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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.”
Every fucking time I was around Carter, I saw the red flags. I just didn’t care…or at least that was what I told myself.
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?”
I smiled, thinking how Carter was just a big softy deep down. Really deep down, below the bad temper, control issues, and arrogant entitled bullshit.
“Why are we slapping Nate?” he asked, looking to Carter for answers. Carter just shrugged. “Why not?”
“Don’t wanna be called a douchewad, don’t act like a douchewad, Douchewad.
“You thought Carter was in mortal peril so you decided the best course of action was to come bursting in here armed with your sharp wit and cutting sarcasm? Well-thought-out plan, Layne. That wasn’t stupid at all.”
“That’s it?” Nate asked, frowning at me with an intensity that made me uneasy. “Wow? That’s your whole reaction to this?” He waved a hand at the dead body—rapidly cooling, I’d bet—and shook his head with disbelief. “Just…wow?” I handed his phone back and shrugged. “What do you want from me? Hysterics? I don’t know if my acting skills are totally up to the task, but I can give it a go once we get this sorted out, if you’d like?”
“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.
Royce wasn’t some hot-guy hookup. He wasn’t a stranger. He was…Royce, and I was just as attracted to his personality as I was his body, which added so many extra layers to the sizzling chemistry between us.
“God damn it,” he cursed, punching Heath in the shoulder. “We had an agreement.” “Ow, dickhead,” Heath protested, punching him back. “Don’t get mad at me!” Carter gasped, and I glanced over my shoulder to see him staring at Royce in shock. “No! You?” Royce just grinned like a fucking Cheshire cat, not even the slightest bit guilty. “Me, motherfucker. You snooze, you lose.”
