The day before Christmas Eve.

"One shot wouldn't hurt, would it?"

I stared at the bottle of tequila sitting next to my bag on the kitchen island and contemplated the consequences of being pulled over with alcohol in my system.

On the plus side, I wouldn't be able to drive the rest of the trip to mom and dads for Christmas. On the down side, I wouldn't cut it in a jail cell and I'm brave enough to admit that.

Snatching the temptation by the neck, I shoved the bottle into my bag, leaving it accessible enough that I could swig a few mouthfuls the second I arrived in Whistler.

My eyes fluttered shut just thinking about the next week. Christmas and New Year's with the Mitchell's. Mom, dad, Ivan. We'd had Christmas there every year for as long as I could remember. Mom and dad had an apartment in the resort village but it'd been two years since I'd seen them.

Though I wasn't dreading seeing my brother, I preferred to spend time with him when he wasn't under the influence of parental validation.

He had a habit of agreeing with them a little too hard when it came to frowning upon my chosen lifestyle. One that I happened to thrive in.

Two years ago, just after I'd graduated from college, I'd turned down a proposal from my high school sweetheart. Mom had been preparing me for the life of a high society wife from the moment I could walk and to say I shattered her dreams when I said no to Howie Donald, one of the top real estate agents in British Colombia, would be an understatement.

It wasn't love. He was a friend, someone I felt obligated to be with for the sake of appearances. A mindset my mother made me feel like I had to maintain. Being free of that was a relief.

Giving my outfit a once over in the bathroom mirror, I shrugged, satisfied that it was cute enough to show up in. Sweat pants, a fitted turtle neck and an oversized hoodie with the zip open. Okay, so by mom's standards it was basically the attire of an inmate, but I couldn't be bothered driving ten hours in a dress or pant suit.

I slipped a toque onto my long waves, draped a jacket over my arm and wandered over to the door of my studio. I checked I had everything, switched the lights off, swung the door open and jolted with fright at the familiar man on the other side.

Jaden Daniel's, my brother's childhood best friend. His waves of golden brown, short curls sat under a toque, one strand twisting out and onto his forehead. His soft green, sensually shaped eyes were upturned and his jaw was now coated in short stubble. I swear he'd grown since I last saw him at Thanksgiving when Ivan came to Calgary to make sure I didn't spend it alone. Jaden lived here too, which meant when my brother was around, so was his bestie.

"Jaden," I deadpanned. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Jade, as he preferred to be called, stepped up and pushed himself into me, barging in through the door so I had no choice but to step back. He quickly eyed my Christmas village set up on the hall table. The tinsel around my mirror and the wreath on my door.

"Hello to you too, Dahlia," he drawled, reaching out and twisting a strand of my long hair around his finger. "Auburn now? Looks good."

I glared and he held that glare as he reached for my bag, slipped his hand inside and found the tequila.

"Knew it," he grinned. "You're such a piss head."

"Oh you spend one month in New Zealand and come back acting like you're the king of foreign lingo," I snatched the bottle back and slid it into the bag.

Jade leaned in nice and close, staring down at me with a lazy smile. "tu deviens plus sexy à chaque fois que je te vois." (You get sexier every time I see you.)

I narrowed my stare. "Is that supposed to impress me? Your parents spent how many thousands on private tutors? If anything, your pronunciation could use a little work," I pushed him back out of the door way. "Tu es un cochon, sors." (You're a pig, get out.)

He sucked in a breath, grinning. "Okay mami."

"Ugh," I stepped outside, dragging my bag behind me and pulled the door shut. "Seriously, I have somewhere to be. You have to go."

"I know," he followed me and almost slammed into my back when I suddenly stopped at the sight of two bags next to the trunk of my old jeep. "I'm coming with you, doll."

Spinning to face him, I found an infuriating half lift of his stupid mouth.

"No chance and don't call me doll." That stupid nickname had been following me since we first met and he compared me to a porcelain doll, fit to look untouchable and proper just as my parents required.

"Ivan didn't mention I'd be tagging along?"

"No."

He clacked his tongue and slipped around me, his chest brushing my shoulder. "I'm not thrilled about it either, I honestly can't stand the thought of putting my life in your hands considering there's a good chance you're drunk right now, but I need a ride and you've got the wheels. So here we are."

"I am not drunk you mother fu—"

"Pop the trunk, doll," he tapped the back window with his knuckles as I stormed toward him, ready to swing my tequila bottle over his head.

"You're not coming."

He stared at me with amusement. "Well I haven't today, but there's still time."

I ground my teeth and sucked in a long deep breath. "Please leave."

