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The bare skeletons of the trees are still trimmed with fresh white snow along their branches, the temperature staying too low for it to melt off. I take a deep breath and fill my lungs with the crisp, bracing chill of the air. Every season is beautiful up here, and the scene that surrounds us is lovely enough to make up for the cold.
When we step into Brumehill Brews, I’m still glad to be out of it, though. There’s nothing quite like stepping out of the cold and into a warm, bustling café right in the frozen center of winter.
I order a bowl of vegetable soup and a hot green tea; Summer orders a sandwich and a coffee. When we take our seats, I dip down to breathe in the warm steam rising from my teacup, letting it suffuse through me and unthaw my chest.
Feeling warmed up, I shrug off my jacket and rub my hands together before taking my first blissful sip.
“Know what Hudson said the other day?” Summer asks.
I smirk. “Well, I know what Hudson said to you a couple nights ago, when he clearly didn’t know I was walking past your door to the bathroom.”
My smirk grows into a grin when Summer’s cheeks flush red. I’m happy for Summer that she has an incredible sex life, and I’m also happy that, since we live together, it gives me plenty of ammunition to make her blush like this.
My best friend pushes past my comment. “He told me that he and Tuck went to the bookstore the other day, and Tuck was asking if he knew what your favorite books are.”
I groan and roll my eyes. I slurp up a spoonful of my soup to counteract the sour taste that rises in my mouth from hearing Tuck’s name.
“Just fishing for material to hit on me some more,” I explain.
“You know,” Summer says, drawing out the syllables like she’s leading up to something she knows I’m going to dispute, “he’s really not as much of a cocky playboy as he seems.”
I narrow my eyes at her accusingly.
“Well, okay, he kind of is both of those things,” she concedes. “But he actually really is a nice guy.”
My lower lip curls. “Whose side are you on?”
“Yours. Always. I’m just saying. Tuck might be cocky, spoiled, a little obnoxious sometimes … but he’s not a bad guy.”
“Hm,” is all the answer I give, shifting my attention to slowly slurping my hot soup.
I can understand why Summer would want me and Tuck to get along better. Tuck and Hudson have strangely kind of become best friends—more on Tuck’s initiative than Hudson’s—and it would be more fun for everyone if I weren’t at Tuck’s throat whenever we’re around each other.
A traitorous thought sprouts in my mind: is it possible that I’m being too hard on Tuck?
Is it possible that Summer’s right, that he actually is a nice guy? That his interest in me is genuine?
Is it possible that … that I’ve held this grudge against hockey players for too long? After all, Hudson is a hockey player and he’s a total sweetheart to Summer. I couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend for my best friend.
Maybe it’s time for me to …
But before I can finish that thought, my phone vibrates on the table. My eyes snag on the image displayed on the screen.
Those charitable thoughts evaporate from my mind, and it feels like there’s suddenly a ten-pound lead ball sitting in my stomach.
My iPhone chose this moment to share a “memory” with me—a picture that I thought I’d deleted, but somehow survived in the far reaches of my photos.
I’m in the picture. Smiling into the camera, my eyes bright and happy and enthusiastic. And I’ve got my arms wrapped around … my ex. Ryan.
Tension tightens in my chest as my gaze settles on his image. It’s the first time I’ve glanced at a picture of him in … I don’t know how long. Months. But not long enough.
The guy who was my whole world from junior year of high school until winter break during my freshman year of college.
The guy who was screwing around with other girls the entire time. The guy who had me so wrapped around his finger that I convinced myself not to notice, even though he barely even tried to hide it.
The guy who was entirely aware just how hard I’d fallen for him and used that fact to take advantage of me emotionally.
The guy who was rich, cocky, too hot for his own good, and treated life like a game where the only thing that mattered was his own satisfaction. The guy who expected the whole world to bow down to him just because he was a star player on our high school hockey team.
