Silver Heart by Victoria Green

them.
    Citing an excuse of having to meet a friend—I wasn’t yet sure how I was going to introduce my unorthodox situation to Sawyer—I asked him to drop me off in the bustling Whistler Village. Thankfully, he had plans for a night run and declined my invitation to join us.
    I needed time to think of a proper introduction between my fake boyfriend and the guy who had always had my heart, and was now also capturing my body and mind.
    Though it had been almost five months since I’d last seen Preston, I spotted him the moment I stepped foot into the bar. His light brown hair was cropped in his usual short cut, bringing attention to his hazel eyes. The navy dress shirt and khaki dress pants stuck out amidst the sea of ski and snowboard apparel.
    “Hi, Dylan,” he said when I approached the table.
    He stood and greeted me with a quick half-hug, awkwardly patting my shoulder. From the corner of my eye, I saw Maddie’s eyebrows soar so high up they nearly connected with her hairline.
    “Hello, Preston,” I replied, sliding into a seat beside him. “How are you?”
    He smiled politely. “Busy as always. You?”
    “An official Stanford graduate,” I said, returning his smile.
    “Congratulations are in order.” Apparently, so was another awkward pat. “I’m very happy that your dreams are coming true.”
    “Thank you.”
    There . We’d already exhausted a big portion of our conversation quota. Next, we would talk about the weather, then school and work respectively, finally ending on some piece of trivial political gossip.
    A girl I recognized as one of Mia’s friends passed by our table. Her gaze immediately shifted to Preston, drifting over his face and chiseled jaw, then down his chest and arms. Once again, I was reminded of the fact that Preston was a good-looking guy. Hell, with his broad shoulders, wide jaw, and All-American looks he could even be considered “a dream man.”
    Someone else’s dream man, that is.
    I had to keep telling myself that, just like with the rest of my life, there was nothing inherently wrong with Preston. We didn’t have much in common in the conversation department, and I definitely didn’t feel any kind of sexual pull toward him, but it wasn’t like he was an asshole. In fact, his behaviour couldn’t be further away from resembling a typical jerk. He was a genuinely nice guy. And there was nothing wrong with a nice guy. Sawyer was nice.
    But Sawyer was also so much more than just nice …
    “How about we do some shots?” Maddie clapped her hands, catching on to the beginning of what threatened to be a long and uncomfortable silence.
    “Yes!” I shot up from my seat. “Shots! I’m buying!”
    Adam and Preston agreed, albeit more reluctantly.
    I made my way through the semi-crowded room and found an empty space on the bar to rest my elbows while I waited to be noticed. Despite the fact that I was vastly overdressed—even in mid-January all of the other girls vying for the bartenders’ attention were sporting tight tube tops and tiny tanks—it didn’t take long for one of the guys behind the bar to serve me four shots of tequila. I grabbed two glasses in each hand and loaded up on some lime wedges. Turning around, I smacked into Preston, spilling some of the tequila to the floor.
    “Let’s get engaged!” he called over the music.
    My heart plummeted to the floor, nearly taking the tiny glasses in my hand along with it.
    “ Huh?! ” It may not have been the most eloquent response, but Preston’s words had left me utterly speechless.
    “We should get engaged!” he repeated, yelling louder this time.
    As if my startled reaction had been caused by lack of hearing.
    Two giggling girls pushed past me, one of them accidentally elbowing me in the ribs. Alcohol sloshed onto my hands, so I thrust three glasses toward Preston. He obediently took them, watching me intently as I downed the forth shot. The bitter taste caused me to grimace and cough.
    “Engaged?” I asked