Catch Yourself a Snowmance (Have Yourself a Merry Little #2)

5. Alyssa

Chapter 5

Alyssa

Remember, George:

No man is a failure who has friends.

~Clarence Odbody, It’s A Wonderful Life

C arson and I unload the groceries in silence. It’s the kind of silence I share with some of my closest friends—which feels weird since before yesterday I imagined Carson to be the missing link, falling somewhere between the original cave dwellers and actual men who can hold both a meaningful job and a conversation.

I admit I judged Carson harshly. He’s not only cute, he’s funny … and attentive. But I still don’t fish in the same pond as my friends, so he’s effectively off limits. I’m glad we got through the whole misperception I had of him. I’m not so proud that I can’t admit when I’m wrong. And I was grossly wrong. Noelle will be thrilled when I admit I actually enjoyed Carson’s company .

“Mitch! Gage! There are more bags in the car. Earn your keep!” Carson shouts into the house as we set our bags onto the counter.

I shoot him an impressed look and he brushes his knuckles across his shirt in a mock brag.

Mitch comes into the kitchen, shirtless. It’s got to be in the 30s or colder outside. He’s only wearing tennis shoes and sweats.

“Whatcha need, man?” Mitch asks Carson.

“I need you to get some of the groceries.”

Gage walks past us. “I’m dressed. I’ll go.”

Mitch looks down at himself and back up at Gage. “I’m dressed.”

He honestly looks baffled. Then he follows Gage out to the car.

“He runs hot,” Carson explains to me.

“I guess so.” I chuckle.

Out the window, I watch Gage and Mitch grab bags and carry them in.

Carson asks, “How about some cocoa?”

I turn back toward Carson. He grabs down two mugs and moves to grab out a pan from the lower cabinets. He’s making me cocoa. Besides Noelle, I can’t remember the last time someone made me anything.

Noelle and Liam walk into the kitchen.

“Need some help putting groceries away?” Liam asks.

“Sure,” Carson answers, setting the pan aside.

Noelle walks over to the kitchen bar where I’m standing. “So, how was it going shopping?”

Her voice is slightly conspiratorial and hushed.

“Surprisingly fun,” I admit.

“Mm hmm. Okay, then. ”

“I’m big enough to acknowledge when my first impression wasn’t complete.”

She just smiles at me. “That’s what I hoped.”

“He’s nice,” I add, even though I don’t have to.

“Liam wouldn’t hang out with him if he weren’t.”

“I guess I should have figured that out. But, you know. Sometimes people can have a certain taste in friends. It doesn’t mean that the person is bad … just not … I don’t know. I was wrong. Let’s leave it at that.”

Noelle smiles and places her hand on my forearm. “I’m just glad you like him. It means the world to me.”

Gage and Mitch come in laughing loudly. Mitch doesn’t even look cold.

“He pegged me with a snowball!” Mitch says, his voice booming through the kitchen.

“I had to, man. You’re out there half-naked with a snowstorm blowing in. We’re not vacationing in Florida.”

“I know that now that I’ve got icicles forming on my back,” Mitch laughs through his words.

“Assembly line,” Liam says. “Let’s get this stuff unloaded.”

We all take our places, unloading bags and handing things over to Liam if they go in the pantry and Carson if they go in the fridge. We’ve got the kitchen stocked in no time.

Carson turns to me as our friends walk toward the living room. “Now, how about that cocoa?”

“Sounds good.”

The snow starts to fall around lunchtime. The whole group of us had taken a midmorning walk down one of the paths that leads off the back of the property. After lunch, we took to different parts of the house, some of us reading or napping, others sitting in the main room around the unlit fireplace, chatting. The world grows increasingly white outside the windows while we hunker down in the cabin .

There’s this sense of being cut off from everything but what’s right within these four walls. It’s what vacation’s meant to be—a full departure from the day-to-day. I’m in sweats and a fleece that says Still Freezing ~ Me 24/7. I’ve got fluffy socks on my feet and my hair is pulled up in a messy bun. If I were trying to impress someone, I’d definitely not choose this outfit.

Carson walks across the living room to the bay window where I’m sitting, staring out at the landscape, letting my mind drift like a falling snowflake blown around by a winter wind. The glass on the windows steams with my breath. Carson sits by my feet.

“It’s coming down hard.” His eyes roam across the property.

I nod.

“You look cozy.”

“I major in cozy,” I say. “It’s a skill of mine.”

Carson smiles and his face dips, showing two dimples around his mouth. They’re covered in stubble making them anything but boyish. Still, there’s a playfulness about him that softens out the rugged edges. He turns his head and watches the snow falling and I study his profile a little longer than I probably should. And then I force myself to return my focus to the scene outside.

We sit like that, my toes barely grazing his thigh, our heads turned in unison toward the winter wonderland outside our cabin. No words. No need for them. This strange new familiarity between us.

