Thank you for your continued support. I appreciate it.

Also, thank you for the greetings...I don't know if you guys understood, but my sister is no longer alive. She's been gone a few years now.

Standard disclaimer.

Only three more chapters left.

SAM

I killed the engine on my SUV and sat back, clenching the keys in my hand, until the jagged edges cut into my palm.

Why did I agree to do this again?

"This is probably the worst idea you've had in a long time. Seriously," I said.

Noah snorted.

"I can come up with an entire list of worse ideas, but hey, you're sober for the first time in two days. And just in time for the holidays."

Leaning my head back against the headrest, I groaned.

"It still feels like someone is slamming an ice pick into my temples."

"You were pretty drunk," Noah commented, reaching for the door. "Which is why, I think, this dinner is the best idea ever."

I rubbed my palm along my chin, frowning at the growth of stubble there. I hadn't shaved since the first night at Snowshoe.

"Yeah, you'd think that, since Mercy doesn't hate your guts," I grumbled.

Noah rolled his eyes.

"She doesn't hate your guts. I don't think that would ever be possible."

"Oh, it's possible. Trust me."

"Look, I don't know what really went down between you two, but something did. It's not the end of the world." Noah opened the passenger door and a wealth of frigid air streamed into the SUV. "So stop being a pussy and get out of the car."

I shot him a dirty look, but I climbed out nonetheless.

As I joined him on the other side, I asked the question, I've already asked a dozen times.

"She's knows I'm going to be here, right?"

"Yep." Noah opened the door and motioned me in. Once we got passed the hostess, he glanced at me. "Okay. I lied. I don't think Mercedes knows."

"What?" I stopped in the middle of the aisle, nearly causing a waiter to slam into me. I shot a glare at Noah. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

He clamped his hand on my shoulder, steering me away from the packed round table in my path.

"Nope. Chill out, man. I'm sure she knows by now."

Easy for him to say 'chill out' but I felt like I was walking in front of a firing squad.

So many times since Mercy left Snowshoe, I'd fought the urge to call her. I wanted nothing more than to hear her voice and to see her. And yeah, my fucking stupid-ass heart, was bouncing all over the place. But she had made herself pretty damn clear.

"You're a bastard," I grumbled, running a hand through my hair.

Man, I wished I'd shaved. While I had showered, I was sure I still smelled like whiskey. That shit would be bleeding out of my pores for days to come.

I saw Quinn before I saw Mercy. Then, my heart started pounding, like I'd run up and down the quad. And I was sweating like a whore in church on Sunday.

Noah got in front of me somehow, proving that I was dragging my feet like a mofo.

The bastard took the seat next to Quinn, who had the biggest, fakest smile known to man on her face.

Of course, I wanted to sit next to Mercedes. I also wanted to touch her, hold her close, and kiss her. And there were other things that I wanted to do to her, things that kept me up late at night in a drunken stupor, with my hand between my legs.

But I was also sure, she might punch me in the balls.

Needing to pull it together, I told myself, that the best thing to do, was to act normal.

With that in mind, I stepped beside the table and looked at Mercy.

A heartbeat passed and she looked up, large brown eyes fixed right on me, and it was like seeing Jesus. Okay. Maybe not seeing Jesus, but it was definitely like being socked in the chest and hearing angels harking.

God! She is just so beautiful.

It wasn't that I had forgotten, but after things ending so fucked-up between us, it felt like years, instead of days, since I'd last seen her.

Those eyes...they were astonishingly brown and clear...so stunning. But there were dark smudges under them, a shade darker than her skin.

And I wanted to smooth them away, but I managed to keep my hands to myself.

Then, my gaze dropped to her lips, and they parted on a sharp inhale.

A dark flush stained her cheeks just then, and I wanted to chase it with my fingers, my mouth, my tongue...

'Oops!'

Everyone was staring at me.

Clearing my throat, I forced myself to sit down and placed my hands on the table. Then, I shot a glance to Mercy.

"Hey."

She bit her lower lip and I had to suppress a moan.

"Hey," she replied.

Across from me, Noah raised a brow. And Quinn started playing with a piece of bread, like she was two years old.

No one else spoke, and Mercy was so stiff, I thought she'd break in half.

Wow, this was awkward as hell. I needed to leave.

"So, is everyone excited about Christmas?" Quinn chirped.

Noah looked at her and said in a deadpan voice,

"I am so excited."

Her eyes narrowed shrewdly.

"You don't sound excited."

"Well, I'm not twelve." He cocked his head to the side. "Christmas ain't that interesting once you grow up."

