[18+]
College student Hadley Bell is eager to return home for the holidays, but there's a problem. Her ex-no. 44 Nick Baker, Professional Snocross Racer and member of the Bell Race Team, still resides under her parent's roof.
Tensions run high, and...
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The bar was exactly as I remembered. Not dingy or divey. It was comfort. A good dose of rustic appeal wrapped with subtle hints of Christmas.
"This is your mom's?" Janelle asked, following me as I wended through bodies crammed near the bar.
It was. And she took great pride in it.
Iron chandeliers hung from high ceilings strung with low hanging boughs of mistletoe.
I curved a grin. Glimpsing couples kissing beneath, on hardwood floors as they mingled with customers.
Janelle's hand remained in mine as I snaked through the crowd toward a stone fireplace that stood tall in the center of the room, blazing a delicious heat over short tables patrons in low back leather sofas laughed around.
"We'll never find a spot," Janelle worried.
I smiled but said nothing as we came upon our table with a reserved sign placed atop.
"Perks of your mom owning the bar," Nate winked, collapsing onto the brown-leathered seat closest to the fire grate.
The atmosphere buzzed, reminding me of simpler times, and I might have taken a moment to enjoy it had Baker's sour presence not loomed behind me.
His annoyance crashed with mine.
Why he agreed to come, I hardly knew. When Janelle and I hurried downstairs, he declined my nosy friend's invitation to join us, claiming to have promised Johnny he'd work on the KTM.
Good, I thought, making for the door, that is until Nate snatched Baker's jacket off the coat rack and shoved him out the door.
Luke said nothing, but the slight curve of his mouth told me they were up to something.
I rolled my eyes, then whined inwardly when Johnny hopped into the driver's seat. Janelle sidled up next to him, followed by Nate, who beat a sulking Luke to the punch.
I could've murdered them, and the look on Baker's face told me he might too.
I grated my teeth as I climbed into the back of the truck and slid into the middle.
Baker's side brushed against mine, causing a sudden rush of heat.
If he noticed my discomfort, he didn't let on and refused to say a word the entire ride though his silence was quickly broken when my younger brother took off like a bat out of hell—hardly giving Janelle a minute to close the door before he left us in the street.
Several colourful curses left Baker's mouth.
Should've stayed in the truck, I thought, not waiting for him to follow us inside.
I did my best to ignore the man I hoped wouldn't drink too much. The last thing I wanted was for Janelle to see him drunk beyond reason.
Baker removed his black FXR jacket, waiting for me to choose a seat. There weren't many options. My asshole brothers had strategically seated themselves on the opposite side of the round table between Janelle, smiling proudly.
