“When did you get this?” She points to her ring.
“Seven years ago. We were shopping one day, and I saw you admiring it in the jewelry store window. I went back that night and opened my first credit card and bought it.”
Her brows scrunch together. “But you broke up with me.”
“I got scared. I saw you working with one of your classmates in the library and you two had your heads together. It got the ball rolling in my mind and I couldn’t stop the ‘what if’ train.”
Her expression falls slightly. “So then where did this come from? I know you didn’t carry it around with you for six years.”
“My mom brought it up. Well, sort of. She met me at the donut shop with it. You should’ve seen how excited she was. All she wanted to do was come see you, but I convinced her that would be a big red flag considering we’d only reconnected the night before.”
Kara laughs, and I release a deep breath. “Are we really getting married?”
“The second you’re ready, just say the word. I know it’s bittersweet without your parents, but we could do it here.”
“Here?”
I pull her closer and kiss her head. “Maybe this summer down at the lake? Your parents’ bedroom has a killer view.”
She laces her fingers through mine, and I run my finger across her engagement ring.
“I’d love that, Ben. Almost as much as I love you.”
“Merry Christmas, Kare bear.”
“Merry Christmas, Ben.”
About the Author
D. Kelly, author of The Acceptance Series, The Illusion Series, and standalone companion novels Chasing Cassidy and Sharing Rylee, was born and raised in Southern California. She’s a wife, mom, dog lover, taxi, problem fixer, and extreme multi-tasker. She married her high school sweetheart and is her kids’ biggest fan.
Kelly has been writing since she was young and took joy in spinning stories to her childhood friends. Margaritas and sarcasm make her smile, she loves the beach but hates the sand, and she believes Starbucks makes any day better.
A contemporary romance writer, D. Kelly’s stories revolve around friendship and the bond it creates, strengthening the love of the people who share it.
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Description
One second, my sister is announcing her engagement—to my ex. And the next, my best friend's telling everyone we're dating.
We're not. We've never been anything more than friends.
But when Justin kisses me, it doesn’t feel like pretend. And when he touches me, it's like he owns me, and perhaps he knows he already does. Always has.
And I'm not sure how our friendship—or my heart—are going to survive the holidays.
Chapter One
BRIE
Christmas music played through the speaker of my phone as I danced around my room. Justin watched me from my bed, rolling his eyes as the corner of his lips tipped up in a smile. I bounced on the mattress on my knees, jumping a few times as his mouth spread into a grin.
“You’re ridiculous,” he said as my duffel bag bobbed next to him.
“And you love it.” I bopped him on the nose before I climbed off the bed, straightening my robe.
Justin was my best friend and had been since middle school when my family had moved to California from Washington. I’d been the awkward new girl, and he’d never made me feel anything but cool, accepted, seen.
“You’re the one wearing a sweater that says—” I pointed my finger at his chest, unable to repeat it without laughing. “Well, that.”
He frowned down at said sweater, a green knit number that read “When I think about you, I touch my elf.” And had an actual stuffed elf strategically placed at his waist. When I’d opened the door for him earlier, I’d burst out laughing.
“Aww. Don’t get all shy on me now,” he teased.
“I’m not!” I protested, placing my hands on my hips as I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why do you always act like I’m such a prude?”
“Because you never want to talk about sex.”
Maybe because I hadn’t had any in nearly six months. Not since my last breakup. But Justin didn’t need to know that. It was too embarrassing to admit, even to my best friend.
I spun and headed for my closet to finish getting dressed. “It’s just weird. Okay? Talking about sex with you.”
“Why?” he asked. “We talk about everything else.”
He was right. Justin knew everything about me—more than anyone else in my life. Yet, I couldn’t talk to him about sex. It just felt…wrong somehow. And I refused to hear about his sex life. Probably because mine was so nonexistent.
“Is Violet’s mystery man coming?” he asked, referring to my older sister. I was grateful for the change of subject.
“She said he was, but we’ll see. I mean, they’ve been dating for months now, and no one’s met him.”
“Maybe he’s married,” Justin said, his baritone voice wafting into the closet and vibrating straight into my heart.
I dropped my robe to the floor and pulled on a pair of leggings before grabbing my sweater from the rack. Every year, my family tried to outdo one another with the most outrageous Christmas sweater. The winner got a nice bottle of liquor, and Justin was almost always the victor—at least, since we’d turned twenty-one a handful of years ago. I half wondered if it was because my mom loved him. She’d never treated any of the guys I’d dated half as well as she did Justin. And though I knew she thought of him as a son, we’d never been anything more than friends.
“I don’t know.” I tugged the sweater over my head. “Apparently, she told my mom she has an announcement.”
“Oh shit. Do you think Violet’s pregnant?”
I laughed, though the thought had crossed my mind. Violet was hiding something, that much I knew. She’d been pulling away the past few months, and though I tried to pretend nothing had changed, it stung.
“I don’t think that’s it.”
“What’s Kate doing for the holidays? Are her parents still not talking to her?” he asked.
I shook my head, thinking of my other best friend and former roommate. She’d moved in with her boyfriend earlier in the semester, a hot professor at the art school we attended, though I’d just graduated. Their relationship had raised a few eyebrows but hadn’t technically broken any rules. So, it was all good. Well, except with her family.
“Thanksgiving went relatively well, but they’re spending Christmas with his mom and brother.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah. She seems really happy, and I’m happy for her.” I adjusted the neckline of my sweater so the red lace of my bralette peeked out from the loose, low V neck and then messed with my curls.