"What?" she gasped, eyes wide. "Christmas ain't that interesting once you grow up?"

He shrugged.

"You're un-American," she accused.

Mercy's lips pursed.

Noah looked unaffected.

"Man, I just like the time off from school, and the food. That's it."

"But it means more than that." Quinn shook her head, her hair flying everywhere. "What about the presents?"

"Yeah, I don't think that's what Christmas is about," he commented.

She huffed.

"That is what Christmas is about. Anyone who says differently, is trying to make themselves look all spiritual and shit. I keep it real."

My gaze slid over to Mercy. She looked at me, brows raised, and our eyes locked.

For a moment...a sweet fucking moment...it was just like it used to be...us sitting back, listening to Noah and Quinn, annoy the living shit out of each other.

But then, Mercy cast her eyes at her glass and started fiddling with her straw, and that was a cold reminder, that things weren't normal.

She was never this quiet, and things were never strained between us.

I couldn't say, I regretted the time with her though, because I didn't. But I hated how it ended.

Looking back, there were a lot of females, I'd wished I'd kept my dick in my pants with, but Mercy would never be one of them.

The waiter showed up and got our drink and food order. Small talk was made, mostly on Noah and Quinn's end. They kept it going, so there wasn't an awkward lull in conversation, but sitting here, not talking to Mercy, was wrong, on so many levels.

Leaning back, I looked over at her. She tipped her chin up at the same moment and our gazes collided for another second.

And I sort of felt like an inept schoolboy. It was that bad.

"So, your lip looks a lot better," I said.

She blinked.

I was such a dumbass.

"It healed up pretty quickly," she said, training her gaze on her glass. "Just a little mark."

That was good to hear.

"Your jaw?"

"It doesn't hurt at all."

It seriously was a relief to hear that. Even drunk off my rocker, I'd been going out of my mind with worry for her.

"Your knuckles still look a little raw," Mercedes said, causing me to look up.

Our eyes locked and held this time.

"What?"

"Your knuckles," she said in a quiet voice, as she reached over to the hand I had on the table.

I held my breath, as she ran her fingertips over my knuckles. It was a feather-light touch, but it traveled straight through me and I jerked.

She pulled her hand back, casting her gaze to the table.

"Do they hurt?"

"No." My voice sounded thick. "They don't hurt at all, baby."

Her lashes swept up, and her eyes darted across my face, like she was looking for something, but then she looked across the table and the moment was gone.

Quinn cleared her throat.

"Did you guys hear that they're calling for another snowstorm next week, on New Year's Eve?"

And so, that's how the conversation went for a while. Quinn or Noah would smooth over the tense silence, with some random statement, while Mercy and I, barely said more than an entire sentence to one another.

Then the food came.

Mercedes had ordered a steak, but she just seemed to cut it up into tiny pieces and push it around her plate with her fork.

"You're not hungry?" I asked.

She glanced up, tucking back her hair with her free hand.

"I guess, I ate too much bread."

My gaze went to the half loaf that remained and I arched a brow.

"Doesn't look like you ate that much."

Her fingers tightened around the handle of her knife, and I wondered if she was fantasizing about stabbing me with it.

"How do you know that's not our second or third loaf?"

"It's our first," Quinn announced, stopping a deep conversation with Noah, about the differences between the zombies from The Walking Dead and 28 Days Later.

Mercy shot her friend a look, and I hid a grin. Then, Quinn shrugged and turned back to Noah.

"The infected, are not the same as the zombies in The Walking Dead."

Noah 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 Mercy grin, as she speared a piece of steak with her fork. Then, 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.

She 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, my mom wasn't too happy about that."

"Neither were the neighbors."

My shrimp kebabs remained, just as they came on my plate. I didn't want to stop talking with her.

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.

And just like that, I missed the ease of conversation and felt the chill like a harsh arctic wind.

"I told my mom about going to vet school," I said.

"What?" Mercy dropped her knife, and twisted towards me. "You did?"

Thrilled with the fact I had her full attention, I ignored Quinn and Noah, who'd finally stopped arguing.

"Yeah."

"Well?" Excitement turned her eyes into shining opals. "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.

"Well, 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?" Mercy winced. "Oh, no."

I nodded.

"She seems better with it now, but I think it's going to take a little time, 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. So I took that as a good sign.

"I'm glad I finally got it out in the open. I have you to thank for that."

"Me?" she squeaked.

Noah 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. And you gave me the courage to do it."

Noah choked.