"I'm ready when you are, doll."

I snapped, a strangled scream bursting out. "Jade!"

He laughed and tried the trunk, discovering the jeep unlocked. As the trunk swung open, he winked at me. "That's not usually how girls sound when they scream my name. But I'll take it."

"I hate you so much."

"The feeling is mutual, I'm just a lot nicer about it."

"Well don't be," I challenged, heading over to where he picked up his second bag and swung it into the trunk with ease.

Before I could lift my own bag, he took the handle and put it in beside his luggage. I shot him a glare.

"See, I'm a gentleman."

The man pissed me off, but I refused to withhold manners. "Thank you."

"You want me to drive?" He offered, lifting his arm and resting a hand on the roof of the jeep. Staring down, he raised a brow.

"No."

"You sure? I figured you'd want to down your tequila to drown me out."

"Tempting but I don't trust your driving."

He reared back, closing the trunk. "How come?"

"You drove a golf cart into my doll house."

He laughed. "What, when we were ten?"

"Still a sign of your obvious incompetence."

"Not quite considering I did that on purpose. Perfect control I'd think."

I shoved past him, heading for the drivers seat. I was sure I'd want to swap at some point but for now, I refused to let him have an ounce more control of this situation.

Once we were on the road, the heater warding off the chill, Jade shimmied down in the passenger seat, tipped his head back and spread his solid thighs, looking relaxed as ever.

"You know, that dollhouse shouldn't have been outside," he rolled his head to look over at me. "Who brings a dollhouse of that size into the back garden?"

"Who steals a golf cart and then drives the evidence home?"

He sighed and slipped his toque off, pushing his mess of waves back. "Your house backed onto the course, doll. Don't act like I went off roading."

"You're still an asshole for that. I've never let it go."

"Shit, couldn't tell."

I gripped the steering wheel harder, recalling the moment Jade became the one person on earth that I couldn't stand. I was a people person, I loved people. I loved meeting people, talking to people, social events, parties. If I met someone I didn't have a lot in common with, I listened intently to them talk about their interests and I never had major disputes with anyone who weren't mom and dad.

But Jade brought out a side of me that I knew was difficult to deal with and I couldn't find it in me to care. He was reckless, arrogant and had never cared about the consequences of his actions.

The fact that he could be in the NHL right now if it weren't for him beating the hell out of his coach two months before the draft. That was it, the chance at going pro, gone.

Who the hell throws a career like that down the drain? Ivan didn't know what his coach had done to cause such a reaction but that wasn't Jades first time flying off the handle at someone. He'd been on probation for suspicions of a fight off campus, but without anyone to confirm what happened, he was never kicked off the team until he put his coach in hospital.

Ivan once said his upbringing was quiet and isolated, which sure, that sucks but growing up in the kind of world we did, that was normal. You still had to learn how to get along with others.

Now that I had a degree in social work, I knew more and I wondered if there was a reason for his violence that perhaps was overlooked in the past. As far as I knew, he'd been on good behaviour ever since, hopefully courtesy of the therapist I'd recommended him when I found out he'd also moved to Calgary just fourteen months after me.

Getting a minimum of ten hours from mom and dad was essential to my healing process and getting my degree in social work made the most sense when I thought about what kind of purpose helping others could give me.

My eyes were open to a world my family tried to pretend didn't exist. Witnessing the poverty and the impact it had on children made me resentful of families who had everything and refused to help those in need.

I exhaled a breath when I realized I was complaining about a dollhouse that likely cost more than some families make in a month. It mattered when I was ten. It didn't matter now. What mattered now was Jade and his uncaring attitude to the entire world around him.

"You never even apologized."

He tapped his phone screen. "You deserved it."

My head swung toward him, jaw dropped. "What?"

"Oh come on," he said, sitting up a little straighter. "Telling Jenna Wellesbourne that I wet the fucking bed just to embarrass me."

Smacking the off switch for the heat, which was becoming unbearable the angrier I got, I scoffed. "Mhmm, sure because I cared enough to embarrass you in front of your crush."

"Me and Jenna were on hand holding basis until you ruined it."

"I had nothing to do with that rumour."

Okay, I did. But I'd doubled down on the denial when mom and dad pressured me into admitting the truth. That was the first time I'd withstood their interrogation and it created a vault I could never open. That confession would die with me.

"Yeah, sure," Jade gave me a sarcastic smile, drumming his fingers on his thigh. "Fifteen years later and I still don't believe you, Dahlia."

This was going to be a long ten hours.

~

Merry Christmas ! I had so much fun writing this story. If you spy any errors, feel free to point them out ! Love you all