JOSH
The listof things I’d rather do besides go on a weekend trip with my ex-best friend and the redheaded menace included, but was not limited to, feeding my hand through a woodchipper, eating a pound of raw maggots, and watching Glitter on repeat with my eyes taped open.
But—and this was a big but—it was Ava’s birthday, and the resort had a triple black diamond. I’d never skied a triple black diamond before.
The prospect of the challenge sent a rush through my blood. I would be an idiot to turn the opportunity down.
“Josh.”
My spine stiffened when Alex appeared, the glass of Coke and whiskey in his hand matching mine.
“Alex.”
I kept my eyes on the dance floor where Ava and her friends were partying like it was 1999. We’d long dispersed from our table, and the rest of the guests had stopped gawking at Bridget and transitioned to sneaking peeks in between songs. Her security had temporarily confiscated everyone’s phones, but I bet a few people had snapped pictures of her when she arrived and said pictures would be splashed all over the gossip sites by tomorrow morning.
“Surprised you’re not out there with everyone else.” Alex leaned against the wall, his eyes also on the party, though they were trained only on Ava. “You used to be the first person on the dance floor.”
“Yes, well.” I drained my drink in one long gulp. “A lot has changed since college.”
The unspoken meaning hung sharp and heavy between us, like a guillotine waiting to drop.
Once, Alex and I had been best friends.
Now, we were strangers with only one commonality tying us together.
If it weren’t for Ava, I would happily never see or speak to Alex again.
At least, that was what I told myself.
“Vermont wasn’t my idea,” Alex said, sidestepping the elephant in the room.
“I know. Ava isn’t as sneaky as she thinks she is.”
She’d been trying to get me and Alex to make up for over a year. She may have forgiven him for lying to us to get closer to my father, whom Alex thought had been the one behind his family’s murder, but the betrayal ran deeper for me.
Ava and Alex had only been dating for a few months when he discovered his uncle was the real culprit and he revealed the truth behind his revenge plan. But he and I had been friends for eight years.
I’d invited Alex into my home. Treated him like a brother. Shared secrets and advice and things I’d never told my own family. And all that time, he’d been lying to me. Using me.
The whiskey aftertaste turned bitter on my tongue.
“She misses you,” Alex said quietly.
“I’m right here.” I glanced at the bar. “We text all the time.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I don’t, actually.”
His mouth flattened into a tight line. “You’ve been acting different lately. Ava is worried—”
“Dude, stop.” I held up my hand. “If Ava is worried about me, she can tell me herself. But don’t act like we’re going to be best friends again. We’re not. Because you know what’s required in a friendship? Trust. And you lost mine a long time ago.”
I stepped around Alex before he could respond and went straight to the bar, my throat and chest tight. He didn’t follow me, and I didn’t expect him to. He didn’t chase after anyone except Ava. It was the only reason I hadn’t put up more of a fight when they got back together.
For all his faults and fuckups, Alex really did love my sister. I wanted her to be safe and happy, and if she was safe and happy with him, then I could suck it up and act civil.
That didn’t mean I had to have heartfelt conversations with him on the sidelines of the dance floor though.
“Hey, man.” I nodded at the bartender. “Tequila shot. Make it a double.”
I needed something stronger than whiskey to get through the rest of the party.
“You got it.”
I’d just tucked a couple of dollars in the tip jar when I was interrupted, yet again, by a wholly unwelcome interloper.
“Trouble in bromanceland?” The silky purr sent a ripple of irritation and something else I couldn’t name down my spine.
“Beat it, JR. I’m not in the mood.” I didn’t turn my head to look at Jules, but I could see the flash of distinctive red hair and the gold sparkles of her dress out of the corner of my eye.
“Your nicknaming skills leave a lot to be desired, Joshy.” Jules came up beside me and smiled at the bartender, who stopped making my drink to smile back at her. “I’ll have a Sex on the Beach, if that’s not too much to ask.” She tapped her nail on the menu, which listed only basic drinks like screwdrivers and cranberry vodkas and certainly no fucking Sex on the Beach.
The bartender’s eyes gleamed. “For a beautiful girl like you, nothing is too much to ask.”
The line was so cliche I barely held back a snort.
“Thank you.” Jules’s smile widened.
If another group of guests hadn’t come up to order, I was sure I would’ve witnessed more nauseating flirting. Thankfully, the bartender got distracted and quickly finished making our drinks before tending to the half dozen people vying for his attention.
“Slumming already?” I tsked in mock disappointment. “I expected better of you.”
“Why? Because he’s a bartender and not a doctor?” Jules arched an eyebrow. “Your snobbery is showing.”
“No. Because his lines are as pathetic as your attempt to slander me.” I tossed back my shot and didn’t bother with a chaser. “But hey, whatever floats your boat.”
“Don’t try to deflect from your own failed relationship.”