I was seriously going to spin-kick him in the balls. But Mercy smiled so widely and beautifully, that Noah'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. 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," Quinn answered for her. "She's doing absolutely nothing."

I wanted to hug the damn girl.

Mercy slowly turned to Quinn, and seemed ready to say something. But I cut in before she could say anything.

"So, you have nothing to do."

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...?"

"Sam Evans?" a smooth, throaty voice interrupted. "Hot damn, it's going to be my lucky night."

MERCEDES

The dinner had started off, in the seven different circles of hell, but over the course of the meal, I'd relaxed. Not completely, because, sitting next to Sam, was a true test of self-control.

I was torn between wanting to crawl into his arms and wanting to kick him out of the booth.

But with him looking at me, like I was the only thing he needed in his life? I was starting to side with the crawling-into-his-lap part, when a voice made to get guys drop their pants, slithered over my skin like snakes.

Forcing my gaze away from Sam's dark green eyes, I saw a girl I barely recognized. It took me a few minutes, to remember her name was Cindy.

We'd gone to high school together. And I had no idea what she'd been up to over the years, but I remembered, who'd been up her, several times in high school.

My gaze traveled over her red, skintight sweater, showcasing boobs, dreams were made of.

She looked at me, and I knew she dismissed my presence outright. Like there was no way, the fact that Sam was sitting next to me at a table, meant anything.

Any other time, this probably wouldn't have bothered me. If anything, I was used to random chicks approaching Sam, everywhere we went.

The boy was well-traveled, but right now, after everything? Yeah, it did not make me feel warm or fuzzy.

Quinn muttered something under her breath, as Sam turned slowly.

"Hey," he said evenly. "How've you been, Cindy."

She popped a hand on her hip, as her red-painted lips spread into a smile.

"I've been good. Haven't seen you around lately. Guess you're home for Christmas?"

"No shit!" Quinn muttered under her breath, while Noah pressed his lips together, as he suddenly became invested in the food on his plate.

"Yeah, I'm home for a little while." Sam dropped his arm along the back of the seat behind me. "Then, we're heading back to school."

If 'we're' was a hidden code for something, no one got it, especially not Cindy. She tossed pretty blonde waves over her shoulder, and then crossed her arms.

And even my eyes went straight to her cleavage.

"I'm on break, too, from Shepherd, until the fifteenth of January. We should get together."

It was like I wasn't even sitting there.

"I don't know about that," Sam replied diplomatically. "I'm going to be real busy, but it was good seeing you, okay?"

Cindy blinked, and her lips formed a perfect O. I was doing the same thing. I couldn't even think of a time, that Sam had shot down a pretty girl.

Granted, it could be because, I was sitting right there, and given our newly acquired history, he was being a little more discreet than normal.

My gaze caught Quinn's and she had the biggest, cat-ate-every-canary-in-the-cage grin, and I couldn't help the smirk that graced my lips.

"Well, call me. I'll make time for you, if you make time for me." Cindy smiled, but it lacked the confidence of earlier. "See you around."

Sam just nodded.

After Cindy bounced off somewhere, silence descended on the table and the smirk slipped away from my lips.

Unease turned the food in my stomach and I wished I hadn't eaten what I had.

Noah was still studying his food, like he was going to be tested on it. And Quinn was remarkably quiet, which meant, the apocalypse had started.

As for Sam, he was staring off in the distance, a muscle working in his jaw. I don't know exactly what made it all sink in then, but I suddenly realized, like really understood, what had happened between us, affected every aspect of our lives.

Even our friends.

Because, right now, Noah and Quinn, were most likely experiencing a mad case of secondhand embarrassment, or they just didn't know how to handle the situation.

Maybe they felt bad for me, or they felt awkward on behalf of Sam. They were probably waiting to see how I'd react...if I'd get mad or jealous, or run off in tears.

But even if Sam and I got passed this and moved on as friends...because, he probably wanted to salvage our friendship. He was a good guy like that...our friends would always be uncomfortable.

The weight of that knowledge, settled on my shoulders and I slumped down, wanting nothing more than to go home and crawl into bed.

The truth, no matter what Quinn said or I wanted to believe, was that, Sam wasn't the kind of guy who was into commitments.

And if he wanted to be with me, he would've called or done something, after I'd left. Anything, other than drinking himself into a stupor.

Quinn smiled at me, she seemed to sense how far my mood had plummeted.

"You ready to get out of here?" she asked.

Ignoring Sam's sharp look, I nodded.

I don't think at that moment, there was anything I wanted more, than to get the hell out of there.

Stay safe!