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“I do. Don’t ask me why, I find you utterly infuriating and a stone-cold bitch for playing with my friends’ feelings, but for some cursed reason, I actually do care if something happens to you, Ashley.”
“So…” Nate broke the silence, seemingly totally comfortable despite the rips in his shirt literally exposing his skin to the frigid air. “Do you wanna build a snowman?”
“You’re wrong,” Nate said quietly as I stalked back across the frozen ground toward the house. “Carly isn’t your only friend.” He gave me a long look as I glanced over my shoulder, then shifted his gaze away. “Royce is still your friend… He’s just scared shitless of hurting you.”
“Merry Christmas, Ash.” Those three words, that voice I’d thought I might never hear again—it damn near killed me. A sob ripped from my chest, and I threw myself forward, no longer in control of my own actions. Thankfully, he caught me, his strong arms wrapping around me like he was made to hold me. I sobbed into his chest, now utterly sure I was hallucinating, and he just stroked my hair as he chuckled with a sound so warm, rich, and real. So…Heath.
“If they don’t all get the matching pajamas,” Nate muttered quietly as he appeared beside me with a fresh coffee in hand, “I’ll start a riot.”
“Come on, Spark baby, one more song,” he murmured in my ear, that sexy accent rolling over me like a caress, “and then we can dip out and I’ll eat your pussy in the back of my car to start the New Year right.” Well, shit. With an offer like that, how was a girl to refuse?
Carly shrugged. “With Royce, obviously. Or me! I’ve never eaten pussy before but I reckon I’d be excellent at it.” I snort-laughed and threw a pair of rolled-up socks her way. “What tempting options. In case you forgot, friend, you’re straight.” She rolled her eyes. “What’s the saying? So’s spaghetti until it gets wet?”
“Here, I’ll put it in writing so there’s no miscommunication.” Squinting, I looked down at the note. I like you. I think about you naked all the time. I wanna be more than friends. I might already love you.
“What if I told you I was the one destroying the pillow wall every night?” He dipped his head but glanced at me through his long lashes. “Because every time I did, you would snuggle into me almost immediately, and I liked to pretend for a couple of hours that you were mine.”
“I’m scared,” he confessed in a whisper, “that I won’t be able to go back to being friends after I kiss you.” “Good,” I replied, bringing my hands up to cup his face. “I don’t wanna be your friend anymore, either.” Then I closed the gap between us, our lips brushing in the softest caress imaginable.
