Page 71 of Holiday Friend Zones
I’m knocked out of the memory when the mayor makes a little speech that no one listens to, then the countdown begins.“Ten, nine, eight—” The crowd joins in, voices lifting with the falling snow.On “one,” the lights blaze to life.The spruce bursts into color, strung with popcorn garlands, cranberries, and silver ornaments that catch the glow like fire.
A cheer goes up.Ava exhales, soft and awed, and without thinking, I slide my hand over hers where it’s buried in her pocket.She doesn’t pull away.
For one long, suspended second, the world shrinks to this: her hand under mine, warm and small, her shoulder brushing mine, the tree blazing above us.
Then a voice cuts through.“Under the mistletoe!”
We look up.Sure enough, someone strung a sprig right over the gazebo steps, and half the town has already noticed we’re standing beneath it.
“Kiss!Kiss!Kiss!”The chant ripples through the crowd, laughter bubbling around us.
Ava’s eyes go wide.“Absolutely not,” she whispers so only I can hear her.“You know I hate attention.”
I grin, leaning close enough that my breath brushes her ear.“Relax.I’ll behave.”
Before she can argue, I press a quick kiss to her cheek only millimetres from her mouth.The crowd erupts anyway, whistling and clapping like we just sealed an engagement.
Her skin is warm under my lips.When I pull back, her face is pink—whether from the cold or me, I can’t tell.
“Happy now?”she mutters.
“Ecstatic,” I say, and it’s the truth.
As the crowd disperses, I catch sight of a figure near the edge of the square.Tall, familiar, eyes fixed on Ava.
Derek.
He doesn’t approach, but the look is enough to twist something sharp in my chest.
I shove the feeling down and turn back to her, forcing a smile.“Come on.Let’s grab cider before the line disappears.”
She nods, but there’s a crease between her brows, like she saw him there too.
ChapterSeven
AVA
Ikeep replaying the cheek kiss.The crowd chanting, Liam leaning in, warm lips brushing my skin.It shouldn’t mean anything, but the heat hasn’t left my face, and every time I blink, I feel it again.
We’re walking the square after Liam bought us both ciders, looking for the scavenger hunt portion of the Mistletoe Match— the final challenge before the winners are announced.The lights still glow, kids shriek and chase each other with paper lanterns, and the gazebo gleams like something out of a snow globe.
And of course because this town can’t help itself, there’s more mistletoe.Hung in every doorway, strung above shop signs, dangling at the finish line like some cosmic joke.
“Ready to win?”Liam asks, flashing me that grin, the one that could power the entire tree if the lights went out.In his hands is the list of holiday scavenger hunt items pressed to his chest like a shield.
We spend an hour racing through the town square, collecting candy canes, a sprig of holly, even convincing a caroller to sing off-key for extra points.And it’s fun.Too fun.I catch myself laughing until my cheeks ache, bumping shoulders with Liam as we dash through the snow, and for a dangerous moment it feels like I belong here.Like I belong with him.
By the time we stumble across the finish line, breathless and victorious, Mrs.McAllister is waiting with her clipboard and her eagle eyes to crown the winners.“Excellent teamwork!Congratulations you two!You’re the official winners of this year’s Mistletoe Match.Now,” she says, waving her hand toward the sprig dangling above us, “seal it with tradition!”
My stomach plummets.
The crowd gathers fast, expectant, with their eyes on us.
I glance at Liam.His dark eyes watching me, not the mistletoe, not the crowd—just me.And there’s no grin this time, no teasing smirk.Just something steady, something that makes my knees go a little weak.
“They want us to kiss,” he murmurs, low enough so only I can hear.
My breath hitches, the world tilts, and I step closer anyway.
