My mouth suddenly felt dry. Wanting a drink and realizing it wasn’t immediately available created a subtle pang of panic.
Sterling pulled away. “Careful, Ellie. You’re beginning to sound like me.”
The door chimed, and a family of four walked in, already arguing about where to sit. It was tourist season, and although Sterling and I could be considered tourists, we’d both had homes there for more than eight years. Long enough to be annoyed by the non-resident tourists. We were what the locals called part-time families, and most of the time, if we shared the name of our neighborhood, they didn’t even have to ask. Only one of our neighbors was a full-time family, and that was only because they were from Arkansas and moving to Estes Park was a dream not a vacation.
The two waitresses scurried between tables that were filling by the minute. Chelsea’s sneakers occasionally squeaked on the apricot and white tiled floor while she collected orders and rushed to the back through the swinging doors of the kitchen. She would reappear with a smile, stopping on her way back to fill large plastic glasses at the drink station behind the bar lined with stools for the snowboarders who frequented the café.
Body heat filled the room, and I noticed everyone peeling off layers. Chelsea was working up a sweat while tourists walked on the other side of the wall of windows bundled up in coats, scarves, knit hats, and gloves. The door would open, offering a blast of cool air, and Chelsea let everyone know when she would walk through a nice breeze with her sweet sigh.
Snow had just begun to fall in delicate pieces for the fourth day in a row. The resort was happy, and business was booming, but there was a storm coming, and I worried about Finley trying to make it in.
“How’s Fin?” Sterling asked, seemingly reading my mind.
“She’s in Rio. I think she’s coming here.”
“Oh?” Sterling wiped his nose with his knuckle and sniffed, a telltale sign that he was attempting to be nonchalant.
“You’re so far inside the friend zone, Sterling. Time to give up.”
He looked appalled. “I haven’t tried to get her back in a long time.”
“If a month ago is considered a long time.”
He frowned. “I’m too tired for Ellie the Bitch. Can you just try to be nice today?”
I jutted out my lip. “Aw, is Sterling on his period?”
He wasn’t amused. “I’m going to leave you here, alone at this table.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” I said.
“And leave plenty of room for fire boy to join you.”
“What?” I asked, turning to see Tyler Maddox walk in with Zeke and a few more of his hotshot crew. I scooted down in my chair. “Shit,” I hissed. I sunk down in my seat. In my family, uncomfortable situations required something a lot stronger than orange juice, and the urge to go home and raid the liquor cabinet became overwhelming.
A warm pair of lips touched my cheek, and Tyler pulled a seat to the table. “Hi, baby. Did you miss me?”
“Are you mental? Do you hear voices?” I said, incensed.
“Just came in for lunch before we head back,” Tyler said, directing his crew to sit.
Zeke sat on the other side of me, looking uncomfortable. “We can find another table.”
“No,” Tyler said. “We can’t. Who’s your friend?” he asked, motioning to Sterling.
“Fuck,” I murmured. I’d meant to run Tyler off. Instead, he’d gotten jealous and saw Sterling as competition he could easily conquer.
Sterling held out his hand, but I slapped it away.
“That was some kiss earlier,” Tyler said. “Makes me reminisce about the time she kissed me like that. Last night seems so long ago.”
My face twisted into disgust. “Really? You’re going there.”
“I did, yeah,” Tyler said, smug.
“Sterling doesn’t care that I took advantage of you in my parents’ bed last night.”
“That was your parents’ bed?” Tyler asked. “Had you already used yours once?”
“As a matter of fact,” I began.
Zeke squirmed. “Tyler, c’mon, man. Let’s just find another table.”
Tyler glowered at Sterling, determined. “I like this one.”
Sterling cleared his throat, unsure how to process the situation. “What do you like about it … exactly?”
Tyler didn’t take his eyes off mine. “Your friend.”
I leaned in. “If you don’t find another place to feed that hole in your face, I’m going to stand up right now and announce to everyone that you have a tiny penis.”
He wasn’t fazed. “I can whip it out and prove you wrong.”
“I’ll start screaming at you for giving me chlamydia. You work here. This is a tight-knit town. Stuff like that gets around.”
He shrugged. “You live here, too.”
“Part-time. And I don’t give two shits what the people here think of me.”
Chelsea brought Sterling’s plate and placed it in front of him, and then mine, along with our drinks.