Three Christmas Wishes - Krista Wolf Page 0,29

more money.

“Drake you asshole,” I snarled into my mug. “Why can’t you just fuck off and find your own place?”

A real man would’ve done the right thing. Unfortunately Drake wasn’t a real man. He hadn’t even seemed angry I might be seeing someone else, and his lack of anger pissed me off even more. He’d been mentally and emotionally checked out a long time ago, and for some reason I hadn’t even seen it.

It only showed how stupid I’d been.

By eight o’clock I was hopped up on my third cup of java and fidgeting with my keys. I’d planned on spending my Saturday working here, in my home studio. Finishing and then prepping the smaller pieces I’d selected for the show. Instead I had to pack my life into a U-haul truck and then try to find an all-new place for it. All without sleep, without food, without—

BZZZZZT!

My phone rumbled against the table as a text-message came through. I reached for it and a smile cracked my face for the first time in hours.

Hey midnight ninja! You there?

I stared at the message for a moment, realizing it was from three different numbers and not just one. The guys.

You should probably answer.

Otherwise we’ll have to go on the

assumption you’ve been abducted.

The guys knew how to make me laugh, that was for sure. At least I had one good thing going for me today. I thought for a moment, then hammered out a response:

Not abducted. Definitely plundered, though.

In all the best ways, of course.

I felt a new spark of life as the message went through. It felt good to flirt. Good to continue down the fun little path we were on, wherever the hell it seemed to be leading.

Yeah, well you left before breakfast.

We make some pretty mean eggs.

They taste the best after sex, by the way.

My stomach rumbled as I responded:

Sorry, I should’ve stayed. Not sure

what the hell I was thinking. I could

definitely use breakfast, too.

It was the truth, actually. I was regretting leaving. I could’ve spent the rest of the night in Valerio’s arms, and maybe the early morning doing something even more fun. Instead I’d come back here to find my dipshit ex-boyfriend drinking my beer and—

My phone rang this time, from one of the numbers I didn’t recognize. I picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Just so you know it’s not too late,” said Kade from the other end of the line. “If you’re still hungry, meet us down at the diner.”

I sat up straighter in my chair. My stomach croaked again hopefully.

“Really?”

“Yup.”

“Right now?”

Kade laughed gruffly, like he had in the bucket loader. “Sure,” he said. “Unless you’re looking to pencil us in for next week, or—”

“No, no,” I cut him off. “Now happens to be fantastic.”

“Good. You know the place on Hammond?”

“The Lake Rock?”

“That’s the one,” he answered. “Be there in twenty. We’ll save you a spot.”

Twenty-Three

BROCK

I knew immediately that something was wrong. It was in the way she carried herself, the way she walked. The heaviness in her shoulders, and the faint sigh that escaped her lips as she slid into the booth beside us.

“What is it?”

Sloane’s coffee-brown eyes shifted to me. It was only for a moment though, before she looked down at the table, dejectedly.

“Shit,” Kade swore. “We fucked up didn’t we?”

Her head snapped back up as her eyes went wide. “Oh no!” she countered. “Not at all! It’s nothing you guys did.” She took a long, deep breath. “Actually you’re the one good thing going on in my life right now.”

“Three good things,” Valerio smiled.

“Four if you count your upcoming show,” I chimed in, hoping to cheer her up.

“Five if you count Christmas,” said Kade.

The waiter showed up before she could answer. He took our orders, set us up with coffees, and disappeared in less than a minute.

“This place sure is efficient,” Sloane smiled weakly. “The last time I came here—”

“Out with it.”

She stopped mid sentence, then glanced to the others for help. Neither one of them offered her an out.

“Fine,” Sloane sighed. “I’m having trouble… at home.”

“At home?”

“With Drake,” she rolled her eyes.

I felt my heart sink, followed by a wave of guilt that made my shoulders slump. But Sloane saw that, too.

“I’m not back with him or anything!” she said quickly. “Is that what you thought?”

“Well…” I shrugged. “The way you said—”

“Fuck no!” Sloane exclaimed. “I came home last night and the asshole was already there!”

Valerio’s eyes narrowed. “I thought he moved out?”

“So did I,” she said glumly. “But after a week of crashing his