Page 129 of Holiday Friend Zones
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
In the time it takes me to unravel a quarter of my strand, his is already done.Show-off.He stands, straightens the ladder, and then climbs it like he’s a fireman.
“You know what I hate most?”he calls down, hooking the strand along the roofline.
“I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”
“Tyler stole you.”
I lean against the railing, watching him work.The sight is too familiar and a flash of memory stings.The first Christmas after Dad died when Luke started stringing the lights without me even asking.
“You’re not making sense.I’m right here.”
He climbs down, shifts the ladder to the side, and grabs the dangling strand.“You’re not the Saylor I remember.He stole you fromyourself.”
I roll my eyes, but my chest pinches.Six months ago, I returned to town coated in shame because Tyler—Luke’s best friend—decided I was too small-town for his big-city life.
“I’m the same person.Just… a little more jaded.That happens when you think you’re someone’s forever and they decide you’re no longer shiny enough to attract their attention.Too plain Jane for their new crowd.”
Luke glances over his shoulder with a smirk and makes his way down the ladder.It’s the same smirk he used to bait me into spilling my guts at fourteen years old, after I swore I was fine without my dad.The same smirk that was still on his lips when he let me cry in the treehouse until I fell asleep on his shoulder.
“He’s an asshole.Always was.”He climbs back up the ladder.
My forehead wrinkles.“He’s your best friend.”
“Nah.Hasn’t been for a long time now.”His tone hardens.“After you left with him, he barely reached out.Hell, sometimes I think he used me to get to you.”Something flickers in his face before he looks away, and I know he’s not telling me the whole story.
We work in silence.Him on the roofline, and me making little progress on the knots.
When he’s done with the strand, he climbs down and stands in front of me.“You’re shutting me out.I don’t like it.”
Luke’s always been blunt, while I’m always trying to keep everything locked inside.
“Saylor.”He stands in front of me, eyes steady.
“It’s… embarrassing.”My gaze stays fixed on the twisted cords in my lap.
“It’s me.”His voice softens, using the same tone he used at Dad’s funeral, in the treehouse, when Tyler convinced me to leave town, and that night six months ago when I stumbled back to Willowbrook with a shattered heart.
Tears prick my eyes, but I blink hard.
“Please,” he says.
I hate how easy it is to give in to him.
I keep my head down, not wanting to look him in the eye.“I can only imagine what you must think of me.Returning home heartbroken, falling asleep on your shoulder, and then kissing you.Seriously.”I drop the lights on the porch and stand, making him step back.“Maybe we should do the trees this year.Or get one of those giant inflatables.They’re cheery.”
I make it two steps before his boots thud on the porch behind me, his warmth at my back.
“I don’t think anything of you,” he says, voice low.“I think you were finding comfort in your friend.It was late.You got confused.”
My stomach twists because that’s exactly what I told myself the next morning.But six months later, I can still feel the way his fingers slid into my hair, how his lips coaxed mine apart, how butterflies filled my stomach when his tongue brushed mine.
I shove the thought away.“So… you up for stringing the tree?”
Again, he doesn’t say anything for a moment.
“You’re the only one I’d risk frostbite for.”He goes back up onto the porch, returning with the ladder and lights.
