My Life as a Holiday Album (My Life as an Album #5) - L.J. Evans Page 0,88
put a hand up and scanned the parking lot. It must have snowed a good foot or more. It wasn’t going to be impossible to navigate a car in, but to a born-and-raised Southern Californian, it was more snow than I knew how to deal with.
Grace had called and said they were on their way. The room we were supposed to be sharing at the hotel had turned into a bachelor pad. It was probably for the best. I’d come back to the hotel last night after pizza and more beers, feeling more than a buzz. I’d been trying to wash down the sights, smells, and sounds of a short, curvy brunette. It hadn’t worked, and I’d been glad Grace wasn’t in the room while I’d had to manage the situation with a hand and a cold shower.
Instead of Grace’s black rental, the same pickup truck Stephen and Khiley had gotten into outside the grandma’s house the day before pulled into the parking lot. Mayson stepped from the back passenger door. The trucks in Tennessee came in one size: massive. I pulled on my UCLA sweatshirt, grabbed a jacket from the closet, and headed down with my coffee in hand.
My phone buzzed just as Mayson walked into the lobby.
“I saw you drive up. Is Grace driving that huge truck, or did she actually let someone else behind the wheel?” I asked.
Mayson grinned. “I convinced her that now was not the time to learn how to drive in the snow. She happened to agree with me. Without a fight.”
“What have you done with my cousin?” I said, shaking my head.
“I don’t want to tell you. You might end up tossing me into a snow pile.” He smirked and headed back out the door.
“Don’t gross me out, dude. And definitely don’t piss me off. You hurt her again, and you’ll find I really did learn a lot about poisons while researching for our script.”
The air was fucking freezing. I hunched in on myself, pulling up the hood of my sweatshirt and the hood of the coat before shoving my free hand deep into my coat pocket. I didn’t have gloves. I didn’t have snow boots. I wasn’t prepared for the eighteen-degree weather.
When I got in the back, I found Grace buried in layers of coats, gloves, and scarves that didn’t belong to her.
“Hi, again.” Khiley waved from the front.
“Morning,” I said.
“It’s awful nice of you to come and help out. You and Gracie-Lou are at the top of our good karma list,” Khiley said.
Karma shmarma. I was doing this for incredibly selfish reasons, all having to do with a brunette witch who was calling to me.
We headed down the block. It wasn’t far. I could have walked it, but my Chucks were already drenched icicles just from the fifteen feet it had taken to go from the hotel to the back seat. I couldn’t imagine what they would have felt like if I’d walked the entire distance.
When we got to the bar, Stephen pulled into the parking lot out back with his tailgate almost bumping the metal stairs. The only other car in the lot was a bright-red Mazda Miata Grace was already drooling over before we’d even stepped out of the truck.
“Oh my God. Whose is it? I want to drive it. It can go from zero to sixty in, like, six seconds,” she said, forgetting the snow and slipping and sliding over to touch it.
“It’s mine,” Ginny’s voice sounded from the stairs, and I turned to stare at her as she walked down.
“No!” I said, shock and lust hitting me in the pit of my stomach. She was bundled in boots, a jacket, a scarf, and a beanie just like the other women, but her eyes were sparkling with mischief as they landed on mine.
She nodded with a wide smile, knowing she’d surprised me. Knowing the Miata was nothing like the sedate sedan I’d expected her to own.
Grace asked, “Can I drive it?”
“Sure,” Ginny said, right as Mayson and I both said, “No!”
Grace glared at the two of us.
“Do not let her drive that car in the snow,” I said.
Ginny laughed, and Grace punched me on the shoulder with all her might. Which was goddamn strong because she worked out as much as I did at Dad’s gym.
She turned to Ginny. “I don’t want to drive it now in the snow, but if it dries out, I’d love to see how it handles.”