The snow doesn’t stop. It falls in soft, fluffy flakes like someone’s emptying a pillow over the cabin. By late afternoon, we can’t even see the driveway anymore.

“Let’s play charades before dinner!” Noelle suggests. “I put all our names in a bowl. We can draw for partners.”

“There are nine of us,” Stephanie reminds Noelle .

“Okay. Yeah. Let’s do three teams of three.”

Carson and I exchange friendly smiles and he stands, extending me his hand. “If we’re on a team, we’re winning.” His tone is so matter of fact. Then he leans in toward me and whispers, “And if you’re my opponent, all bets are off. You’re going down.”

The laugh that bursts out of me is loud and full. I clap my hand over my mouth.

He stands a few feet away from me, the picture of innocence.

I can still smell his musky, warm scent. Manly. Spicy. It’s been a long time since I’ve been that close to a man.

I take a breath and turn toward Noelle.

The game. I’ll focus on the game.

Noelle passes the bowl to me first. I pull out Tori’s name.

“Tori! You’re with me!” I shout, holding my arms out to her.

She runs into them and nearly knocks me off balance, sending a wave of laughter through the room. The bowl goes around. When Carson’s turn comes, he pulls my name.

He saunters over to me and Tori. “No welcoming hug?” he asks in far too flirty a tone meant for my ears only.

Tori hears him, though and she looks between the two of us with a big smile on her face.

I subtly shake my head no in her direction. We’re just friendly. Carson’s gorgeous and fun. But we’re not going to be more than friends who share a love for Noelle and Liam.

Carson leans around me and addresses Tori. “We’re winning this.”

“Okay,” she agrees in her usual amiable tone.

I shake my head in amusement. He’s so competitive. Why is that attractive right now? Is this even the same man who had Dorito dust down his shirt when I first met him? He seems miles ahead of that guy. I’m questioning my capacity to judge character at this point—something I’ve always prided myself in being excellent at discerning.

The teams are established: Carson, Tori and me, then Stephanie, Noelle and Mitch, and finally Gage, Liam and Jennifer.

Noelle produces a board game I didn’t even know we brought. It comes with a timer and cards in different categories. We go around, each of us acting out the word on the card while our teammates try to beat the timer guessing what we’re acting out.

“A goose!” Carson shouts at me.

I shake my head no. A goose? Seriously? What am I doing that says goose ?

I decide to go all in. I’m gyrating my hips, holding an invisible microphone and leaning backward.

“Seizure!” Tori shouts.

I crack up.

“Come on. Thirty seconds.” Carson says.

I start strumming an air guitar, moving my arm in an exaggerated circle before I land on the imaginary strings to strum.

“Guitar!” Tori shouts at the same time as Carson shouts, “Musician!”

I point at him and nod furiously.

“Musician … Musician … Musician …” he muses.

I go back to gyrating and holding the mic. I’ve got nothing else.

Then I run my hand through my imaginary slick hair, and Carson shouts, “Elvis!”

I jump up and down and point at him, forgetting I can talk now that he guessed.

“Oh yeah, baby! That’s Elvis!” Carson jumps up, grabs me and spins me around while he announces to our friends. “We’re so good at this! ”

He sets me down and gives me a high five.

I’m dizzy from either the gyrating or from the way it felt to be held by Carson.

“Oh, yeah.” Liam says. “You’re awesome. Goose. Seizure. That’s what I call amazing.”

“We got the answer.” Carson trash talks back to Liam. “Let’s see you beat us now.”

He playfully bumps my hip with his. I tuck a strand of loose hair behind my ear and take a seat next to Tori on the floor.

We play the game for over an hour, laughing and smack talking back and forth. In the end, we win by two words. Carson is ridiculous and extremely over the top in his gloating.

“I want a trophy,” he announces.

“How about the winning team cooks dinner?” Gage asks.

“Deal,” Tori says.

Carson and I look over her simultaneously.

“What? We might as well?” Tori says.

“I’m down with cooking,” Carson says easily.

“Why not?” I agree.

The three of us head into the kitchen. We make a simple meal of spaghetti and garlic bread. Tori tosses a salad.

“We make a good team,” Carson says while I’m draining the pasta at the sink.

He walks up behind me and nearly cages me in with his presence.

“I need to rinse my hands.” His voice is low and soft.

I shake out the noodles in the colander and step to the side. “All yours.”

I walk back over to the stove to stir in the sauce. Tori steps up beside me.

Her voice is barely a whisper. “Anything going on there?”

I don’t exactly know what to say. Nothing is going on. Of course nothing is going on. But I’m feeling things I haven’t felt in a long, long time. Those flutters in my belly. My eyes seem to seek him out, watching him move through the house, looking for him among our friends, waiting to see what he’ll do or say next.

It’s a little vacation infatuation. It’s harmless. And, like the snow outside, all of those sensations will melt away when I leave this mountain.