Harlan
Now
"Well, look what the cat dragged in," my brother, Briggs, says as soon as I step through the front doors of the lodge, stomping snow from my boots. He strides across the massive great room toward me, a grin plastered across his face.
"Said I'd be here today, didn't I?" I grunt, dropping my bag beside a giant stone fireplace.
"Yeah, but we're talking about you, motherfucker." He tips his bottle in my direction. "We both know you'd rather have a lobotomy than be here right now."
He isn't wrong. Spending another weekend in Aspen, pretending I give a shit about skiing, sounds about as fun as...well, a lobotomy. But Hattie, our baby sister, is getting married in a week, and I guess our family is making a tradition of going skiing instead of having bachelor and bachelorette parties. Don't ask me why. Hattie can't ski to save her life.
I'm a card-carrying member of the asshole club… but I will never be a big enough asshole to disappoint Hattie.
Besides, who the fuck else is going to threaten to rip Sidney's balls out through his throat if he makes her cry, if not me? No one, that's who.
And since Sophie Hawkes is going to be here this weekend, well, hell itself couldn't keep me away.
"Where is everyone?" I ask, glancing around the great room. Of course, Sidney rented out the entire resort for the weekend just to make my sister happy. There are at least three chandeliers overhead, with five fireplaces strategically placed around the massive room. An entire arena could fit in the damn place. But aside from a couple of Sidney's teammates playing air hockey in the corner, the common area is mostly empty.
"Getting ready for dinner." Briggs glances at the ornate clock hanging over the doors. "We're meeting up in thirty at the restaurant downstairs."
Fuck. Maybe I can—
"And Hattie said you aren't allowed to skip it."
Goddammit. Guess I need to find my room and change, then.
"Here." Briggs pulls a key card from his pocket, holding it out to me. "I already checked you in. Figured you'd be late if you made it today at all."
"Your faith in me is so inspiring," I mutter, pocketing the card. I've never missed anything that mattered to Hattie. Ever.
Briggs just grins in response. "I know you, Harlan. Socializing is your worst nightmare." He chuckles. "How the fuck you ended up as captain of the Knights when you literally hate people is beyond me."
"I don't hate people." I'm apathetic toward most people. I have a strong aversion to groups of them. There's a difference.
"Yeah?" He quirks a brow. "Name three people you don't hate."
"Hattie, Vanessa, and Tye."
"Damn." He chuckles again. "I didn't even make the list?"
I just shrug, smirking at him as I scoop my bag from the floor. "You said three. I picked my favorites. Not my fault that you didn't make the cut."
He scratches the side of his face with his middle finger, but he's not offended. Nothing much offends Briggs. Nothing except our mother, anyway. It's not like I blame him for that. She offends the hell out of me, too.
If it weren't for Hattie, we would have cut her out a long time ago. Fortunately, we've corrected that oversight. That woman is officially where she belongs now—out of our lives. So long as she continues to leave Hattie alone, we intend to keep it that way.
"She isn't going to try to show up, is she?" I ask, not entirely convinced she'll behave. The woman can't resist being the center of attention. I wouldn't put it past her to try to show up and make a scene, just to ruin Hattie's weekend.
Briggs knows who I'm talking about. "Nope," he says, completely confident. "Tye already warned the staff not to let her through the doors if she does show her face. And I made a point to stop by her place before I caught a flight."
"How'd that go?"
"I don't think she's willing to risk the public humiliation that I promised would follow if she shows her ass or comes anywhere near Hattie or anything wedding-related."
"Good," I grunt. I'll be damned if our mother ruins Hattie's wedding for her like she's ruined every other goddamn thing in her life. "I'm going to…" I trail off, my eyes locking on a brunette descending the stairs on the opposite side of the room.
Christ Almighty. Sophie.