Page 75 of Holiday Friend Zones
She nods once.“I did, thanks.The breaker was off.”Her voice is low, careful.“I’m just here to get my things.”
“Anytime,” I murmur, wishing I had the guts to tell her that I’d move mountains for her.
For a heartbeat we just stand here in the thin strip of space that has raised us, challenged us, stranded us together this week.Her mouth opens like she might say something real, then it closes again, and she steps forward, walking past me towards my door.
“It’ll just take a minute,” she says, almost an apology.“See you at the Holiday Dance?”
“Yeah.”I tip my chin.“I’ll be there.”
She disappears down the hall to my bedroom as I stare into space until the sting in my chest settles into something steadier.
I’ve spent years making sure I never pushed, never said the thing that would ruin us.Last night proved silence doesn’t keep you safe; it just keeps you lonely.So that’s it.No more half-measures.When she’s ready to hear me, I’m going to tell her the truth plain: it isn’t the contest, and it isn’t the season.It’s her.It’s always been her.
Then I’ll kiss her like I mean it.
ChapterEleven
AVA
Isit curled in the armchair by the fire, phone pressed to my ear, watching the snow blur past the window.The cabin’s warmer now—thanks to Liam, of course.He snuck in while I wasn’t looking, fixed the breaker, even left a space heater to move things along faster.Then he texted…anytime.Like it’s just that simple.
I haven’t called my sister in days, but the second her voice comes through, the knot in my chest loosens.
“Finally,” Emma says.“I was starting to think you got buried in a snowdrift.”
“Not yet,” I murmur, tracing the rim of my coffee mug.
“You sound…weird.What’s going on?”
I laugh, sharp and humorless.“That obvious?”
“Spill, Ava.You don’t call me in the middle of the afternoon unless you’re spiraling.”
I close my eyes, lean my head against the cushion.“It’s Liam.”
There’s a beat of silence.Then, smugly, “Ah… childhood best friend Liam.Photogenic jawline Liam.The one you’ve been pretending you don’t have feelings for since middle school.”
I groan.“Don’t start.”
“I’m not starting.I’m continuing.You’ve been in denial for decades.”
My throat tightens.“Em, it’s…different this time.We’re spending all this time together, and I can’t stop—God, I can’t stop feeling things.The spark, it’s…it’s always been there, hasn’t it?I just didn’t want to admit it.”
Her voice softens.“So, admit it now.”
“It’s not that easy.”My eyes sting, though I blink hard against it.“He kissed me.Under the mistletoe.And it wasn’t…it wasn’t fake.Not to me.But I panicked, told him it was just for the contest, and now I’m not so sure, and I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Emma doesn’t even flinch at the don’t-know-what-I’m-doing part.“You’re doing what you always do.Playing it safe.”
“That’s not fair.”
“It’s true,” she says gently.“You think Liam is dangerous because he matters too much.Because if you lose him, you lose more than a boyfriend.You lose your longest friend, your history, your home.”
I press my palm over my eyes, exhaling a breath.She’s not wrong.
“Listen to me, Ava.”Emma’s voice steadies, the way it always does when she’s about to drop the truth I don’t want to hear.“Love isn’t supposed to feel safe.It’s supposed to feel like what you’ve been feeling—like your whole body is buzzing, like you can’t shake it no matter how hard you try.That spark you keep talking about?That’s not an accident.That’s him.That’s you and him.”
I sit here, the words wrapping tight around my chest.I picture Liam crouched by the fire, handing me cocoa with marshmallows.Laughing when we baked cookies, flour dusting his hair.His hand covering mine in the square, steady as the tree lit up around us.
