Page 95 of Holiday Friend Zones
I try again a few hours later, this time more ...poetic.
“I love how unapologetically you move through life,” I blurt while he’s bent over the bottom shelf of the romance section.“It’s really inspiring.”
He freezes mid-reach, fingers brushing a spine.Doesn’t say anything for a moment.My chest thrums, waiting.Then he glances over his shoulder, brows raised.
“Are you calling me brave for acting like an asshole all the time?”
“No.”My protest is too loud, desperate.“Of course not.I just mean—your general demeanor?—”
“Of being a gigantic dick.”
“Of being authentically yourself,” I correct, flailing.“I just ...wish I had that kind of confidence.That kind of zest for life.”
Roman straightens, books forgotten, and his eyes lock on mine.There’s something unreadable in them, something that makes my stomach dip.Then he smirks, ruining me in one swoop.
“Maybe you should lay off the Lemon Drops if you’re thirsting after my zest.”
I groan into my hands because, of course, the man who once turned Winnie the Pooh into a sex joke in the middle of sophomore English cannot handle sincerity without twisting it sideways.
The next day, I (over)correct.Go for specific.Tangible.Something he can’t joke his way out of.
“I really appreciate how you always refill the sugar cubes even though you hate sugar in your coffee and think it’s an affront to nature,” I blurt.“And I’m really proud of the person you’ve grown into.”
It all comes out in one breath, consonants tumbling into each other, less a compliment and more a verbal car crash.I don’t even wait to see his reaction—I just pivot and bolt toward the storeroom.
Behind me, his voice follows, half amused, half confused: “You’re ...welcome?I think?”
I duck behind the Christmas shipment of classics, heart hammering like I’ve just sprinted a mile.
Maybe I’ll just hide here until the New Year.Or until I learn how to compliment Roman without sounding like a lunatic in love.
ChapterTen
WILLOW
Tip 3: Be confident.
Right.Sure.Easy.
So basically—the total opposite of me.
Confidence is walking into a room without scanning for exits.Confidence is not replaying every conversation in your head at three a.m., dissecting each syllable until you convince yourself you sounded like a complete idiot.Confidence is Roman, leaning against the counter like the world exists just to entertain him.Confidence is not me—rambling, tripping over my tongue, clutching advice columns like they’re gospel.
So yeah.Tip 3 can go straight to hell.
Next.
ChapterEleven
WILLOW
Tip 4: When in doubt, tease.
The next morning, I gather every scrap of courage I own and lean against the counter, casual—at least in theory.
“How’s the most gorgeous person on earth doing today?”I ask, flashing what I pray passes for a teasing smile.
Roman doesn’t even blink.Doesn’t look up from the newspaper he’s pretending to read like it’s 1957.“I don’t know,” he says calmly, turning a page.“How are you today?”
