Syd shot her friend a look, and I hid a grin. Andrea shrugged and turned back to Tanner. “The infected are not the same as the zombies in The Walking Dead.”
Tanner shook his head. “Is there really a difference?”
I shook my head as she went into a deep description of the differences. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Syd grin as she speared a piece of steak with her fork. She glanced at me. “The infected are different,” she whispered.
A smile pulled at my lips and tugged at my heart. “I believe you.”
She met my stare for a moment, and then attacked another piece of steak, dipping it into her mashed potatoes.
“Are you going to your grandparents for Christmas?” It was a stupid question to ask. She always did, but I wanted to say something.
Syd nodded. “My parents want to leave Christmas Eve and stay the night with them. How about you?”
“Grandpa is coming down this year, doing the Christmas morning thing with us.”
“Wow. He’s driving down from Morgan County by himself?”
“Yep.” Pride filled my voice. “The man is as old as dirt, but he’s still running around like he’s twenty.”
“Your grandpa is so funny. Remember when he tried to build a redneck playground in your mom’s backyard with the crane?”
I laughed. “Yeah, Mom wasn’t too happy about that.”
“Neither were the neighbors.” Out of habit—and I knew that was what led to this—she pried off half the shrimp off the skewers and placed them on my plate. She didn’t even seem to realize she’d done it until she was done, but then her brows knitted and she fell silent.
I already missed the ease of conversation and felt the chill like a harsh arctic wind. “I told Mom about going to vet school.”
“What?” She dropped her knife as she twisted toward me. “You did?”
Thrilled with the fact I had her full attention, I ignored Andrea and Tanner, who’d stopped arguing for five seconds. “Yeah.”
“Well?” Excitement turned her eyes into shining sapphires. “What did she say?”
The dreaded conversation had happened about fifteen minutes after I’d walked through the door when I’d gotten back from Snowshoe. And approximately fifteen minutes after that, I’d started drinking. “Ah, she wasn’t too thrilled about it. There were tears, but I think in the end, she knows it’s what I want.”
“She cried?” Syd winced. “Oh, no.”
I nodded. “She seems better with it now, but I think it’s going to take a little bit for her to get used to it.” Leaning back, I spread my legs until my thigh pressed into hers. Totally on purpose, and she didn’t shy away. I took that as a good sign. “I’m glad I finally got it out in the open. It’s really because of you.”
“Me?” she squeaked.
Tanner tilted his head to the side, brows raised.
I was going to punch him in the face later. “Well, you know, after we talked about it, I knew I had to say something to her soon. You…you gave me the courage to do it.”
Tanner choked.
I was seriously going to spin-kick him in the balls, but Syd smiled—smiled so widely and beautifully that Tanner’s balls might be safe. “That’s great,” she said. “I’m happy for you. Really. I know that’s what you want, and you’ll be great at it.”
Pressure clamped down on my chest, and there was so much I needed to say. Now wasn’t the right time, but I had to say something, because I was two seconds from climbing all over her. “What are you doing afterwards?”
“Nothing,” Andrea answered for her. “She’s doing absolutely nothing.”
Syd slowly turned to Andrea, and I wanted to hug the damn girl. “So you have nothing to do,” I cut in before Syd could say anything. She turned back to me, and I felt like everything came down to this minute. If she said no, then I knew it was done. My muscles seized like I was about to hit a high slope. “Can we—?”
“Kyler Quinn,” a smooth, throaty voice interrupted. “Hot damn, it’s going to be my lucky night.”