“I sense a ‘but’ coming.”
I laughed. Justin knew me too well. “I just worry about her. She hasn’t known him that long and already moved in with him.”
“Can’t see yourself doing that?”
I shook my head before remembering he couldn’t see me. “I feel like I’d want to date someone at least a year before even considering moving in with them. But Xander clearly adores her, and she’s happy.”
“Then what are you so concerned about?”
I frowned at my reflection, trying to formulate a good response. “I’m not.”
“But something’s bothering you.”
Maybe it was the fact that everyone seemed to be moving on but me. My sister had this new boyfriend, and it sounded serious. Kate had Xander, and they’d moved in together. Even Justin was moving on—literally. He’d accepted a new job in Colorado. My eyes stung with unshed tears, and I forced them away. I’d miss him, but we’d keep in touch. We had to.
I tugged on my heeled booties and threw a leather jacket over my shoulder, knowing it might be cool out. Well, cool for LA. Los Angeles didn’t have a winter per se. There would be no white Christmas. But the holiday spirit was certainly in the air. It was evident in everything from the decorated shop windows to the music playing over the stereo to the tree in my living room.
I leaned against the doorframe, waiting for Justin to glance up. His auburn hair was loosely styled as if he’d spent a day on the beach. His jaw was set in a line, his attention focused on something on his phone. He looked entirely too serious for my liking.
I cleared my throat, enjoying the way his eyes raked up my body. I told myself I was imagining his reaction, wanting to read something into it that wasn’t there, but I couldn’t help myself. I’d always had a bit of a crush on him. How could I not? He was handsome in a rakish sort of way. Charming. And kind. But above all—he got me. He knew how to make me laugh. He knew what to say when I was upset. And he’d been there—by my side—for some of the biggest moments in my life.
Okay, maybe saying I had a crush was an understatement. But I’d never pursued it. He was my friend, my best friend. And even though everyone always said we’d make the perfect couple, I honestly couldn’t envision it. Despite a drunken kiss one New Year’s Eve, he’d never hinted at wanting anything more. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to screw up a decade-long friendship. Even if I did compare every other guy to him.
I bit back a smile as I watched his expression morph from one of appreciation to disgust as he actually took in the awesomeness that was my sweater. I was in it to win it this year.
“Wow.” He swallowed. “That’s disturbing.”
I laughed, plucking the fabric away from my chest to admire the image. The words “Jingle Balls” were printed on the sweater, and two huge, hairy balls were front and center on my breasts.
I dropped the fabric, the material draping over my skin. I adjusted the neckline so it laid just right again. “See. I’m not a prude.”
“I never said you were.” He swung his legs over the side of my bed and stood.
I grabbed my earrings from the dresser, a pair of snowflakes I wore every year. Justin had given them to me our first year of college, and they were one of my most prized possessions. Not a Christmas went by that I wasn’t wearing them. And in all the years we’d been friends, we’d rarely spent the holidays apart. Despite distance, despite time, despite dating other people, we’d never let anything get in the way of our friendship.
Justin came to stand beside me, draping his arm over my shoulder. He smiled at me in the mirror, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “You ready?”
“To dominate?” I teased, giving his waist a squeeze.
Even in my heeled boots he towered over me. He could easily rest his chin on my head, and he often did. I loved how we fit together, and looking at our reflection, I envied the handsome couple in the mirror. They were everything I wanted and nothing I’d ever have.
“Obviously.” He pressed his lips to my forehead, and I tore my eyes away from the mirror. “Come on, Pocket.” He removed his arm, and I immediately felt the loss of his touch. “Let’s go.”
I remained there a moment, telling myself to get it together. That was it. No more Hallmark holiday specials. No more holiday-themed romance novels. Okay—that wasn’t happening, but whatever.
Justin paused when he realized I hadn’t moved. “Hey.” He crouched down to meet my eyes. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I flashed him a bright smile. “Of course. The question is,” I said, swaying my hips as I backed away, “are you going to be okay when I take home the title of best worst sweater and…the whiskey.”
He scoffed, tossing my duffel bag over his shoulder. “In your dreams.”
“Whatever. This sweater—” I pointed at my chest, gratified when his attention lingered on my breasts “—is a winner.”
He chuckled as I locked the door behind us. “Even if you do somehow miraculously manage to win, you know the deal.”
“We share the goods.” I held out my pinkie for a pinkie promise. He linked his with mine, his blue eyes smiling at me the way they always had—as my friend. Nothing more.
We hopped in Justin’s truck, and I immediately turned on the Christmas station. As we made the three-hour drive to my parents’ house, I marveled at the decorations along the way. All the while, he asked me questions about my latest clients, excited that my graphic design business was going so well. I worked on everything from branding for realtors to covers for romance novels—those were my favorite. And I’d been taking on more of them lately. Justin had always been supportive of my work, always encouraged me to charge more than I planned because he believed in me.
“So, how’s the house hunt going?” I asked, dreading the answer. In a few weeks, he’d be moving to Colorado, and I didn’t know what I was going to do without him.
“Pretty well. I think I found one I like. You’d love it. It overlooks the mountains, and it’s got this huge outdoor deck.”
“Sounds nice but too cold for me.” I shuddered dramatically as if to emphasize my point.
He laughed. “In the winter, maybe. But I’ll get a patio heater for the rest of the year. You should come with me.”
I nodded, not sure what else to say. He’d joked about me moving with him, but I knew that was all it was—a joke. Meanwhile, I was still in denial about the whole thing. Imagining him in a new house, a new city—far away from here—made my stomach clench.
“Of course I’ll visit,” I said, surprised when his face fell.
He dropped the subject, and we drove in silence for a while, listening to the road noise, the songs on the radio. It was nice, peaceful. Whenever I was with Justin, I felt content, relaxed.
When we arrived at my parents’ house, the sun was setting, the outdoor lights already on. The house was decked out for the holidays, lights and music and blow-up figures covering the yard. Justin carried our bags up the steps to the front door as I catalogued the new additions. The door swung open before we could even knock, and my mom greeted us at the threshold, our dog, Muffie, under her arm.