I shrug, catching her eye—a look passes between us, saying everything we’re thinking but not saying.
I exhale. “Who fucking knows?”
The door swings open, and Matt’s voice booms through the cabin. “Hey, guys.”
He steps in, stomping the snow off his boots as he pulls off his coat. He kicks off his shoes, barely pausing before heading straight for the kitchen.
We all greet him, but he’s already reaching for the whiskey, practically pouring before he even grabs a glass.
Yeah. Something’s up.
I make my way over as everyone else falls back into conversation. Sensing something off, I tread carefully. “Hey, man. How was the drive?”
“Good,” he says, voice neutral. “Peaceful.”
Too neutral.
I study him, but he keeps his gaze locked on his drink, swirling the amber liquid. “Yeah? What happened to Jordan?”
He exhales sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “Bailed last minute. Something about a new guy she’s seeing.”
I raise a brow. “Really? Damn.”
He lets out a bitter chuckle. “Told her she could have her own room. We’re just friends. But I don’t know, man… some guys just aren’t secure enough to let their girl have guy friends.”
“Yeah. Hard to say where the line is with that.” I don’t really know what to say. We all know if Jordan came, they’d sleep together. It’s just what they do. And honestly? If she’s finally putting her foot down because she’s seeing someone, good for her.
But I still feel for Matt. It’s not just about sex. He loves hanging out with her, too.
Matt mutters something under his breath in disagreement.
“Sorry, man. Hopefully, you guys can work things out when you get back,” I say, taking a sip of my drink.
He scoffs. “Yeah, I’m not holding my breath. She’ll push me out of her life—like she always does when she’s seeing someone.”
I get it. But I can’t blame her, either. “Well, you’ll deal with it like you always do. But for now, just try to forget about it and enjoy the weekend.”
Matt nods, letting out a slow breath. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll deal with it later. So, what’s the plan?”
“For tonight? Drinking, games… just shooting the shit.”
He takes a sip of his Old Fashioned. “Sounds exactly like the kind of night I need.”
I clap Matt on the back, then head for the living room. Sinking onto the couch, I wrap an arm around Alley, pulling her close. She leans into me without hesitation, like she belongs there.
The fire crackles, drinks are flowing, Megan’s laugh carries through the wide open space—it’s the same weekend tradition I’ve known for years. But it hits different this time.
I give Alley’s shoulder a squeeze, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. Yeah. This is gonna be one to remember.
“Snowplow, babe! Plow! Plow!”
Too late.
Alley flies straight for me, arms crossed over her face like she’s bracing for impact. I plant my skis, ready to take the hit—but at the last second, she flings herself backward, landing hard on her ass.
A puff of powder explodes around her as she skids to a stop just inches from my feet.
She blinks up at me, dazed. Then bursts out laughing. “Oh my God. That could’ve been so bad.”
