asking that question? Austin cooked and made sure that Mia was out of the kitchen the entire time. I swear, I have never seen so much food for just four people before. It was amazing, what he had made,” JC said. “And I think we all ate a little too much. We all crashed in the living room and stayed there most of the night.”
Chris grinned and led them towards the exit. “So, you spent Thanksgiving with Brooke. Does that mean she’s going with you for Christmas?”
She shook her head. “Nope. We’re going our separate ways until New Years. I am, however, spending Easter with him and his family. But Christmas is kind of off limits, since I’m staying out here.” She was quiet for a minute, before she tugged on his arm. “Chris, I still feel bad that you didn’t come with us. I mean, you were alone the whole time. You know that we wouldn’t have minded having you. Which reminds me. Mia wanted us to bitch you out for not coming. She was looking forward to picking on you again.”
His eyes rolled as they walked outside into the cold air. “Don’t worry about it. Besides, I didn’t mind. It actually wasn’t that bad,” Chris said as he thought back to the night he has spent at Alex’s. “In fact, Thanksgiving was pretty cool this year.”
Chapter Nine
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