“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.”