The Tight End (Red's Tavern 6) - Page 57

“You sure you’re not too cold?” I asked.

“I’ve got the poncho,” he said. “I’m warmer than a damn car engine in July. And you know I’m still heated from that last game of beer pong. God, you were keeping that secret buried somewhere deep down inside.”

“What secret?”

“That you’re a fucking legend at beer pong.”

“It’s the only sport I’m good at. A completely useless one,” I joked.

“Well, you carried us to victory, and that’s not useless at all.”

I felt a tiny fleck of something cold on my cheek.

“Whoa,” I said, holding out one hand in the air as we rounded the corner of the street. At first I thought it must have been a fluke, but as I kept my hand held out, I saw snowflake after snowflake gently fall onto my palm, melting and disappearing just a moment later.

“First snow of the season,” Brody said, a big smile on his face, too.

We stopped in our tracks on the sidewalk, the night silent around us as the first snowflakes fell.

“It’s really here,” I said, letting my eyes flutter closed for a moment as I felt tiny flakes melting on my cheeks. “The start of winter has always been my favorite part of the year.”

“I’ve always loved it, too,” Brody said. “And I think this year might be the best of all.”

I opened my eyes again, looking at him. I could see one of his dimples, and a little collection of glistening snowflakes hung in between the locks of his rich, brown hair. I was still drunk, to be sure. But seeing Brody there in the dim light, his face only illuminated by a lamp post a few feet away, I felt like I was under some sort of magical spell. I was spending my Saturday night with a fucking gorgeous man who I’d just gone to a party with.

How many nights just like this had I spent alone? On my own, tucked behind a book in the library or in my bed, watching the snow fall through a big window?

I’d always loved those moments, even when I was lonely—watching the snowflakes drape over the world outside while I was cozy and warm inside. But spending a night like this with somebody was an entirely different experience. I got to see the joy in Brody’s eyes, too. I got to see that someone I’d thought was so different from me was enjoying this moment just as much as I was.

And in this moment, I knew that both of us weren’t thinking about all of the weight of our futures. The things that had been weighing on us so heavily dissipated into the air like the snowflakes themselves, and all we were left with was a sense of wonder.

Brody was happy. Purely happy, here with me. I could trust him, in a way that I hadn’t trusted any new person in so long.

It felt like magic.

“Oh no, I’m losing you, aren’t I?” Brody said, watching me, his brown eyes as beautiful as ever. “Your eyes are glazing over. Come on, we’ve only got a few more blocks to get home.”

If only he knew why I was in my little trance.

I pulled in a deep breath, snapping out of it. “I’m good.”

Better than good.

The truth was something closer to I’m falling for you, you big, beautiful jock, and I don’t think I could stop myself now even if I tried.

Terrifying.

But also, undeniably, the best thing I’d ever felt.

I started walking again, forging ahead into the light flurries of snow. Brody caught up beside me, holding his hands out and intermittently doing little twirls in the falling snow. My mind was racing, a jumble of thoughts and desires so intense that I thought I might burst.

“Did you know that on Christmas Day in 1775, soldiers in the Revolutionary War had to fight through tons of snow? Feet and feet of it,” I said as we walked. Historical facts felt safe. In the midst of about fifty million new feelings floating through my body, I knew I could at least talk about one thing with confidence at all times, and that was history.

“That must have sucked,” Brody said. “I can’t imagine playing football in a foot of snow, let alone more than that.”

“Or maybe they loved it,” I said. “Maybe on that same night, just a few miles away, two young dudes were just walking down the street together like drunken idiots.”

Brody laughed. “One of them was a drunken idiot, at least. The other one was still very responsible, helping the other guy remember his wallets and keys. Guess they didn’t have phones back then. Hell, I don’t even know if they had wallets back then.”

“Responsible?” I said, snorting. “I’m barely able to keep my head straight right now. But thank you.”

“You always seem to be responsible,” Brody said. “It’s one of your many superpowers.”

Tags: Raleigh Ruebins Red's Tavern Romance
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